Aiden Reed froze mid-flinch.
He'd braced himself for the worst—a brutal cleaning, a rogue dental drill, maybe even some pointed commentary on his love life—but not this.
He blinked up at the young dentist, her eyes kind behind clear-framed glasses.
"Wait… you're a fan?"
The woman crossed her arms, mildly annoyed. "Yeah. I saw your documentary on Appalachian school reform last year. It was raw. Honest. I shared it with my book club. We cried. Twice."
Aiden blinked again.
Not a Valeria superfan. Not here for vengeance. No hidden scalpels or cold stares. Just... genuine admiration?
"You're not mad about the wedding?" he asked cautiously.
She rolled her eyes. "Please. I love Valeria, but I'm not insane. And I've read enough internet theories to know most of them were written by people in dark rooms who've never touched grass. I thought you were sketchy at first, sure—but after watching more of your stuff, I realized you're just awkward. Not evil."
Aiden let out a long breath and sagged back into the chair. "Awkward, not evil. You know what? That might be the nicest thing anyone's said to me all week."
"You're a solid journalist," she added. "Even if your public image is… soggy."
"Soggy?"
"Like a sad sandwich. But redeemable."
He squinted at her. "This pep talk is wildly confusing."
She grinned. "Let's yank that tooth before you lose your will to live. You'll need your smile for the next press ambush."
He hesitated. "Gentle hands, please. I have at least three dreams left."
"My family's been pulling teeth for four generations," she said, tying the bib around his neck. "Also, can I get a selfie after? For my mom. She's obsessed."
Aiden raised a brow. "If I lose more teeth, do I get a frequent flyer card?"
"Ten percent off your next extraction," she replied sweetly.
The procedure took less than five minutes.
Aiden had braced for medieval torture. Instead, it was a little pressure, a quiet pop, and done.
"Gently bite down," the dentist instructed, shoving gauze into his mouth. "No rinsing, soft foods only, and absolutely no whiskey, no matter what TikTok says."
She peeled off her gloves, pulled out her phone, and leaned in.
"Smile! Or… try."
Flash.
Aiden left the clinic with a swollen cheek, a paper bag of antibiotics, and a freshly liberated molar in his hand. It had been with him for 28 years. He felt oddly sentimental.
"Don't take it personally," he muttered to the tooth, pocketing it. "You hurt me first."
He walked home, crossing 3rd Avenue just a few blocks from his Brooklyn apartment. The late-summer air was humid, his jaw throbbing in time with his heartbeat.
Then a voice split the air behind him.
"Aiden Reed!"
He turned.
And caught a fist to the face.
Pain exploded across his cheekbone. He stumbled backward, crashing into a flower vendor's cart and knocking over a bouquet of sunflowers. Dazed, he looked up.
A wild-eyed man in a hoodie stood panting in front of him, eyes gleaming with manic purpose.
With a flourish, the man yanked open his coat like a magician unveiling a trick and pulled out a massive red banner:
DUMP THE LEECH. GIVE US BACK VALERIA.
—Signed, Level 20 Moderator, Valeria Quinn Global Fandom Alliance
Aiden squinted. "Oh hell."
Click.
Phones. Flashbulbs. A black SUV across the street burst open as paparazzi spilled out like a clown car at a funeral. Within seconds, the scene was chaos.
"Fight me, Aiden!" the man yelled. "If you beat me, I'll delete my fan account. If I win, you walk away from Valeria forever!"
Aiden stared. He genuinely didn't know which part was more absurd: the duel challenge, the fan account wager, or the fact that this guy had clearly printed a banner for the occasion.
If he fought back, he'd be trending as 'Valeria's Violent Husband.'
If he didn't, it'd be 'Spineless Gold-Digger Exposed.'
Lose-lose.
And tomorrow, someone else would probably show up with a sword.
What was he, a contestant on America's Next Top Spouse?
"Coward!" the man yelled. "No wonder you don't deserve her!"
He lunged and grabbed Aiden by the hoodie collar.
That's when Aiden fought back.
Sort of.
He opened his mouth and spit a mouthful of bloody gauze straight into the guy's face.
The man screamed.
People screamed.
An elderly woman dropped her groceries and made the sign of the cross. A toddler burst into tears.
Aiden calmly dabbed his chin with a tissue from the dentist's goodie bag.
"Sorry," he said deadpan. "Just had dental work."
The man staggered back, gagging. The paparazzi lost their minds, shutter speeds clicking like machine guns.
Aiden scanned the ground, brows furrowed.
"Wait… where's my tooth?"