They wasted no time at the bank. Because April was accompanied by Samuel—who carried the undeniable weight and clearing authority of Reed Industries—the premium banking managers bypassed the standard processing lines entirely.

They escorted April into a private, high-security glass office, serving her chilled water while the branch manager personally handled the fifty-million-dollar check.

​Within ten minutes, the transaction was fully authorized and logged.

​Bzzzt.

​The vibration of her new Titanium Pro phone echoed in her hand. April unlocked the screen, her eyes lighting up as she read the automated bank notification: Account Balance: $57,893,000.00.

​Right beneath that alert, a new text message popped up from the unknown number she had saved the previous night. It was a pin-drop location and a single, demanding sentence: [Hensen’s Lounge. VIP Suite 4. Come alone.]

​"Perfect," April murmured, a thoroughly satisfied smirk returning to her lips as she slid the phone into her purse, keeping her fingers tightly wrapped around her black card. "Now, let us head to my next appointment."

​Samuel smoothly stepped forward, opening the heavy glass doors of the bank lounge for her as they walked back out to the sunlit parking lot. "An appointment, Miss April? If you could provide me with the details, I will immediately integrate it into your schedule for the day."

​"Well, it’s an appointment with a really arrogant heir," April replied casually, her voice laced with amusement.

She stepped toward the luxury sedan, tilting her head as she thought about the broadcast from this morning.

"Maybe I should get him a congratulatory gift for his new promotion... Oh, wait. No need. This entire succession is already thanks to me anyway."

​Samuel adjusted his glasses, his professional mask perfectly holding, though his mind instantly pinned down exactly which ’arrogant heir’ she was talking about. He didn’t ask a single probing question, simply navigating the vehicle into the upper-crust district toward Hensen’s Lounge.

​Hensen’s Lounge was an exclusive, hyper-private establishment hidden behind a discreet, unmarked facade in the city’s financial heart. It was the kind of place where high-tier tycoons and political figures met when they didn’t want to be recorded by media lenses.

​When they arrived, the floor manager bowed respectfully to Samuel—recognizing him instantly as Xavier Reed’s right hand—and when they told him their appointment with a certain high profile heir, he swiftly guided them through a dim, soundproofed corridor toward VIP Suite 4.

​The heavy doors pushed open, revealing a lavishly decorated room filled with low leather couches, dim ambient lighting, and a sweeping view of the inner courtyard.

Standing near the center of the room was Alexander Greels. He had discarded his suit jacket from the morning press conference, his white dress shirt slightly unbuttoned at the collar, though his blonde hair was still immaculate.

Positioned directly behind him were two massive, hefty bodyguards who looked like they could break a man’s ribs with a single hand.

​The moment Alexander’s sharp blue eyes landed on April, his entire posture turned volatile, wired with a dangerous cocktail of leftover adrenaline and sheer disbelief.

He watched her as she took a seat without waiting for permission and his eyes narrowed.

​"Get out," Alexander commanded flatly, his eyes locking onto April while gesturing to the giants behind him. "All of you. Leave us. Now."

​The bodyguards didn’t hesitate, bowing their heads and stepping toward the exit.

Samuel remained still, not knowing this implied to him as well.

"I thought I told you to come alone, why did you bring a lackey?" Alexander hissed, looking at Samuel and Samuel paused, his eyes darting briefly to April to check if she required his presence as a shield, but April merely gave him a subtle, reassuring nod.

She didn’t mind the isolation in the slightest. She knew exactly what cards she held; Alexander had absolutely no logical reason to hurt the only woman who knew the secrets of his survival. She was entirely, beautifully confident.

​Samuel bowed and stepped backward out of the suite, the heavy soundproofed doors clicking shut behind them, sealing the two of them in absolute silence.

​The very second the lock engaged, the rowdy heir snapped. Alexander took three long, aggressive strides across the room, stopping directly in front of her chair.

He leaned down, slamming his hand forcefully over the backrest of her seat, trapping her within his shadow as his handsome face came dangerously close to hers. His blue eyes were bloodshot, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.

​"Who the fuck are you?!" he scowled, his voice a low, threatening hiss that vibrated with raw desperation.

​April didn’t flinch. She didn’t blink. She simply leaned back slightly into the leather cushions, looking him dead in the eyes with a freezing, unbothered composure. "Be nice to me, and then I might actually tell you, Mr. Greels."

​Alexander, who had spent his entire life using his status, height, and hot temper to instantly intimidate anyone who crossed him, suddenly felt a bizarre, icy wave of intimidation rolling right back onto him from this single, small woman.

Her calm was unnatural. It completely shattered his rhythm.

​He didn’t move away, his chest heaving as he tried to maintain his leverage. "I watched the security footage from the hospital garage this morning," he muttered, his voice shaking. "My empty decoy vehicle was completely ambushed by six armed men with iron bars and clubs. If I had driven in there like I planned... I’d be in a coma right now. Or worse. Nobody knew about that route. Nobody. So I’ll ask you again—how did you know?"

​"I’m a seer," April said smoothly, her lips curving into a faint, mocking smile. "And I can tell you your future. All for the right price, of course."

​Alexander’s eyes narrowed into slits, a dark, desperate skepticism flaring up.

"A seer? You think I’m an idiot? Then tell me... can you tell what I’m going to do right now? Can you foresee if I’m going to strangle you or not?"

