After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 118: A Billionaire’s Guide to Greasy Spoons

"Are you hungry?" Damien asked, guiding her to the sprawling leather couch that dominated the corner of his office. "I could have the chef from Le Ciel send up a tasting menu."

Aria flopped onto the couch, kicking off her fuzzy slides. She looked at him with a pout.

"Damien, nooooo. I want grease. I want salt. I want food that comes in a bag."

Damien sat down next to her, loosening his tie. "A bag?"

"Fast food," Aria clarified. She pulled out her phone and opened a delivery app. "Have you eaten today?"

"I had an espresso at six a.m.," Damien admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Okay, so, no," Aria muttered, scrolling. "Okay. We have options. Pizza? Burgers? Or fried chicken that claims to be from Kentucky but is spiritually from heaven?"

Damien leaned over to look at her screen, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "I have never eaten any of those things."

Aria froze. She turned to look at him. "You’ve never had a cheeseburger? From a drive-thru?"

"I have a personal chef, Aria. Why would I eat food made by a teenager in a paper hat?"

"Because it tastes good," Aria said solemnly. "We are getting everything. It’s a tasting menu, but for normal people."

She spent the next five minutes ordering an obscene amount of food—burgers, fries, nuggets, and something called a ’Loaded Potato Skin’—while Damien watched her with a mix of horror and fascination.

"Done," she announced, tossing the phone onto the cushion.

She shifted, turning to face him, tucking her legs under her. The playful mood dimmed slightly, replaced by the weight of the day’s revelations.

"While we wait," Aria said, her voice dropping. "I need to tell you what Raymond said."

Damien’s expression sharpened instantly. "What did he say?"

"He’s bankrupt," Aria said bluntly. "The company is hollow. He leveraged my mother’s shares years ago to pay off gambling debts. There is no inheritance."

Damien’s eyes darkened. "I’ll kill him."

"He’s already dying, it’s redundant," Aria waved a hand. "But that’s not the worst part. The only asset left was the Vale Estate. The land. And Lydia sold it last week."

"Sold it?"

"To a shell company," Aria confirmed. "S.H. Holdings."

Damien went still. The air in the room seemed to freeze.

"Sinclair Heritage," he said, his voice flat.

"Your family company," Aria nodded. "Lydia needed cash because the IRS froze her accounts. She sold my mother’s house to your family’s holding company for a quick payout. That’s why she was at the Gala. She wasn’t just crashing; she was there to collect the check from the acquisitions team."

Damien stood up and walked to the window, staring out at the city lights. His back was rigid.

"My grandfather likely doesn’t even know," Damien said, more to himself than her. "S.H. Holdings buys property automatically based on algorithms and zoning potential. A Vice President would have signed off on it. To my grandfather, it’s just another line on a spreadsheet."

He turned back to her.

"Getting it back isn’t going to be simple, Aria. The Elders hoard land like dragons. They never sell. Especially not to us. If I ask for it, the price will be... extortionate."

"I figured," Aria sighed, picking at a loose thread on the couch. "But it’s my mother’s house. I want it back."

"You’ll get it," Damien promised, walking back to her. "I don’t care if I have to buy the entire Heritage portfolio to get the deed. It’s yours."

A knock at the door interrupted them.

"Delivery," a muffled voice announced.

Damien unlocked the door. A security guard stood there, holding four large, grease-stained paper bags. He looked confused. "Sir? The... food."

"Leave it," Damien said, taking the bags.

He carried the feast to the coffee table. The smell of fried oil and spices filled the sleek, modern office, clashing violently with the leather and mahogany.

"Dinner is served," Damien announced dryly.

They sat on the floor, using the coffee table as a dining surface. Damien watched as Aria unpacked the boxes.

"Start with a fry," she instructed, handing him a thin, salty stick.

Damien ate it. He chewed thoughtfully.

"Salty," he judged.

"Dip it in the shake," Aria said, pointing to a cup of chocolate ice cream.

Damien looked at her like she had suggested dipping it in poison. "Why?"

"Just trust me."

He dipped. He ate. His eyes widened slightly.

"Okay," he admitted. "That works."

They ate on the floor of the skyscraper, surrounded by millions of dollars of corporate art and four dollars worth of cardboard packaging. Aria watched Damien struggle to open a packet of ketchup without getting it on his silk shirt. He eventually used his teeth to tear the corner, a surprisingly primal action for something so mundane.

"You’re a savage," she teased.

"I’m adapting," he retorted, squeezing the red sauce onto a burger.

Aria bit into her own burger, closing her eyes as the grease and cheese hit her tongue. "Oh my god. I needed this."

She opened her eyes to find Damien watching her. He wasn’t eating. He was just looking at her, his gaze soft and intense.

"You have ketchup," he murmured.

He reached out. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, wiping away a stray drop of red sauce. He didn’t pull his hand back. His thumb lingered on her lower lip, tracing the curve, the pad of his finger rough against her skin.

Aria swallowed. Her heart skipped a beat.

"You’re beautiful," Damien whispered, his voice rough.

He leaned in. He didn’t care about the food or the mess. He kissed her.

It tasted of salt and chocolate and him. Aria tasted the ketchup on his thumb as her hand came up to cup his jaw, her fingers sticky. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, chasing the taste of the milkshake. He pulled her closer, his hand tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck, not caring that he was getting grease on her skin.

It was messy. It was unrefined. It was perfect.

Aria pulled back, breathless, her lips swollen and tingling. She checked her phone.

7:30 PM.

"We have to go," she said reluctantly. "Kai said 8:00. And we still have to drive to Julian’s."

Damien sighed, standing up and pulling her to her feet.

"Fine. Let’s go see what the degenerate found."