Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

Xavier’s throat hitched, a visible gulp moving down his neck as his eyes locked onto her. He had seen her in sheer nightwears, gowns, sharp suits, and casual clothes, but never like this.

Damp skin glistening under the warm lighting, dark hair clinging softly to her shoulders, wrapped in nothing but a white towel.

And underneath... There was definitely nothing underneath to cover her up if that towel came loose.

Every instinct screamed at him to turn his head, to offer her basic privacy, but his body refused to move. He simply stood there, staring.

​April, trying to ignore the sudden, thick tension in the air, reached for the hair dryer on the counter. "Did Emily make it out alright?" she asked. "I mean, any word from your personal guard—"

​Her foot hit a greasy patch of tile where the oil from her body had dripped off earlier.

​Her balance gave way instantly. "Ah!"

​"April!" Xavier immediately lunged forward to catch her without a second thought.

​He caught her waist, but the slick, greasy floor offered zero traction for his polished shoes. Instead of holding her upright, his feet slipped right out from under him.

​With a muffled gasp, Xavier hit the floor first, and April tumbled directly on top of his chest.

​Silence descended on the room, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing.

​April lay pinned across his chest, her hands pressed flat against his shoulders. Her heart hammered against her ribs in sheer, wild panic—not because of the fall, but because of the towel.

The fabric had loosened during the drop, barely hanging onto her. A single wrong move and it would slip off completely.

​"Are you... hurt?" Xavier asked, his voice strained and unnaturally low.

​"I’m fine," April whispered, her face burning.

She knew Xavier’s feelings for her—she had known them for a long time. She knew she ought to push herself up, to reprimand him or make a dry remark to diffuse the suffocating awkwardness or this would definitely lead to a plot she had not prepared herself for.

​Instead, she remained still. Whether it was still fear of the towel slipping, or something else, she did not know but she simply remained there, on top of him... listening to the raging of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

​Xavier’s hand suddenly lifted, his fingers gently brushing a damp lock of hair away from her cheek.

His dark eyes searched hers, filled with a raw, intense restraint, the kind she was so used to seeing on him. But this time, that restraint seemed to snap right before her eyes. He leaned up, closing the small distance between them, and pressed his lips against hers.

​It was a soft, firm kiss.

​April’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t push him away. It wasn’t aggressive or demanding; it was grounded, warm, and entirely honest.

It’s just a kiss, she rationalized wildly to herself as her heart hammered. A harmless kiss...

And yet, she felt everything needed to be felt from a simple kiss like this. Her heart was racing, her cheeks were burning, and her rationality had reduced by a fraction, all to accommodate the emotions she felt when his lips kept brushing against hers.

​"What the hell is this?!"

​A thunderous, enraged roar suddenly shattered the silence and April flinched.

​The door to the suite had been pushed open, and Nat stood in the doorway, fresh from handling the supervisor down below. His eyes flared with a terrifying, wild crimson as he took in the scene—April, wrapped in a loose towel, lying on top of Xavier on the floor, their lips locked.

​April’s breath caught. "Nat, this is..." The moment Nat’s burning gaze met hers, an overwhelming, bizarre urge surged in her chest—she felt a desperate, inexplicable need to explain herself, to tell him it was an accident, that she had slipped, that nothing was happening... Besides the kiss he just saw.

But it confused her even more.

​Why do I feel like I need to explain this to him? she thought in shock.

They had no specific relationship. Just like Xavier, she viewed him as a client, a supporter, one of her own if anything, but she was never exclusively his like he always claimed.

​"Oh, I see how it is," Nat sneered, his voice dropping into a dangerous, terrifying rumble. He marched across the room in three heavy strides.

​Without waiting for either of them to rise, Nat reached down, grabbing Xavier by his collar and forcefully shoving him back, while simultaneously pulling April up by her waist and wrapping his broad arm securely around her to keep her towel pinned to her chest.

"Can you be any more uncivilized?" Xavier asked, regaining his posture on his feet and looking at Nat with dead eyes.

​"Oh, I can be much worse than this. What was it your little assistant used to call me? Right, a barbarian," Nat growled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he glared down at Xavier, then at April. "Sweetheart, you know I’ve been holding back, right? I stayed patient because I was afraid a simple kiss would scare you off and settled for holding your hand! I thought if I pushed too fast, you’d hate me! So I waited!"

​He tightened his grip on April, his chest heaving with unbridled rage and an unaccounted ache. "And then this... this calm, calculated coward takes the initiative before me?! He does it first?!"

​April blinked, completely stunned by the raw, chaotic outburst. "Nat, wait—"

​"No more waiting," Nat snarled. "I’m done being patient."

​Before April could even process his words, Nat cupped the back of her neck and brought his mouth down hard on hers.

​Where Xavier’s kiss had been gentle and restrained, Nat’s was possessive, fierce, and demanding.

He kissed her deeply, his thumb tracing the jawline of her flushed face, completely ignoring her quiet gasp against his mouth.

April’s hand clutched tightly at the top edge of her towel, her mind spinning as everything spiraled completely out of control.

​"Get your hands off her!" Xavier snapped, scrambling to his feet, his jaw tight as he stepped forward to pull Nat away. "You’re taking advantage of her!"

​Nat finally broke the kiss, stepping back slightly while keeping one arm hooked around April’s waist. He slowly dragged his thumb across his own wet lower lip, a dark, wicked smirk spreading across his face as he looked at Xavier with absolute provocation.

​"Taking advantage?" Nat scoffed, his eyes burning with raw, ruthless arrogance. "Yeah. That’s right. I’m taking advantage of her. Don’t you know who I am? I’m the villain—I don’t need anyone’s permission to take what’s mine."

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