After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 62: A Dress Made of Shrapnel

The living room of the Sinclair Penthouse had been commandeered.

Where there was once a minimalist open space, there were now five rolling racks of couture gowns, three tables covered in velvet jewelry trays, and a very stressed Coco running back and forth with a steamer.

"No, no, absolutely not!" Coco shrieked, snatching a pale pink chiffon dress from a terrified assistant’s hands. "She is the face of a luxury diamond house, not a debutante at a spring picnic! Pink says ’I’m sweet’. We need a dress that says ’I’m the most expensive thing in the room’."

Aria sat on the sofa, wrapped in a silk robe, sipping a green smoothie Ken had forced upon her. She watched the chaos with amusement.

"Coco," Aria said. "Relax. We have two hours before the press release photos."

"Two hours is nothing!" Coco argued, holding up a black velvet number. "Fashion takes time! And your husband..." He lowered his voice, glancing toward the office door where Damien was taking a call. "...your husband requested something ’breathtaking’. Do you know how much pressure that is?"

Zoe was sitting on the floor by the coffee table, typing furiously on her laptop. "Speaking of pressure, Bella is currently live-streaming a ’makeup tutorial’ where she looks like she’s been crying for three days. She’s hinting that Celestia breached her contract illegally. Her fans are trying to start a boycott hashtag, but it’s getting ratioed by the ’Auntie Aria’ memes."

"Let her stream," Aria said, standing up and walking over to the racks. "Desperation is bad for the complexion."

She ran her fingers over the fabrics. Silk, satin, tulle. They were all beautiful.

"I don’t want black," Aria decided. "Tonight is about radiance."

She stopped at a garment bag at the very end of the rack. The fabric peeking out shimmered like moonlight on water.

"What’s this?"

Coco hesitated. "That? That’s Versace. Custom. It’s... bold. It’s basically liquid silver."

"Show me."

Coco unzipped the bag.

The dress slid out like a waterfall. It was a floor-length gown made of liquid platinum silk that looked wet to the touch. It had a cowl neck that draped dangerously low in the front, held up by impossibly thin spaghetti straps, and a back that plunged all the way to her waist. A thigh-high slit promised to show a scandalous amount of leg with every step.

It was pure, unadulterated seduction.

"That one," Aria said instantly.

"It requires a lot of... confidence," Coco warned. "It clings to everything. If you breathe, the dress moves."

"I can handle it," Aria said, taking the hanger.

She went behind the privacy screen. The silk was cool against her warm skin as she slipped it on. It settled over her curves like a second skin, highlighting everything while hiding nothing.

She stepped out.

Coco gasped. "Okay. Yes. That works. You look like a statue come to life."

He rushed over to adjust the straps. As he moved her hair aside to check the neckline, he froze.

"Oh my god."

"What?" Aria asked.

Coco pointed a trembling finger at the sensitive cord of muscle connecting her neck to her shoulder.

There, blooming in a vivid shade of violet against her pale skin, was a bruise. A love bite. Fresh from the shower this morning.

"Aria!" Coco hissed. "We are shooting high-definition close-ups! You have a hickey! Who gave you a hickey?"

"I assume her husband did," a deep voice drawled from the doorway.

Damien walked in. He had finished his call and was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

Coco spun around. "Mr. Sinclair! This is a disaster!"

"I think it accessorizes the diamonds perfectly," Damien countered, walking over. He stopped behind Aria, his eyes meeting hers in the full-length mirror.

His gaze swept over the liquid silver dress. He didn’t speak for a moment. He just looked. The dress clung to her hips, her waist, her chest. She looked soft, glowing, and incredibly sexy.

"You look..." Damien started, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. "You look like trouble."

"You hate it?" Aria teased, seeing the conflict in his eyes.

"I love it," Damien admitted, his hands coming up to rest on her bare shoulders, his thumbs brushing the silk straps. "And I hate that anyone else is going to see you in it. Is the slit necessary?"

"It’s fashion, Damien," Aria said, leaning back into him.

Damien looked at Coco. "Leave the mark. Don’t cover it."

"Leave it?" Coco looked like he might faint. "Sir, this is a jewelry campaign. The focus should be on the necklace, not the... evidence of your marital bliss."

"The narrative is ’Power Couple’," Damien said. "Let the world see she’s claimed. It drives the engagement numbers up."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, thin velvet box—a Celestia loan.

He opened it. Inside lay a necklace of white diamonds and sapphires, arranged in a cascading waterfall design.

"Lift your hair," Damien commanded softly.

Aria obeyed. Damien stepped closer, his chest brushing her bare back. He draped the cold stones around her neck. The sapphires sat right next to the bruise, the dark blue gems making the mark look almost intentional.

"It works," Zoe chimed in from the floor, holding up her phone. " ’The King’s Mark’. Your followers on Instagram will lose their minds. It’s trashy-chic."

"So possessive," Aria whispered to Damien in the mirror.

"I am possessive," he murmured, fastening the clasp. "Especially after I heard who the male model is for the campaign."

Aria frowned. "I didn’t check the casting list. Who is it?"

"Erik," Damien said, looking annoyed. "Erik Vane. Kai’s younger cousin. The one who models underwear."

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Kai has a hot cousin?"

Damien’s hands tightened on her shoulders. "He’s not hot. And if he touches you during the shoot, I’m buying the modeling agency and firing him, then I’m going to kill him."

Aria laughed, turning in his arms to face him. "Jealous, Mr. Sinclair?"

"Very, Mrs. Sinclair," he admitted, kissing her forehead. He stepped back, admiring the view of his wife in the shimmering silver gown. "Now go, before I decide you have to change."