Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

​”I’m sorry, Mr. Greels, it’s just...” April gasped for air, wiping a tear from her eye as her smirk widened into something thoroughly wicked. ”I just realized why you have such a terrible, explosive attitude. You really, really need to learn how to relax. Otherwise, your performance in... certain areas... is going to keep declining before the world even ends.”

​Alexander froze entirely, his brain stalling out as her heavily implied words landed like a physical punch to his gut.

The crimson on his face deepened into a burning, furious blush. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, completely shattered by the realization that this mysterious woman had just casually read his most deeply buried, humiliating medical secret out loud.

​”You—how the hell do you even know about that?!” he roared, completely mortified.

​April casually slid her purse over her shoulder, her laughter subsiding into a highly satisfied, mocking snicker as she stood up.

She crossed her index finger over her lips, giving him a playful wink that left him absolutely paralyzed.

​”Like I said, Alexander... I see everything.”

Alexander stood frozen, his entire upper body vibrating with a dangerous mix of humiliation and pure rage. He clenched his fists so tightly his fingernails nearly bit into his palms, his chest heaving under his crisp white shirt.

And then, he let out an outburst.

​”I am not impotent!” he claimed, his roar echoing uselessly against the heavy, soundproofed walls of the VIP suite.

​April casually shook her head, entirely unfazed by his explosive outburst.

”I never said you were,” she replied smoothly, her voice carrying a rare, surprisingly pragmatic undertone. ”And erectile dysfunction brought on by psychological stress isn’t your fault. The solution is simple, really. Go to a doctor, get localized therapy and treatment. I assure you, it’ll be cleared up in no time.”

​Alexander’s mouth popped open like he wanted to argue but a strangled sound caught in his throat.

He looked at her as if she were a completely alien entity. One second she was a terrifyingly omniscient prophet dismantling a high-stakes corporate assassination plot, and the next, she was casually handing him medical advice about his sexual health like an unbothered older sister.

The sheer whiplash of it completely broke his brain.

​”Now, let’s not focus on this any longer and go to the hospital,” April declared, her tone instantly pivoting back to that of a sharp, unyielding authority figure.

She stepped past him, her sneakers squeaking softly on the plush rug. ”I have a very busy schedule today, Alexander Greels, and I don’t like compromises. Get your checkbook ready, and let’s go see your grandfather.”

​Alexander took a slow, deep breath, forcing the mortified crimson out of his face as his survival instincts finally overrode his shattered pride.

She was right. His grandfather was actively dying on a bribed doctor’s watch. He couldn’t afford to waste another second throwing a temper tantrum.

​”Fine,” he gritted out, snatching his tailored suit jacket from the back of the sofa and throwing it over his arm. ”We will go through the back service elevator. I’m not taking any chances with my uncle’s lookouts out front.”

​”Well then, lead the way,” April smiled brilliantly.

​When Alexander threw open the heavy suite doors, Samuel was standing exactly where he had been since the start, his posture pristine and his face an unreadable mask of corporate perfection.

However, the moment the chief assistant’s eyes flicked to Alexander, his brow twitched slightly. The young Greels heir looked as if he had just survived a multi-ton mental collision—his hair was slightly disheveled, his collar was crooked, and he radiated a profound, reluctant submission.

​”Miss April,” Samuel said, stepping forward. ”Is everything concluded?”

​”For now, Samuel,” April murmured, her eyes dancing with hidden amusement. ”But not entirely. So, Mr. Greels and I are taking a little trip to the private family clinic. Follow our lead.”

​”Understood, Miss.”

​The group moved quickly, taking Hensen’s restricted rear exit to slip into a nondescript, heavily armored SUV belonging to the Greels estate. Within twenty minutes, the vehicle was slicing through the afternoon traffic, heading toward the exclusive, high-security medical pavilion on the northern edge of the city.

April leaned her head back against the leather headrest, a subtle smirk playing on her lips. She could feel the heavy, anxious weight rolling off Alexander beside her, but her mind was already far off into the past and the future.

If this was before she would’ve been scrubbing floors, keeping her head down and stuttering apologies.

​But now? After her rebirth, those previous struggles felt so entirely futile, so incredibly distant. It was almost laughable how simple it truly was to just be bold. Confidence was flowing through her veins like a potent drug, a natural armor ensuring her head would never lower in inferiority again.

She felt like a completely different person—a predator rather than prey—and although she didn’t fully understand the mechanics of how this sudden metamorphosis had taken root, she absolutely loved this version of herself.

​Beside her, Alexander was staring straight ahead, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The heavy, anxious weight rolling off him was intense.

Every few seconds, his jaw would tighten, his mind clearly racing between horror over his grandfather’s poisoning and the lingering, mortifying sting of having his medical secrets laid bare by a woman.

​He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye, noting her completely relaxed posture.

”You’re remarkably calm for someone who’s about to infiltrate a private medical pavilion crawling with corporate spies and a dirty doctor,” he muttered, his voice rough but noticeably stripped of its earlier arrogance.

​April didn’t even turn her head, a faint, razor-sharp smirk remaining fixed on her lips. ”When you already know how the script plays out, Mr. Greels, there’s very little reason to experience stage fright.”

”Is that so?” He muttered and looked ahead. ”This confidence of yours... It’s remarkable.”

”Hm, I think so too.” He chuckled.

​The SUV smoothly glided into the restricted rear ambulance bay of the Greels Private Medical Pavilion.

Samuel, who had been sitting in the front passenger seat keeping a vigilant eye on the surrounding traffic, immediately stepped out the moment the vehicle came to a halt.

He opened April’s door, offering a hand with his signature, unflappable professional grace.

​”We have arrived, Miss April,” Samuel reported quietly, his eyes sweeping the quiet, concrete bay. ”The area appears clear, but I will maintain a direct radius around you.”

​”Thank you, Samuel,” April murmured, stepping out into the crisp, sterilized air of the facility. She adjusted her blazer, ensuring her posture remained unyielding.

​Alexander stepped out right behind her, slamming his door shut. The rowdy heir took a deep breath, his blue eyes shifting into a cold, determined focus as he pointed toward a heavy metal door marked Staff Access Only.

​”The service elevator leads directly to the VIP penthouse suite,” Alexander said, pulling an encrypted keycard from his pocket. ”My grandfather occupies the entire top floor. If the private physician is in there... What’s the plan? Do we just drag him out?”

​April turned her head, her predatory smile widening under the bright fluorescent lights of the bay as she prepared to step into the next phase of her master plan.

​”Dragging him out is far too loud, Mr. Greels,” she purred softly, walking toward the door. ”We are going to let him expose himself. Now, let’s go collect your inheritance.”