Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

As April cradled Xavier’s face, a cold, sharp realization pierced through her empathy, sending a chill straight down her spine.

Why am I the one who has to give him a purpose?

The question echoed in her mind, heavy and foreboding. She wasn’t a deity. She was just a seer, a prophet. Yet, the cosmic architecture of their reality had positioned these men—a Saint, a High Steward, a knight and a villain—around her, their very souls and psychological survival tethered directly to her presence.

Her mind began tracing the broader implications. The Classes weren’t just personal quirks; they were specialized instruments forged for a specific, impending reality. A Saint required a divine cause to keep from hollow despair. A High Steward required absolute, self-sacrificing devotion. A beast required a leash.

What kind of world demands an army of such hyper-specific, broken guardians?

The details she had dismissed as simple mechanics suddenly felt like pieces of a terrifying puzzle assembling itself in the dark. The unspoken threat on the horizon wasn’t just a simple zombie apocalypse. Something big enough that the origin of this system itself was grooming her to hold the reins of these dangerous, devoted men.

April tightened her grip on Xavier’s jaw slightly, her dark eyes narrowing as the weight of that unseen future settled onto her shoulders.

”Xavier,” she murmured softly, her voice steadying as she looked into his searching eyes. ”You aren’t being left behind.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping briefly as he pursed his lips, trying to pull back from the overwhelming intensity of her touch. A quiet, defensive shame flickered across his face—the instinct of a man trying to pull his composure together before he unraveled completely.

April didn’t let him retreat.

She slid her cool palm slowly up the side of his jaw, her fingers threading deep into the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. Her touch was firm, holding him grounded right there with her.

”Look at me, Xavier,” she murmured softly, her voice an anchor in the quiet study.

His eyes flicked back to hers, dark with a heavy mix of vulnerability, hesitation, and raw, restrained hunger.

Taking his broad, trembling hand from where it rested uselessly beside him, April brought it down, guiding his palm to rest flat against the curve of her waist. Her skin radiated warmth right through her clothes beneath his touch.

”Feel me,” she added, her gaze unblinking as she tightened her grip on his neck.

She stepped in even closer, closing every remaining inch of space until her chest was pressed flush against his. To bridge the slight height difference between them, April pushed herself up onto the very tips of her loafers, leaning her full weight into his body. Xavier’s hand on her waist tightened instinctively, anchoring her to him as his breath hitched sharply.

Looking up into his searching, flushed face, April tilted her head slightly, her lips hovering just a fraction of an inch from his.

”Kiss me, Xavier.”

The command was simple, but to Xavier, it sounded like absolution.

A low, ragged sigh escaped his throat as he abandoned all hesitation. His hand at her waist tighten and surged forward, pulling her body deeper into his, while his other hand reached up to gently cup the back of her head.

He bent down, capturing her lips with a sudden, desperate heat.

The kiss wasn’t timid or cautious like before. It was deep, possessive, and heavy with a raw, long-suppressed hunger. His tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her, drinking in her quiet warmth as if he were a dying man reaching water.

The contrast between his usual reserved demeanor and the fierce, unyielding way he held her was staggering. He consumed her mouth with a breathless reverie, his heart hammering against her chest like a trapped beast.

April leaned into him completely, her fingers staying tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck as she met his intensity stroke for stroke. She felt the heavy, rigid line of his erection pressing firmly against her stomach through her clothes, the sheer heat radiating off his body filling the small space between them.

When he finally pulled back just a fraction to catch his breath, his forehead rested against hers. His chest heaved violently, his eyes dark, glazed, and entirely consumed by her.

”April...” Xavier rasped, his voice rough and utterly stripped of his usual composure. His hand at her waist tightened, his thumb stroking through her clothes against her hip. ”Tell me what you want from me. Anything. Just... give me something to do for you. I need to know I matter to you too.”

He was practically pleading, offering his complete, unconditional devotion up to her on a silver platter. It wasn’t enough that he knelt before her before. It didn’t matter that he taken her hand in his and kissed her knuckles as he swore himself to her.

April looked up at him, her dark eyes clear and analytical, yet softened by the undeniable bond tightening between them. She reached up, her thumb brushing over his wet, flushed bottom lip.

”For now,” April murmured softly, her voice steady and grounding, ”I want you to stay right here with me. And stop avoiding my eyes.”

A faint, breathless chuckle escaped Xavier’s throat, a wave of profound relief washing over his tense shoulders. The hollow void in his chest didn’t disappear completely, but for the first time all day, the cold ache receded, replaced by the searing warmth of her presence.

”Alright,” Xavier whispered, leaning down to press another soft, lingering kiss against her cheek. ”I won’t look away again.”

She looked into his eyes. There was something, a spark, and she wanted to feel that spark igniting because of her.

Meanwhile, Emily smoothed down the skirt of her floral dress, stepping out onto the porch like a beautifully styled doll. She glanced around the entrance hall, half-expecting April to be waiting there to give her one last protective lecture, but her sister was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, a tall, sharply dressed man stepped forward from the shadow of the driveway.

”Miss Emily,” Leo said, offering a crisp, polite bow. ”Master Reed has assigned me to accompany you tonight. I will be driving you wherever you wish to go and ensuring your safety from a discreet distance.”

Emily blinked, pleasantly surprised by how seamless it all was. She turned her head back toward the quiet mansion, a warm, affectionate smile touching her lips. Sister must be busy right now, she thought with a light chuckle. She won’t mind if I go ahead.

”Alright, thank you, Leo,” Emily said cheerfully, slipping into the backseat as he opened the door for her. Within moments, the car glided down the long driveway and disappeared past the estate gates.

Upstairs in Xavier’s study, the door remained shut against the rest of the world.

The quiet room was thick with a heavy, breathless heat. Xavier had pulled April tight against his body, his hands greedily tracing the curve of her waist as their lips locked in a deep, desperate kiss. All lingering hesitations had dissolved.

His fingers worked urgently, undoing the buttons of her top while April’s hands tugged his shirt free from his waistband, exposing the broad, firm muscle of his chest.

As his hand slid down toward the clasp of her trousers, Xavier suddenly froze, his forehead resting against hers as his chest heaved.

”Wait...” Xavier rasped out, his voice thick and rough with restrained desire. He swallowed hard, trying to summon a shred of sanity. ”April... you’re still on your period.”