After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 97: Disinherited? Don’t Threaten Me with a Good Time

Chapter 97: Disinherited? Don’t Threaten Me with a Good Time

The silence in the ballroom following the slap and Aria’s comment was absolute. It was the kind of silence that usually preceded a natural disaster or a public execution.

Lydia Laurent recovered with the speed of a seasoned actress. Her hand flew to her reddening cheek, her eyes filling with instant, shimmering tears. Her lip trembled just enough to be tragic, but not enough to ruin her lipstick.

"Aria," Lydia whispered, her voice hitching. "I... I forgive you."

She looked at the crowd, her expression morphing into one of pitiful endurance.

"She’s always been like this," Lydia addressed the room, loud enough for the elite in attendance to hear but soft enough to sound reluctant. "Since she was a child. Volatile. Unstable. She resented me for marrying her father, even though we waited until... after... poor Eleanor passed. I tried to be a mother to her, but..."

She let out a shaky breath, looking at Grandfather Sinclair.

"Mr. Sinclair, I apologize for this display. I only wanted to greet you. I didn’t mean to trigger her... episode."

"An episode?" Grandfather Sinclair spat the word. He looked at Aria like she was a rabid dog that needed to be put down. "You strike a guest in my home? Your own mother?!"

"She not my mother," Aria started, her voice cold. "And you’re an idiot for actually falling for this act."

"Silence!" Grandfather Sinclair roared. "I have tolerated your disrespect, your horrible upbringing, and your insolence because of my grandson. But violence in my home during my gala, in front of all my friends? No. You are a spoiled, mentally unstable little girl with anger issues. And I will not have you in this family."

He pointed a shaking finger at the door.

"You are rejected. You are unfit. Get out of my sight before I have security drag you out."

Aria opened her mouth to retort, to tell him exactly where he could shove his rejection, but a warm, heavy weight enclosed her hand.

Fingers intertwined with hers. A palm pressed against her own, grounding her.

Damien.

He stepped up beside her. He didn’t look at his grandfather. He looked at Lydia. His golden eyes were dead—void of any emotion other than a terrifying, clinical boredom.

"Mrs. Vale," Damien said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the room like a razor blade. "You seem to have forgotten your place."

Lydia blinked, her tears pausing. "Mr. Sinclair, I—"

"You are a mistress," Damien continued, his tone flat. "A mistress with a questionable past, currently being investigated by the IRS for fraud involving shell companies in the Caymans. Is that correct?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Fraud? The IRS?

Lydia paled. "That is slander! I am here for charity!"

"You don’t have any money to donate," Damien noted, tilting his head. "Your assets are frozen. So why are you here? To rub shoulders with old men? To find your next mark before you throw Raymond Vale aside?"

He took a step closer, pulling Aria with him.

"You are a stalker, Mrs. Vale. You are obsessed with my wife. You follow her to events. You talk about her to the press. It’s pathetic."

He looked at his grandfather.

"And you," Damien said. "You’re listening to a woman who is one subpoena away from a prison cell? I thought you had higher standards."

Grandfather Sinclair turned a violent shade of purple.

"How dare you!" the patriarch shouted, stepping forward. "You defend this... this gold digger? This unstable brat who assaults people?"

Smack.

The crowd gasped. Several people dropped their glasses.

Damien Sinclair had slapped his grandfather.

He hadn’t swung wildly. It was a backhanded, dismissive strike across the face.

Grandfather Sinclair stumbled back, clutching his jaw, his eyes bulging. "You... you struck me?"

"You insulted my wife," Damien said calmly.

"She has blinded you!" Grandfather Sinclair screamed, spittle flying from his lips. "She has manipulated you with sex and lies! She is a whore who—"

Smack.

Damien hit him again. Harder.

Grandfather fell back into the arms of a passing servant, stunned into silence.

"Say it again," Damien dared him, his voice dropping to a whisper that echoed in the silent ballroom. "Say one more word about her."

Grandfather Sinclair stared up at him. He saw the look in Damien’s eyes—the look of a man who would burn the entire estate to the ground and roast marshmallows on the embers.

"Get out," Grandfather Sinclair wheezed, clutching his cane. "Get out of my house! You are dead to me! You are dead to this family!" 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Damien raised a hand to his chest, feigning a look of utter despair. His voice was a flat, sarcastic monotone.

"Oh no. What will I do without this family?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Mrs. Sinclair."

Aria snickered. She couldn’t help it. The sound bubbled up, breaking the tension. She looked up at him—at the sharp jawline, the unbuttoned collar, the sheer arrogance of the man who had just slapped the most powerful figure in his life for her.

It was... hot.

She squeezed his hand, letting him lead her out of the ballroom, leaving the wreckage of the Sinclair legacy behind them.

In the center of the stunned room, Lydia Laurent stood frozen. Her hand was still on her cheek, but the tears had stopped.

She stared at the retreating figures.

’Shit,’ she thought, her heart hammering.

She had underestimated him. She knew Damien was a powerful businessman who could survive without his family. But she thought even a man as powerful as him, had to answer to a higher power: The Sinclair Family Trust. She didn’t know he was a monster who would slap his own grandfather in public. There was a lot of important people in the room.

This changed everything.

He wasn’t bound by the strict, traditional rules of Old Money. He didn’t care that his grandfather cut him off.

A wicked, desperate smirk formed on Lydia’s lips as she watched the doors swing shut.

’Change of plans.’