After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 221: Going Live to Address the Nation

Aria slipped the hospital gown over her silk camisole and boxer shorts, tying the string at the back of her neck. It smelled faintly of industrial laundry detergent and old lavender, but aesthetically, it was absolutely flawless.

She settled into the plush leather of the backseat, waiting.

A minute later, the driver’s door clicked open.

Richard slid into the driver’s seat, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft thud. He reached up, adjusting his rearview mirror. The only evidence that he had just spent the last few minutes aggressively making out with a civilian was a very faint, almost microscopic smudge of pink lip gloss near the corner of his mouth.

Aria leaned forward, resting her arms on the center console.

"I just want to formally thank you for your noble sacrifice," Aria said, her voice dripping with genuine gratitude. "I know all that must have been incredibly awkward for you."

"Not really, Ma’am," Richard deadpanned. "I am quite familiar with Ms. Jade. We speak often."

Aria’s jaw dropped. "You do?"

"Yes," Richard confirmed smoothly. "We frequently run into each other at Sinclair Corporation Headquarters."

Aria immediately assumed that Jade was desperate to work there. The pay and opportunities were good, so it made sense.

’I need to put a good word in for her with Damien,’ Aria vowed to herself. ’It’s the least I can do.’

"Wait," Aria frowned, her eyes widening in sudden realization. "Didn’t she recognize you?"

"I informed her that while you are in the Intensive Care Unit," Richard recited, "Mr. Sinclair relegated me to perimeter duty in the subterranean parking garage."

Aria let out a delighted gasp, clapping her hands together.

"That is brilliant!" Aria cheered, absolutely thrilled by his quick thinking. "You deserve a raise, Richard. Remind me to tell Damien to double your bonus this quarter."

"Thank you, Mrs. Sinclair."

"Now, we just have to wait for her to pull out," Aria sighed, leaning back against the leather.

Ten minutes ticked by.

Fifteen minutes passed.

The sedan hadn’t moved an inch. The brake lights were glowing, but Jade was just sitting in the driver’s seat.

"What is she doing?" Aria groaned, her patience rapidly evaporating. "Is she taking a nap?"

Aria leaned forward again to peer out the windshield. As she did, her eyes caught something in the left breast pocket of Richard’s suit jacket.

Sticking out of the pocket was a pen.

It was a cheap, plastic gel pen topped with an obnoxiously large, fluffy pink feather. The barrel was aggressively bedazzled with rhinestones.

"Richard," Aria asked, pointing a finger at his chest. "Did you have that the entire time?"

Richard looked down at his breast pocket. He pulled the fluffy pink monstrosity out, holding it between two of his fingers.

"No, Ma’am," Richard answered. "It was given to me by Ms. Jade. She hand-crafted it. Her cellular contact information is attached to the barrel."

Aria’s eyes narrowed mischievously. She leaned over the center console, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh?" Aria teased, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Keeping her handmade crafts in your breast pocket? Are you keeping it because you’re interested?"

"No," Richard deadpanned. He didn’t hesitate for a single microsecond. The rejection was instantaneous and utterly devoid of emotion.

Aria burst into a fit of giggles.

She reached forward and plucked the pen right out of his hand. It was even tackier up close. Written down the side of the plastic barrel in thick, raised, silver glitter glue was Jade’s phone number, complete with a little sparkly heart at the end.

"She is definitely sitting in that car waiting for you to text her," Aria realized, tossing the pen onto the passenger seat.

Another five minutes passed. Jade still hadn’t moved.

"Okay, I am officially bored," Aria announced. "Perfection is an illusion anyway. If I wait for the perfect setting, I’ll be ninety."

Aria took out her phone and opened Instagram.

The dark, heavily tinted backseat of the SUV provided the perfect, ambiguous, shadowed backdrop. The hospital gown completed the illusion flawlessly.

She tapped the ’Live’ button.

The connection established instantly. Within three seconds, the viewer count spiked to ten thousand. At thirty seconds, it hit five hundred thousand.

By the time the timer crossed the two-minute mark, over a million people were staring at her face.

Aria offered a soft, tired, but undeniably radiant smile to the camera.

"Hey, everyone," Aria said, her voice smooth and gentle. "It’s been a while. I’m so sorry for sleeping for so long."

The comment section beside her face became an absolute, unreadable blur of text. The internet was collectively losing its mind. The speed of the incoming comments was lagging the app.

Aria casually pushed a strand of rose-gold hair behind her ear.

"I wanted to answer a few questions since my phone has been blowing up," Aria continued, her tone conversational. "Yes, I am in a car right now."

She paused, letting out a soft, exasperated chuckle.

"I woke up a little while ago, and I really wanted to surprise my husband at home," she lied flawlessly. "But the hospital completely ruined the surprise. They called him."

She angled the camera down slightly, just enough to show the hospital gown. "I didn’t even get to change," Aria sighed, shaking her head. "Still in my hospital couture."

She brought the camera back up, squinting playfully at the rapidly scrolling comments.

"Am I a clone?" Aria read one of the comments aloud, bursting into a genuine, musical laugh. "I am very real. Did I sell my soul to the devil to wake up? Guys, please."

She smiled warmly into the lens.

"I see a lot of you saying you’re happy I’m well. Thank you. I can’t wait to see you all very soon. But this live isn’t going to be long, I just wanted to say hello."

Aria blew a kiss to the camera. "Bye-bye."

She hit the ’End Live’ button.

Almost immediately, screen recordings of her brief, two-minute broadcast were being uploaded to Twitter, TikTok, and Reddit.

Aria let out a long sigh, sinking deep into the plush leather seats.

"I am actually so glad the coma ruse is over," Aria muttered, rolling her neck to pop a stiff joint. "Hiding from the world was getting exhausting."

Across the garage, the brake lights of the sedan finally flared. Jade put the car in drive and slowly pulled out of the underground structure.

"Finally," Aria cheered.

"Proceeding to the exit, Ma’am," Richard announced three minutes after.

Aria’s phone buzzed in her hand.

[My darling hubby: I’m on my way to the hospital.]

Aria quickly tapped out a reply.

[Aria: Change of plans. The paparazzi caused a massive traffic jam. Go to the penthouse instead.]

Three seconds later, the typing bubble appeared.

[My darling hubby: Sinclair Tower will be swarmed now. Go back to the hotel room. I will meet you there.]

Aria smiled. [Aria: Okay.]

"Richard," Aria called out. "Reroute to the hotel we were just at, please."

"Copy that."

The SUV emerged from the subterranean parking garage and merged onto the Manhattan streets.

Aria looked out the window. The city was in apocalyptic gridlock. Traffic was at a complete standstill, a sprawling sea of red brake lights stretching for miles down the avenue. The blare of angry car horns filled the night air. Even the NYPD cruisers attempting to direct the flow were entirely overwhelmed.

And as she watched the pedestrians crowding the sidewalks, every single person was glued to their glowing phone screens, frantically talking about the billionaire’s wife who had just resurrected.

She had brought the entire city to a grinding halt.

Aria felt a deep, profound sense of contentment settle into her bones.

She turned off her phone, instantly silencing the endless, frantic barrage of notifications.

She leaned her head against the cool leather of the window, closing her eyes, feeling utterly, untouchably victorious.

Aria was blissfully, tragically unaware of the career-ending audio clip that had just been posted to the timeline.