Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

​”You two are unbelievable,” Alexander muttered, shaking his head with a faint grin. ”Is every single morning going to be this loud?”

I hope not.

​”Only when we’re blessed with uninvited guests,” Nat cackled, casting a pointed glance at Oliver.

​April ignored their banter entirely, turning her attention back to the surgeon. ”Dr. Oliver, when is the tailor arriving?”

​Oliver checked his screen with a single flick of his thumb. ”The private mobile unit will be at the estate gates in precisely six minutes.”

​”Alright,” April nodded flatly. She turned to Emily, her hand still gently supporting her sister’s waist. ”For now, let’s go inside.”

​Emily finally looked up at the sprawling structure before them, her breath catching in her throat.

The Gabriel estate had been built on old-money aesthetics—heavy, dark mahogany, oppressive portraits, and dusty drapes that smelled of decay.

​The Reed estate, however, was an absolute marvel. High, sweeping glass walls, pristine marble, minimalist architecture blended seamlessly with priceless antiques, and sprawling high-tech security grids integrated into every corner. It radiated sheer, unyielding wealth and power.

​April led Emily up the wide marble staircase, guiding her to her room while Rufus and Lily followed happily behind them.

​”I’m going to give you a set of my own clothes to wear for now,” April said after taking one look at the hospital gown Emily was still wearing.

She walked over to her walk-in closet and pulled out a comfortable casual set—a soft silk blouse and tailored trousers. ”Until the tailors finish taking your measurements, this will do.”

​”I could’ve managed with whatever you gave me just fine,” Emily said, taking the clothes with shaking hands. ”There’s no need to go through the trouble of bringing high-end tailors here. You could have just given me a few spare shirts.”

​”You aren’t my servant, nor are you someone who I picked up for her case of charity,” April explained, her brown eyes entirely steady. ”You are my sister, whom I’ve found after twenty-six years. Everyone has their own style and taste, which is why I’m not going to force you to wear my hand-me-downs. The tailors are coming so you can choose exactly what you want. Don’t be shy.”

​Emily looked down at the soft fabric in her hands, then looked around the massive, sunlit bedroom in quiet, overwhelmed confusion.

​”Even if I’m your sister... we only just met,” Emily whispered, her voice cracking slightly under the weight of it all. ”Why go to such lengths for someone you barely know?”

​April looked at her twin, her posture unyielding. ”Because you are no longer a locked-away servant in an attic, Emily. You are my flesh and blood, and as long as you are standing beside me, you will wear clothes that you feel are comfortable and nothing less. I want you to have your own things.”

​Emily swallowed hard, a sudden lump forming in her throat as she gave a quiet, emotional nod.

​While Emily changed, Samuel tapped lightly on the open door frame. ”Miss April, the private tailoring detail has arrived and is set up in the main lounge downstairs.”

​”Thank you, Samuel,” April replied.

​When Emily stepped out wearing April’s clothes, the identical resemblance was almost uncanny—except for the faint, lingering pale exhaustion in Emily’s face and the fragile way she held her shoulders.

​As they walked downstairs, Emily flinched every time a security guard or staff member bowed politely.

The psychological scars of her trauma ran deep, making her jump at sudden movements, but she consciously forced herself to relax, keeping her eyes fixed on April’s steady, unshakeable back. April is here, Emily reminded herself, clutching her hands together. I am safe.

​In the lower lounge, the master tailors worked with silent, disciplined efficiency. They took Emily’s physical measurements, pulling out swatches of rare fabrics and presenting custom anti-ballistic formal designs for her personal approval.

Emily, completely unused to being treated like royalty, looked at the choices with wide, bewildered eyes, occasionally glancing at April for silent reassurance before quietly making her selections.

​Once the tailors gathered their materials and bowed out, the group left the lounge and went to the grand dining room.

April guided Emily to sit on her left, while Nat smoothly pulled out the seat directly to April’s right. Xavier took his place at the head of the table, his broad, commanding presence anchoring the room.

Alexander sat opposite to April on the other side of the table, while Samuel, who would usually stand the whole time, helped himself to the seat next to the head where Xavier sat and opposite Emily.

Oliver Baxter sat at the far end of the long table—maintaining his strict three-pace observational distance, his tablet propped up beside his glass of water as he silently monitored the room.

​Emily sat quietly, staring at the empty porcelain plate in front of her. The sheer shock of the last twelve hours—her mother’s death, her failed suicide attempt, the sudden appearance of her long-lost twin, and now sitting among the most powerful men in the city—had completely stolen her appetite.

Her stomach felt tightly knotted.

​April glanced sideways at her twin’s untouched plate as the first set of light appetizers was laid out.

​”It is a very bad habit to leave food untouched,” April stated flatly, picking up her silver fork. ”Make sure you dig in, Emily. I won’t hear a single excuse.”

​Emily gulped softly under April’s stern gaze. ”I... okay.”

​She slowly picked up her fork, taking a small bite of the freshly prepared poached salmon with herb butter.

The moment the flavor hit her tongue, her eyes widened. It was rich, delicate, and unlike anything she had ever tasted during her years of forced starvation.

Before she even realized what she was doing, Emily took another bite, then another, quietly beginning to eat with genuine hunger.

​April gave a small, satisfied nod. Good thing.

​Then, April turned her head, her dark eyes sweeping across the dining table.

​Xavier was watching her. Nat was leaning back, staring at her with an amused smirk. Alexander was adjusting his napkin and acting like he didn’t care about what was going on, while Samuel sat upright, his thin-rimmed glasses reflecting the chandelier light.

None of them were eating. In fact, they were all staring directly at her—completely ignoring Emily, who was currently putting on a show by eating like she had just been freed from a cage.

​April’s brow furrowed in dry irritation. ”If you aren’t sitting at this table to eat, then get out. You’re making Emily nervous with your stares.”