Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

The morning sun filtered softly through the heavy velvet curtains, casting warm golden beams across the silent suite.

At precisely eight o’clock, a soft, rhythmic knock echoed at the bedroom door before it swung open quietly. Samuel stepped into the room, impeccably dressed in a fresh charcoal suit, his wire-rimmed glasses catching the morning light, not a single hair out of place.

He carried a tray bearing a glass of warm lemon water and a freshly steamed towel. Walking over to the side of the bed, he set the tray on the nightstand and looked down at April’s peaceful, sleeping face.

”Miss April,” Samuel called out in his smooth, low register, his voice gentle yet firm.

April stirred beneath the duvet, letting out a faint, sleepy murmur as she slowly opened her eyes, her lashes fluttering against the glare of the morning sun.

Samuel bowed his head slightly, his posture immaculate.

”Good morning, Miss April. I must sincerely apologize for disturbing your rest so early,” Samuel said, his tone carrying a touch of genuine regret. ”I would have preferred to let you sleep in after such an... exhausting night. However, if you intend to attend the culinary competition again today, you must wake up and begin preparing now.”

”Ah, right... good morning, Samuel,” April murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She carefully pushed back the duvet and sat up, expecting her body to feel completely wrecked after everything that had transpired. Thanks to the thorough care and the warm bath, her muscles weren’t nearly as stiff as she anticipated, but the moment she shifted, a very real, lingering soreness bloomed deep between her thighs.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, and then down to her collarbone and shoulders where the loose neckline of her nightgown had slipped.

Dozens of dark, unmistakable hickeys—purplish blooms and faint teeth marks—littered her fair skin from her chest down to her arms.

April’s breath hitched in her throat. The vivid, chaotic memories of the previous night—Alexander’s intense focus, Xavier’s desperation, and Nat’s unrestrained, beastly hunger—flooded back into her mind all at once.

A sudden, fierce wave of heat rushed up her neck, painting her cheeks a deep, unmistakable crimson as she frantically pulled the nightgown higher to cover herself, her cool composure completely shattering under Samuel’s watchful gaze.

”Miss April,” Samuel said, breaking her lingering embarrassment with his usual calm, even cadence.

”Mm?” she hummed, still clutching the fabric tightly around her collarbone.

”Would you like to choose what you’ll wear from your own wardrobe, or should I step out to source a new outfit right away?”

”Ah, no, that would take too long,” April said quickly.

As she spoke, she suddenly registered a peculiar detail—she felt very clean. Not just wiped down, but thoroughly, completely refreshed. She blinked, looking up at Samuel. Had he called the maids in to clean her up while she was unconscious? Or had those three done it themselves?

The thought hovered in her mind, but she didn’t ask aloud, remaining completely unaware that her appointed High Steward had attended to every inch of her himself.

”Give me a moment,” she said softly.

Closing her eyes, April focused inward, projecting her consciousness straight into her spatial dimension. The moment her mental form materialized inside the serene, isolated realm, her composed mask completely shattered.

She covered her face with both hands and let out a full scream, thrashing slightly as the overwhelming wave of memories hit her all over again. Nat, Alexander, Xavier—it had been pure, unrestrained chaos. They had mated like absolute beasts... and the part that sent another flush through her spirit was that she had enjoyed every single second of that debauchery.

Does that mean I’m a beast too? she thought wildly, her mind spinning before she finally let out a long, heavy breath to force it all out of her system.

Shaking her head, she ran a hand through her hair to regain her grip. Focus. I have to focus. It’s over now, so I should focus on getting myself a dress.

It had actually been a while since she had mentally entered her spatial dimension, not to mention she still hadn’t physically walked through ’the door’ in the real world yet. Navigating through the grand, mansion-like structure she had projected into the space, she made her way straight to the walk-in closet.

She scanned the racks until her eyes landed on a bright, long-sleeved yellow dress featuring a crisp, high collar.

Perfect, she thought with satisfaction. It was stylish, vibrant, and, most importantly, fully covered her neck to hide every single hickey. She knew Emily would have endless teasing comments if she caught even a glimpse of those marks—and even if Emily said nothing, that sharp, knowing look in her sister’s eyes always made April feel completely seen through.

April opened her eyes back in the quiet bedroom, and the bright yellow dress instantly materialized on the bed in front of her.

”I’ll wear this,” she said, smoothing the fabric down.

Samuel bowed impeccably. ”Very well, Miss April. Then I will prepare a light toast and tea for you to start your morning.”

”Okay. Thank you, Samuel,” she replied softly, and Samuel turned to leave the room.

Though this was Nat’s private residence, Samuel was confident that even a man like Nat Collins would at least have a loaf of bread stored somewhere in his kitchen.

As Samuel made his way down the quiet, grand staircase, he encountered an unfamiliar face coming up from the main floor—Theo.

Theo, who knew practically every operative and contact within their syndicate, paused in his tracks. He knew every major player in Nat’s orbit, yet this impeccably dressed man was someone he had never seen before. And he was casually descending from the top floor.

Samuel walked past him without breaking his stride, heading straight toward the kitchen.

Theo frowned, preparing to head up to the master quarters to see what had been happening overnight, but before he could take a single step onto the landing, Samuel’s calm voice rang out from behind him.

”Do not head to the second suite on the left,” Samuel stated evenly, pausing just at the threshold of the hallway. He turned his head slightly, his dark eyes glinting behind his glasses. ”If you are looking for Nat Collins, you will find him in the main master bedroom. He had a rather... ’long’ night with my mistress, so it would be wise not to disturb him.”

With that sharp, subtle warning delivered, Samuel turned and continued on to the kitchen.

Theo stood frozen on the stairs, his mind working double-time as he tried to process what the quiet, intimidating man was implying. He was a man who overthought things when they were not stated plainly to him, and his running thoughts often made him stand in one stance for a long while in contemplation.

But before he could fully piece it together, the sound of soft steps echoed from above.

April was making her way down the stairs. The high-collared, long-sleeved yellow dress fit her flawlessly with no difficulty, though she kept one hand subtly pressed to her sore waist as she walked.

Since there was no hairbrush in the room, she had simply retrieved one from her spatial dimension to smooth out her locks, and now held a long, matching yellow ribbon in her free hand, intending to ask Samuel to tie it neatly around her hair.

The moment her eyes landed on the unfamiliar man standing halfway up the steps, April paused, her expression instantly returning to its usual cool, analytical composure.

”Who are you?” she asked directly.

Theo looked up, his eyes widening slightly. Ah—now that was a face he recognized instantly. Thanks to the boss talking about her incessantly and keeping her image strictly etched into their minds, Theo knew exactly who was standing before him.