Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

​The sedan rolled to a smooth stop at the main courtyard of the Reed mansion, its engine dying down into a soft, quiet purr.

The moment the car doors unlocked, April didn’t waste a single second. She grabbed her packaged dress and jewelry, stepping out onto the cobblestones with a brisk, focused stride.

Time was ticking, and the 9:00 PM auction wasn’t going to delay its allocated time for a late seer.

​Upstairs in her suite, the atmosphere instantly shifted into a whirlwind of professional preparation.

​Xavier had arranged for two of the estate’s top personal styling maids to assist her.

April sat completely still in front of the grand vanity mirror, her expression a deadpan mask of pure, clinical tolerance as hands flew around her.

She couldn’t be bothered so she kept playing her game.

One maid was carefully styling her long, healthy brown hair, weaving the thick strands into a sophisticated, loose low bun that left a few elegant framing pieces around her face.

The other was meticulously adjusting the lines of the midnight-black satin gown, securing the clean, structural straps across her shoulders and fastening the delicate, shimmering silver jewelry she had picked out at the boutique.

​When it came to the footwear, however, April had firmly drawn a boundary.

​”Absolutely not,” she stated flatly, pointing a sharp finger away from the four-inch designer stiletto pumps the maid was holding out. ”Take those stilts away. I value my physical stability more than anything.”

She had never worn four-inch heels in her life and trying it now would only land her with a broken or bruised ankle.

She would have really preferred her comfortable sneakers, but since the situation demanded formal footwear, she compromised on a pair of sleek, plain black leather block heels that rose barely two inches off the floor.

They were sturdy, comfortable, and allowed her to walk without feeling like she was balancing on tightropes.

”Better,”

​Once the final clasp of her necklace clicked into place, April stood up, smoothed down the heavy satin of her gown, and walked out of her suite.

​Down in the grand marble foyer, Xavier Reed was already waiting. He stood tall and imposing, dressed in a flawless, custom-tailored charcoal three-piece suit that screamed absolute corporate dominance.

Standing a step behind him was Samuel, looking equally sharp and professional in his formal attire.

​The sound of April’s low heels clicking against the marble stairs drew both of their gazes upward simultaneously.

​For a fraction of a second, the entire foyer fell into an absolute, breathless silence.

​The plain midnight-black satin gown clung beautifully to her proportions, striking a perfect balance between sharp, structural elegance and an untouchable, chilly allure.

Framed by her neatly styled hair and the subtle gleam of the silver necklace, she didn’t look like a fragile socialite or a corporate executive. She looked like a dangerous, breathtaking enigma.

​Both Xavier and Samuel were visibly taken aback, their eyes widening slightly as they tracked her descent.

Xavier’s dark pupils sharply contracted, a sudden, heavy intensity flaring deep within his gaze that he couldn’t quite mask in time.

​April stopped at the bottom of the staircase, taking in their stunned expressions with a thoroughly amused look.

​”What?” she asked, her voice a flat, deadpan tone as she casually adjusted her small evening purse. ”Never seen a pretty woman before?”

​Xavier cleared his throat, the subtle curl of a rare, genuine smile pulling at the corner of his lips as his composure locked back into place. ”You look... exceptionally prepared to conquer the auction floor, Miss April.”

​”I am prepared to acquire my assets, Mr. Reed,” she corrected smoothly, passing right between them toward the front exit without a single ounce of hesitation. ”Let’s get going.”

​Samuel quickly stepped ahead to open the doors, his eyes reflecting a profound, renewed sense of reverence as he escorted them to the waiting vehicle.

​The private auction house on the northern ridge was a literal fortress of wealth.

High stone arches, heavy wrought-iron security gates, and a sprawling crimson carpet welcomed the city’s most elite tycoons, land developers, and lineage families. Valets lined the driveway, processing a sea of high-end luxury vehicles.

​The moment April stepped through the grand double doors of the main pavilion, her eyes scanned the high-society crowd with hidden awe—though she did not show it and let her face drop into a thoroughly deadpan, unbothered expression instead.

​Thankfully, there was actually a factor that helped her remain calm and keep a deadpan expression. Standing near the center of the plush, gilded lounge were two incredibly familiar, towering silhouettes.

​Nat Collins was dressed in a surprisingly sharp, dark crimson suit jacket over an open-collared black shirt that was off its first three buttons, his vibrant red hair swept back, though his thick, chaotic sunglasses were still firmly resting on his nose bridge.

He looked every part like an elite, but looked just as dangerous to approach.

Standing right beside him was Alexander Greels, looking crisp and sharp in a classic navy tuxedo, though his face still carried a hint of exhaustion from the ongoing family purge.

​The moment they spotted April, both men immediately detached themselves from their respective circles and glided over with ridiculous speed.

​”What a spectacular coincidence!” Alexander exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with an intense, competitive spark as he took in her stunning black dress. ”Miss April, you look absolutely magnificent tonight. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here!”

​”Yeah, what are the odds?” Nat chuckled loudly, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets as his chaotic eyes gleamed behind his dark shades. ”We’re just here for the standard auction, little seer. Purely professional business. We definitely didn’t catch wind of Reed’s itinerary and decide to drop a few hundred million just to see you.”

​April stared at them, her face completely devoid of surprise. ”Right,” she said, her voice dripping with dry skepticism.

​She didn’t believe a single word out of their mouths. She knew exactly what these two predatory wealth-generators were up to—they were tracking her orbit like sharks sniffing out a high-value current.

But as her eyes drifted toward the massive, glittering banquet tables lining the side of the grand hall, she decided she didn’t care.

If they wanted to follow her around and spend their astronomical funds just to win her favor, she had absolutely zero complaints. Profit was profit, regardless of the source.

​”Excuse me,” April muttered flatly, bypassing them entirely. ”I haven’t had dinner yet.”