Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

Samuel stood in silent stillness for a lingering second; his dark eyes locked onto her face as her question hung in the quiet room.

Of course she wouldn’t know.

She saw him as the immaculate, unflappable high steward—the immovable pillar of her life. She couldn’t see the dark, blinding obsession rooted deep in his chest, how she was his idol, his goddess, the single center of his entire world.

He adored her, worshiped her and yet dared to look at her lips, her delicate neck, and harbor feelings far beyond the bounds of his station. But an invisible, unyielding force bound him to stay in character, keeping his immense devotion trapped beneath a mask of absolute professionalism.

He would never harm her. Never force her. If she hesitated now... if she wanted to stop right at this threshold... Who was he to say now?

”Miss April,” Samuel finally spoke, his voice dropping into a thick, low murmur. ”I assure you, nothing is against my will.”

Daring to cross an unwritten line, he reached out, his slender fingers softly caressing the side of her flushed face before gently tucking a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear.

At his tender, unexpectedly warm touch, a subtle shudder rippled through April’s body. Her long eyelashes fluttered, a soft, involuntary breath escaping her lips as her mind registered the strange, electric thrill his fingers left on her skin.

She looked up at him, her dark eyes searching his face, still clinging to her pragmatic boundaries despite the faint flush warming her cheeks.

”Regardless...” April whispered softly, gathering her composure. ”Is there... another way to demonstrate?”

Samuel swallowed hard, a brief, tiny flash of pain flickering in his dark eyes before he instantly buried it. He stepped back, creating a polite distance between them, and offered a smooth, flawless smile as if nothing had happened at all.

It felt painfully clear to him in that moment—she didn’t want him. But he would never complain. He would bow, adhere to her every wish, and remain content in the shadows where he belonged.

”Another form of demonstration would be for you to do it with your own fingers,” Samuel explained calmly, his tone shifting back to that impeccably refined, instructional cadence. ”Though I doubt that is quite the sensory comparison you are after. So...”

Behind his back, his fingers clenched tightly into a rigid fist, his knuckles turning white.

Samuel turned his head slightly toward the grand entrance, his eyes catching sight of a figure stepping through the heavy glass doors.

”How about we let a love interest handle it?” Samuel suggested silkily.

April blinked, turning her head toward the entrance in surprise. She hadn’t even heard the sound of his car pulling into the courtyard.

There stood Xavier, holding his suit jacket over one shoulder, his eyes sweeping across the quiet living room until they landed directly on April sitting on the sofa.

”April? You aren’t asleep yet?” Xavier asked, stepping into the warm glow of the living room.

April shook her head softly, her posture relaxing against the sofa. ”No. I was just having a discussion with Samuel. We were having a lesson.”

Xavier raised a single brow, his gaze shifting to Samuel with a hint of mild curiosity. ”A lesson? In the middle of the night?”

”Yes, Master Reed,” Samuel replied smoothly, stepping back into his role of refined composure, his hands resting naturally behind his waist. ”And it seems your inclusion is required to complete it. Would you care to join us?”

Xavier didn’t have the faintest idea what kind of curriculum Samuel was running at this hour, but the quiet, lingering tension in the room piqued his interest. He tossed his suit jacket onto a nearby armchair and began slowly rolling up his crisp white shirt sleeves, exposing his strong forearms.

”Alright, I’ll join,” Xavier said, stepping over and taking a seat on the sofa right beside April. He leaned back, resting an arm along the back of the cushion. ”What do I need to do?”

”Right now, we are working on comparisons,” Samuel explained, his tone completely professional, as if delivering a financial report. ”Specifically, comparing Mr. Collins’ rough, unrestrained touch to a lighter, more controlled stimulation—one that yields the exact same climax without leaving lingering sensitivity or unsatisfied longing.”

Xavier tilted his head, looking between the two of them with an amused, slightly puzzled frown. ”Okay... and what is the subject of this comparison?”

”It is not a subject, Master Reed,” Samuel said, his dark eyes behind his glasses remaining entirely unblinking. ”It is Miss April’s chest. You will need to fondle and suck on her nipples.”

The air in the living room went completely still.

Xavier froze mid-motion, his hand locking over the sleeve he had been lazily rolling up. The lighthearted curiosity on his face instantly shattered. He blinked, staring at Samuel in utter shock, his mind momentarily refusing to process the words that had just left his mouth.

He hadn’t expected the conversation to take a sharp left turn directly into the specifics of April’s body.

”Her... what?” Xavier choked out, his voice dropping a full octave, a sudden spike of heavy, suffocating heat flooding the air between them.

His eyes snapped wide, darting from Samuel’s unreadable face down to April, who was sitting beside him looking entirely calm and unbothered. A vivid red flush rushed up his neck, staining his sharp jawline as the sheer absurdity—and intense heat—of the request hit him all at once.

”Wait a second,” Xavier rasped, clearing his throat hard as he tried to regain his composure. ”You’re telling me Nat was touching her chest, and now you want me to show her how it’s actually supposed to be done?”

”Precisely, Master Reed,” Samuel replied smoothly, stepping back into the shadows near the sofa, his hands clasped neatly behind his lower back. ”Mr. Collins applied a somewhat unrefined amount of friction, leaving Miss April with lingering physical sensitivity and an unresolved response. As part of her education regarding proper touch and personal boundaries, a more... refined demonstration is required.”

Xavier stared at Samuel for a long, heavy beat, a sudden wave of embarrassment washing over his initial irritation. He rubbed the back of his neck, his jaw tightening as he admitted something that felt intensely humiliating for a man of his status and age to voice out loud.

”Look, Samuel... as embarrassing as this might sound coming from me,” Xavier muttered, his voice dropping low, his cheeks burning hotter, ”I’ve never touched a woman like that before. I’m completely inexperienced. So, I don’t even know what this ’proper way’ is that you’re referring to.”

Samuel adjusted the bridge of his glasses, completely unfazed. ”Which is precisely why I will be present to guide you through every step of the process, Master Reed.”

Xavier stalled for a second, his eyes snapping back to Samuel in sheer disbelief. ”Wait... you’re going to be watching?”

”Naturally,” Samuel replied seamlessly. ”To ensure the technique is applied correctly and to monitor Miss April’s response.”