April’s expression slightly faltered, a flash of cold annoyance entering her gaze.

"It doesn’t work that way," she said, her voice dropping into a sharp, commanding register. "And I explicitly told you to be nice to me. Is it that you were born so arrogant that you can’t resort to anything but brute force and violence? Throwing your weight around, your height, your status... You’re really something, Mr. Greels."

​She didn’t wait for his response. April raised her right hand, pressing her palm firmly against the center of his broad, white-shirted chest. She didn’t use any sort of supernatural strength—she didn’t have any—but the sheer, unyielding psychological force of her movement made Alexander instinctively step back.

She pushed him away until he had retreated two full steps, clearing her space entirely.

​April smoothly stood up from the armchair, smoothing down her dress as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder.

"You have to trust me if you want me to help you, Alexander. And if you can’t manage even that basic level of decency..." She looked at him with an expression of pure, effortless disappointment. "Then it seems I might have completely misjudged your capacity, and thus wasted my valuable morning. Goodbye, Mr. Greels."

​She turned on her heel and began walking toward the exit doors, her sneakers stepping soundlessly on the plush carpet, but in her mind, there was a countdown.

​Three. Two. One.

​BANG!

​Just as her hand reached out for the brass handle, a large hand slammed violently against the wood right beside her head, pinning her against the frame.

April paused, staring at the polished wood just inches from her face. She internally let out a small, irritated sigh. Why do these billionaires always have to be so incredibly difficult? But not even Xavier Reed’s was this difficult.

​"I do need help," Alexander rasped out from right behind her, his breath hitting the back of her hair.

He sounded as if he were literally biting the words out of his own tongue, his massive pride cracking under the weight of his reality. "But if you’re trying to use the fact that I’m desperate just to rip me off—"

​"How much are you willing to pay?" April cut him off flatly, turning around within the narrow space between his chest and the door.

​Their proximity was incredibly close now, his arm still locked against the wood to pin her in place, his blue eyes staring down into hers with a wild, chaotic intensity.

"What?" he blinked, thoroughly confused by her sudden turnabout.

​"How much are you willing to pay for me to read your future and help you escape a tragic, agonizing fate?" April pressed, her voice a dangerous, alluring purr as she looked up at him. "The amount you call forth right now will let me know exactly how serious and desperate you are about saving your own life and your grandfather’s legacy."

​Alexander went completely silent, his jaw tightening as he stared at her brilliant, calculating smile. His mind was in an absolute state of war.

He knew he might be making the biggest mistake of his life. He might be getting swindled by the most sophisticated con artist the city had ever seen.

But his rational mind couldn’t ignore the facts—there was absolutely no such thing as a coincidence that precise. The ambush had happened exactly where and when she said it would. Still, a part of him feared this was an elaborate setup to get him permanently hooked on her string.

​’If she dares to mess with me,’ he thought, his inner rowdy edge flaring up, ’I will personally show her why crossing the Greels family is a fatal move.’

​He slowly took his hand down from the door, stepping back to give her space. Reaching into his inner pocket, he pulled out a leather checkbook and a ballpoint gold pen. He penned the details with a rapid, aggressive flourish, tore the paper from the spine, and held it out to her.

​"Twenty million," Alexander said, his teeth gritted. "This is my upfront fee just to get you to sit back down. If your next ’prediction’ comes true and saves my ass as well as my asset, I’ll pay you an extra thirty million. Is that better?" 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

​April reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against his as she took the slip of paper. The heavy, distinct scent of fresh ink and twenty million dollars made her insides absolutely giddy with triumph.

Another golden fish had successfully swallowed the hook.

​"We have a deal, Mr. Greels," April chuckled softly, sliding the check smoothly into her purse, directly into her spatial dimension, before crossing her index finger over her lips with a knowing wink. "Now. Shall we sit down and talk about the poison inside your grandfather’s veins?"

Alexander froze, the gold pen slipping slightly in his fingers. The breath completely left his lungs as his blue eyes widened in pure, unadulterated shock. "What... what did you just say?"

​"I asked if we should talk about the poison running through your grandfather’s veins," April repeated effortlessly, walking back to her leather armchair and sinking into it like a queen reclaiming her throne.

She smoothed down her dress, looking up at him with a calm, terrifyingly omniscient gaze. "Or did you honestly think the old commerce legend just happened to fall critically ill the exact week your uncle decided to launch a corporate coup?"

She had seen it the previous day that his grandfather was poisoned, and it was clear who poisoned him. She could hair piece the things together to make a conclusive reading.

​Alexander stood rooted to the floor, his teeth grinding so hard his jaw began to ache. His hands trembled, a violent mix of rage and horror clawing at his chest.

"Poison...? That... That’s impossible. He has a private medical team monitoring him twenty-four hours a day! The reports say it’s natural organ failure!"

​"Paid for and fabricated by your uncle," April countered smoothly, crossing her legs. "The private physician administering the treatment was likely bribed months ago. It’s likely a rare, highly localized toxin that mimics a rapid degenerative seizure." There was a lot of poison like this exposed to the public when the world fell into chaos, so she likened this situation to that, even if she didn’t know the exact nature of the poison. "If you let them keep treating him... I don’t even need to read his future to know he won’t survive the week."