Chapter 96: A loose tongue
They didn’t stop at the gin and tonic.
Seeing that the sharp, acidic sting of the first drink didn’t make her drunk and she claimed it wasn’t exactly to her taste, Nat and Alexander began coordinating a relentless barrage of mixes.
They called for high-end craft cocktails, sweet velvet liqueurs, and heavy vintage wines, attempting to find out exactly what kind of drink would break her composure.
April, now knowing exactly where her limits were, simply drank whatever was placed in front of her. To her, it was quite fun to test it out. And she had no idea what came after being drunk.
She miscalculated, of course.
By the time the clock bled past 1:00 AM, the ever knowing seer was entirely gone. April was profoundly, beautifully drunk. The world around her had detached itself from the terrifying reality, transforming into a warm, floating, gravity-free dream.
Xavier, Nat, and Alexander were heavily buzzed themselves, their cold, arrogant, and nonchalant masks slipping into a rare state of unvarnished, loose relaxation.
The only entirely sane person remaining in the space of the booth was Samuel. Due to the fact that he was still on duty, he had remained strictly sober, his sharp eyes quietly monitoring the area while preparing to drive the sedan back to the mountain ridge.
Nat slouched heavily against the velvet cushions, his body tilting aggressively into April’s personal space as he swirled the last of his amber bourbon.
"Come on, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice thick with a lazy, seductive friction. "The night’s practically over. Give us another reading. Let’s see what else you’re hiding under that pretty hair."
April’s eyes swirled in a slow, hazy orbit. Her mind felt like a cloud drifting through a neon sky. The internal filter that had kept her tongue bound for days entirely dissolved under the weight of the alcohol.
With a sudden, loose movement, she kicked her two-inch black block heels off her feet, letting them clatter uselessly against the marble floor.
Before Samuel could even reach out a hand to assist her, April aggressively scrambled right onto the center of the low polished mahogany table, standing tall above the three multi-billionaires.
She shoved her fingers deep into her styled hair, violently tearing it free from its low bun until the thick, healthy brown strands tumbled wildly over her bare shoulders. She let out a long, heavy, shuddering sigh.
"Are you gonna dance for us, sweetheart?" Nat asked, leaning his elbows on his knees as he looked up at her, thoroughly captivated by the sudden, chaotic spectacle.
April aggressively shook her head, staggering on the slick wood before finally planting her bare soles firmly into the mahogany to find her footing.
"I don’t know how to dance," she drawled, her voice carrying a thick, uncharacteristic lilt. Alexander had been entirely correct—the alcohol was definitely a way to loosen tongues. "In fact... I don’t know how to do anything right besides cleaning, getting screamed at, and getting beaten into the floorboards."
She nodded her head with a vacant, dizzy smirk. The three powerful men below her instantly paused, their drinks freezing mid-air as the ambient temperature in the lounge plunged.
"Yup," April chuckled, a hollow, eerie sound. She bent down loosely and snatched the fresh glass of bourbon straight out of Alexander’s frozen hand. "I can take a leather whip across my spine like it’s a summer breeze. It’s a standard utility."
They all stared up at her, completely paralyzed. Even Samuel stood perfectly still by the edge of the booth, his heart giving a sudden, violent throb as he listened to her speak, watching her lift the heavy bourbon to her lips.
She took a deep, aggressive gulp. The raw alcohol spiked her throat like fire.
"Hm. That is aggressive," she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Very aggressive."
She stumbled a bit but stabled herself again, setting the empty glass down with a heavy rattle, her swirling eyes locking directly onto the red-haired warlord.
"You said... you wanted a reading right, you wild dog?" April purred, a dangerous, unhinged grin breaking across her face under her messy hair. "Well, here it is. I am going to tell you exactly what I see in less than two months. But it is definitely not for free. Consider this insight my official payment for that massive two-billion-dollar fortress you just bought me. Trust me, Mr. Collins... it is worth every single cent." She drawled.
Xavier and Alexander, despite the heavy fog of alcohol in their brains, immediately peered closer, their expressions locking into an intense, breathless focus.
For April to claim an insight was worth two billion dollars meant the data was of a catastrophic, civilization-altering scale.
"In less than two months..." April began, drawing out their anticipation as she swayed slightly on the wood. But then, she suddenly stopped, a bizarre, giggling laugh bubbling up from her throat. "Ah... I feel funny," she said, her vision spinning in a violent, dizzy circle.
She turned aggressively on the table to face Xavier, completely losing her center of gravity in a clumsy, uncoordinated spin. With zero self-preservation left, her body tilted sideways, falling directly off the table.
Xavier’s instincts kicked in instantly. He lunged forward, his massive arms shooting out to catch her before she could hit the edge. The momentum carried them both backward, and April crashed softly right into his chest, the two of them sinking deep into the velvet cushions.
April didn’t scramble away. She simply giggled, her bare feet dangling over the armrest as she lifted her hand, playfully patting Xavier’s handsome cheek with her palm.
"My savior," she whispered, her voice dropping into a soft, hazy murmur that brushed right against his ear. "Thanks for being there that night... I couldn’t have asked for a better first client, Mr. Reed."
Hearing that raw, unguarded confession, Xavier’s grip around her waist tightened by a fraction, his eyes darkening with a heavy, possessive intensity that completely cleared the alcohol from his system.
Her eyelids began to flutter, looking as though she were about to drift into an immediate slumber against his chest.
But just as they thought the show was over, April’s eyes snapped wide open.
She forced herself back up, using Xavier’s broad shoulders for leverage as she scrambled right back onto the mahogany table, sitting cross-legged in her midnight-black satin dress.
"Well, where was I? Ah, yes... the great calamity," she giggled, her voice suddenly dropping into a soft, terrifyingly quiet whisper that effortlessly sliced through the room. "We’re all going to die."
