Chapter 163: I Have Hands
April blinked as the cool air hit her bare skin. She didn’t look away from him, though her expression remained flat. "I was perfectly fine with the mask on, Nat."
"Maybe you were, but I wasn’t," he retorted easily, slipping her mask into his deep coat pocket as they began walking ahead. "Come on. We’re not calling it a night just yet."
This again? He liked to always look for a Y route whenever they were out.
"I have a schedule to maintain," April noted, though she didn’t step away as he unlocked the G-Wagon.
"You mean going back to your bed, gaming, and then sleeping? I bet that schedule can spare thirty minutes, sweetheart," Nat said, opening the passenger door for her with a lazy, mocking bow. "Besides, you just raked in twenty-three billion. A proper boss celebrates a harvest like that. Follow me, I know a spot around here that has the best snacks in this entire dark network."
April hesitated for a fraction of a second before climbing in. Her body was indeed slightly drained from the sheer adrenaline of the bidding war, and the prospect of a great snack was always a variable she was willing to accommodate.
Nat drove them to a different, highly exclusive sector of the underground facility—an upscale, dimly lit lounge styled like a classic Parisian bistro, hidden completely behind a heavy, soundproof brass door. The patrons here were few, mostly high-ranking syndicate heads and foreign brokers speaking in low, quiet murmurs so they didn’t have to worry about anyone worrying them.
They took a secluded corner booth. Within minutes, a waiter silently served a plate of freshly made, golden-brown Belgian waffles, piled high with fresh berries and a mountain of thick, hand-whipped sweet cream.
April picked up her fork, her eyes instantly locking onto the dessert. She took a bite, the crisp, buttery texture of the waffle and the rich, cold cream immediately triggering a quiet, satisfied hum in the back of her throat.
Nat didn’t order anything for himself. He simply leaned back against the dark leather booth, his long arms draped over the back of the seat, watching her eat. His eyes held that familiar look of deep interest—the intense, heavy gaze he always directed at her when she was entirely focused on her own world.
"How’s the dog doing?" Nat asked suddenly, his voice low and raspy in the quiet booth. "Rufus,"
"He’s fine," April said between bites, her voice entirely casual. "He’s growing very quickly. His appetite is nearly as large as his size now."
"Good. Tell him if he ever gets tired of his master’s quiet house, he can come guard my docks," Nat chuckled. "And that little furball? Cats and dogs don’t get along if not raised together from the start, so they might fight a lot."
"Ah," April darted her eyes away in exhaustion. "You have no idea." She muttered.
If only someone had prepared her for the knowledge of it, she would’ve at least prepared her heart for their hissing and growling battles. It’s been reduced as of late, but Lily doesn’t even want to be near Rufus, like she doesn’t want to even breathe the same air as him.
And as for Rufus, he’s been keeping a close eye on his rival and waiting for the right moment she would lose favor in April’s sight and he could snap her neck. So very dramatic.
All things aside, they seem to be doing their jobs as mythical creatures well.
Ever since she got Rufus, only good things have been happening. And maybe or maybe not there may have been bad energy lurking around her but she could never know since that’s Lily’s job to take care of.
She eats bad luck just by being in the area.
One goes good luck and the other eats bad luck for breakfast. She could even create friction just so she could have enough bad luck to eat, this countering Rufus’ naturally good luck energy.
It’s no surprise that they’re always at each other’s neck. They don’t just contradict each other as species but as mythical beings as well.
April took another bite of the waffle, entirely focused on the flavor now. But as she pulled the fork away, a tiny, stray dollop of the thick whipped cream lingered right on the corner of her upper lip.
Before she could reach for a napkin, Nat immediately seized the opportunity and leaned forward across the small table. His movement was incredibly swift, his hand reaching out toward her face.
April paused, her fork hovering in mid-air. She didn’t flinch, but her eyes narrowed slightly as his thumb brushed firmly against her lips, wiping the stray cream away with a warm, gentle sweep of his skin.
She immediately looked away, her posture stiffening slightly. "I have hands, Nat. I can clean my own face."
She didn’t see the dark, slow grin that spread across his lips as he pulled his hand back. Nat lazily licked the sweet cream off his thumb, his eyes locked on her profile.
"Tasty," he murmured, his voice deep and thoroughly amused by her sudden avoidance.
April actively chose to ignore the gesture, returning her focus to the remaining portion of her waffle.
"So," Nat began, shifting his weight as he tapped his fingers against the polished wood of the table. "Do you still plan to set up that little fortune-telling gig of yours? If you’re still up for it, I’ve already secured the best spot for you in the upper market. Heavy foot traffic, but completely guarded by my men."
April set her fork down, her mind shifting into a highly analytical gear.
She had been thinking about the fortune-telling stall for a while now. She desperately wanted to increase the proficiency of her Eye of Destiny skill to level three before the apocalypse officially commenced for some reason, and the only way to do that was through active, consistent practice on real targets.
She nodded slowly. "Yes. I still plan to do it."
"With the kind of money your miracle water is making, sweetheart, you don’t even need to charge these fools," Nat pointed out. "Why bother?"
"Since the water is making such great sales, I don’t think I will charge too high for the reading," April said flatly, her eyes drifting toward the dim lighting of the lounge. "This time, it’s not for profit. So, I will keep the price accessible."
Nat raised an eyebrow at her, slightly confused. "Not for profit? Then what are you doing this for, sweetheart?"
She had a plan.