Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

While the damp warehouse echoed with Nat Collins’s unhinged laughter, the upper echelons of the city’s financial district were plunging into a state of absolute terror.

Inside the executive office of Reed Industries, the silence was shattered.

The heavy doors burst open with a violent swing, and Samuel rushed into Xavier’s office.

All his usual rigid, impeccable composure was entirely gone. His tie was slightly askew, his hair disheveled, and his face was a mask of frantic, pale shock.

He was holding a tablet with a trembling hand, the screen reflecting a chaotic cascade of flashing red numbers.

”Mr. Reed!” Samuel gasped, his voice cracking under the sheer weight of the panic breathing down his neck. ”It’s... it’s a bloodbath.”

Xavier didn’t turn around immediately. He remained standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, hands tucked into his pocket, watching the early evening setting sun cast long, ominous shadows across the skyline.

But his shoulders tensed, his jaw tightening into a hard, rigid line. ”Speak, Samuel.”

”The market just suffered an instant, catastrophic collapse,” Samuel stammered, hurrying over to the desk and throwing the tablet down so Xavier could see the live feeds. ”It wasn’t a standard correction, sir. At exactly 5:52 PM, an anomalous, massive algorithmic sell-off triggered across the entire tech and energy sectors. It completely broke the exchange’s circuit breakers. Within seven minutes, the index plummeted by over forty percent!”

Samuel swallowed hard, his lungs burning as he delivered the terrifying metrics. ”The fallout is widespread. Leveraged positions are being wiped out entirely. A lot of major businesses—companies we partner with, rivals who were riding high this morning—are being plunged into unpayable debt right now. Margin calls are triggering everywhere. It’s an absolute wipeout.”

Xavier slowly turned around. His dark eyes flicked down to the tablet, tracking the vertical, terrifying drop on the charts. The graphs looked like a red blade cutting straight through the heart of the global economy.

A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room as the reality of the situation settled over them.

”Our positions,” Xavier said, his voice dangerously low, entirely calm despite the storm breaking outside. ”What is our exposure?”

Samuel took a breath, a sudden, overwhelming wave of awe washing over his panic. He looked at his boss, his voice dropping to a sharp whisper. ”Zero, sir. Because we initiated the emergency liquidation right after you received Miss April’s text, our final trades cleared exactly four minutes before the algorithmic cascade began. We paid twelve million in early exit fees...”

Samuel let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-gasp. ”...but we saved over four billion dollars in active capital. Right now, while the rest of the city is drowning in debt, Reed Industries is sitting on the largest reserve of pure, liquid cash in the country. We aren’t just safe, Mr. Reed. We are positioned to buy out our entire competitive landscape for pennies on the dollar when the dust settles.”

Xavier’s clenched fists in his pockets tightened until his knuckles turned white.

He didn’t celebrate. He didn’t smile. His mind immediately went to the unbothered woman who had predicted this entire financial apocalypse from her kidnapper’s den.

A catastrophic market crash is going to hit by this evening.

The words in her text echoed in his mind as if he had heard her voice in person, and it carried an almost supernatural gravity.

She had known the exact sectors, and the exact magnitude of the destruction and she had warned him.

And instead of using her final moments of communication to beg for a rescue, she had handed him a golden life-jacket that saved his entire empire from ruin.

He didn’t know why she warned him, if it was because it missed out on her prediction that morning when she did his reading, and she wanted to make up for it—though she’s still going to charge him—or if there was another reason for her to take such a risk.

”Sir,” Samuel murmured, his expression turning grimly alert as his quiet guilt reared its head again. ”If Miss April had this kind of precise data... It means she may be playing a game with the golden dragon who is known for hoarding wealth. Knowing her, she doesn’t miss an opportunity when she is given and she must’ve used this crash to buy her survival.”

”Or to buy his allegiance,” Xavier corrected, his voice cutting through the room like a frozen blade. He turned his gaze back to the window, staring into the darkening city. ”She didn’t want us to waste resources looking for her because she knew she would be holding Nat Collins by the throat the moment the crash happened. She’s very clever.”

A dark, possessive intensity suddenly flared deep within Xavier’s eyes. He felt a sudden, terrifying rush of pride for her brilliant, fearless maneuvering—but it was instantly eclipsed by a cold, sharp anger.

She was safe, yes. She was winning her game. But she was still in the hands of a monster, and Xavier had no intention of letting another man keep his most valuable asset—and the only woman who had ever caught his attention—for long.

”Keep the financial team on high alert to stabilize our assets,” Xavier commanded flatly, not turning back. ”And Samuel? Reorganize the tracking teams.”

”Are we going to resume the search for Miss April?” Samuel asked and Xavier said,

”Yes. But we aren’t looking for a helpless hostage anymore.” His barely perceptible reflection looked back at him through the clear glass as the corner of his lips curled into a ruthless grin. ”We are going to retrieve our business partner who is about to conclude her deal.”

Just then, the doors slammed open again and this time, it was. Rowdy heir breathing genetically, his tie loose and his blonde hair that had been slicked back perfectly for the conference that morning, had become a bird’s nest.

”Xavier Reed!” Alexander yelled, ”What’s this I’m hearing? Miss April was kidnapped?”

Xavier turned around and looked at Alexander. He was panting, frantic, his blue eyes bloodshot.

”And where did you hear that from, Alexander Greels?”