After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 57: The Smell of Victory (and Strawberries)

The "shower" wasn’t just a bucket with holes in it. Because Damien Sinclair didn’t do half-measures, it was a portable, solar-powered eco-pod with privacy screens, heated water, and fluffy white towels that somehow stayed dry in 90% humidity.

Aria stepped inside, peeling off her wet, clinging tactical gear. The water hit her skin—hot, clean, and pressurized—and she let out a groan that was pure, unadulterated bliss. She washed the salt of the Cenote and the mud of the jungle from her hair, lathering it with the strawberry shampoo Damien had specifically requested.

It smelled like home. It smelled like the mornings in the penthouse before the world went crazy.

"You spoil me," she had told him.

"I protect you," he had replied.

Aria leaned her forehead against the shower wall, letting the water run down her spine. She wasn’t just washing off dirt; she was washing off the "Black-Belly Queen" persona for five minutes. Under the armor, her muscles ached. Her hands, though healing, throbbed from the climb.

She wasn’t invincible. She was just angry enough to ignore the pain.

When she stepped out ten minutes later, wrapped in a robe that was softer than a cloud, she found a fresh set of dry clothes waiting in a waterproof bag. Not tactical gear this time—soft linen pants and a loose shirt. Practical, but comfortable.

She dressed quickly and emerged from the pod, towel-drying her hair.

The contrast with the rest of the group was jarring.

Bella was sitting on a rock, shivering in her wet clothes. Her hair was drying into a frizzy, tangled mess. She stared at Aria with eyes that were no longer just jealous—they were dead. Defeated.

Lucas was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. He had abandoned the sandbag at the bottom of the Cenote, and the silence from the "Game Master" since his disqualification announcement was driving him insane.

"You look... clean," Leo said, looking up from where he was trying to open a coconut with a rock. He looked like a wet puppy who had rolled in sand.

"It was magical, Leo," Aria said, sitting down on a dry log. "Next time, don’t cannonball. Form counts."

"Uncle!" Lucas suddenly shouted at the nearest camera drone. "I dropped the bag! I got the flag! What does ’disqualified’ mean? Am I off the show?"

The drone whirred, its red eye fixing on him.

The massive screen by the treeline flickered to life. Damien was back. He had changed into a navy polo shirt, looking relaxed and infuriatingly comfortable.

"Disqualified from the Reward," Damien clarified, his voice smooth. "Did you think I’d let you leave that easily, Nephew? The audience is just starting to have fun."

Lucas sagged with relief. "Oh. Okay. So I just... don’t get a shower?"

"You don’t get a shower," Damien agreed. "And because you abandoned your ’Burden’—the physical manifestation of your sins—you also forfeit your supplies."

Lucas froze. "My... what?"

"Your sleeping bag. Your tent. Your water rations," Damien listed. "A man who cannot carry his weight does not deserve comfort. You will sleep under the stars tonight, Lucas. Try not to let the mosquitoes carry you away."

"You can’t do that!" Lucas shrieked. "It’s going to rain again!"

"Then I suggest you start weaving palm fronds," Damien said. "Or beg Bella to share. Oh, wait... cohabitation rule. Tough luck."

The screen went black.

Lucas stood there, stripped of everything. He looked at his tent, which was currently being packed up by a silent production assistant who had emerged from the bushes.

"No!" Lucas grabbed the bag. "That’s mine!"

The PA, a large man who looked like he wrestled bears, simply pulled it out of Lucas’s grip and walked away.

Lucas turned to Bella. "Bella..."

"Don’t even ask," Bella snapped, turning her back on him. She was busy trying to wring water out of her dress. She had realized something important today: Lucas was an anchor. And if she stayed tied to him, she would drown.

She looked over at Leo.

"Leo," Bella said, her voice softening into a sickly-sweet coo. "You have a tent, right? And extra water?"

Leo looked up, blinking. "Uh, yeah. Sister Aria helped me set it up."

"I’m so cold," Bella whispered, hugging herself. "And thirsty. Could you... maybe share?"

Aria watched the pivot. Bella was switching targets. If she couldn’t rely on the Alpha (Lucas), she would manipulate the Beta (Leo).

"Leo," Aria said, not looking up from braiding her damp hair. "Remember what I told you about snakes?"

Leo looked at Bella, then at Aria. He remembered Bella laughing when he tripped yesterday. He remembered her stealing his water on Day One.

"Sorry, Miss Bella," Leo said, clutching his coconut. "My tent is... full. Of bugs. You wouldn’t like it."

Bella’s face twisted. Rejected by the idiot. It was a new low.

Night fell quickly over the Cenote.

Aria retreated to her tent, the scent of strawberries lingering in the small space. She felt cleaner, lighter.

She pulled out the secure phone.

[Aria: Strawberry was a nice touch. I feel human again.]

The response came instantly.

[The Wallet: You looked like a warrior on that cliff. Now you smell like my wife. I prefer the second one.]

Aria felt a blush heat her cheeks. The possessiveness in his text was palpable, even through a screen.

[Aria: How is the headache?]

[The Wallet: Non-existent. Watching Lucas try to build a shelter out of three sticks and a leaf is excellent therapy.]

Aria chuckled. She peeked out the mesh window. Lucas was indeed sitting miserably under a large fern, slapping at mosquitoes.

[Aria: We’re halfway to the extraction point. What’s the endgame for the show?]

[The Wallet: The final challenge is ’The Throne’. King of the Hill style. Winner takes the money. Loser takes the boat.]

[Aria: And the others?]

[The Wallet: They take the humiliation. Get some sleep, Mrs. Sinclair. Tomorrow, I release the jaguars. (Kidding. Maybe.)]

Aria turned off the phone, clutching it to her chest.

She closed her eyes, listening to the jungle. Somewhere out there, Lydia was plotting. Somewhere out there, a war older than herself was brewing.

But in here, she smelled like strawberries, and for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid of the dark.