Chapter 212: I don’t need an Escort

​April’s eyes blinked slowly off the blue light as the interface dissolved, and the crystalline orb dimmed back to plain, polished glass.

​She stared at the doctor. The man truly was a pure, untarnished research freak. He didn’t care about the Le Morenos, the Morgans, or any petty blood debts—he was simply a mad scientist who found her spatial abilities and the end of the world more fascinating than anything else in existence.

Furthermore... Oliver Baxter is an Ally. That’s what the system said.

​"Well?" Nat prompted, resting his chin in his hand with a lazy grin. "Is our resident stalker going to stab us in the back?"

​"No," April said cleanly, resting her hands over the orb and looking directly at Oliver. "No betrayal detected. I read a part of the future where the Le Morenos questions you about why you’re associating with the person who put their precious son in a vegetative state, and you simply played dumb and walked away."

​Oliver’s pen paused mid-sentence. His eyes sharpened slightly behind his glasses, but he didn’t deny it.

​"Furthermore," April continued, her dark eyes locking onto his with an unshakeable, eerie certainty, "you are planning to build a sterile underground bio-bunker beneath your private laboratory. A high-containment vault designed to seal off completely, complete with independent oxygen circulation and specialized containment cells... so you can study zombie mutations in peace while the surface burns."

​Clack.

​Oliver’s pen dropped from his hand onto the table.

​For the first time since he had stepped into the estate, the unbothered, clinical mask on Dr. Oliver Baxter’s face completely shattered.

His jaw tightened, and he pushed his glasses up his nose with a slightly trembling finger, staring at April as if she were a walking impossibility.

​He had literally conceived that underground bunker blueprint at two in the morning, alone in his private study, after returning home from his observation of her the previous day.

He hadn’t drawn a physical schematic. He hadn’t called a single contractor or ordered a single piece of reinforcement steel yet. It existed nowhere in the world except inside his own head.

​Yet she knew the exact layout, purpose, and specs down to the oxygen lines.

​"Incredible..." Oliver breathed out, a rare, genuine spark of awe filling his voice as he looked at her. "Empirical prophecy without external input. You truly read the mind of the future."

​"Dr. Oliver, I see no path where you turn against us," April noted dryly, waving her hand to sweep the crystal orb back into her spatial dimension. "However, keep in mind that I am still watching you. If you cross a line, there won’t be a future bunker for you to hide in."

​Oliver bowed his head slightly, a subtle, highly satisfied glint returning to his eyes. "As long as you permit me to observe your continuous spatial anomalies and the progression of your unique abilities, Miss April, I have zero logical reason to ever turn my back on you. You are, by far, the most fascinating subject on this planet."

​Nat scoffed, shaking his head. "Weirdo."

​With Oliver’s loyalty cleared and the trap for the Morgans and Le Morenos fully assigned, April stood up from the head of the dining table.

​"Now that we’ve settled that," April said, her voice turning crisp and purposeful, "get everything ready for tomorrow night’s party. I’m going to take Emily to see Beatrice’s body and finalize the funeral details."

​Xavier rose to his feet alongside the other men. "Samuel will have the motorcade and full armed escort waiting at the front gates. Take all the time you need, April."

"I don’t need an escort," April said. "Just Samuel will do."

​"And me," Nat said, but she shook her head firmly.

​"You should go over your work allocations again to hasten the pace of your shelter construction," April instructed, her dark eyes steady. "As well as assigning men to dig up dirt on the families. Xavier alone won’t be enough, since there could be things only those from the underworld could pick up."

​"Heh, I’m glad you see my value, but I still want to go with you," Nat drawled, lifting his phone and swaying it slightly between his fingers. "There’s nothing this baby can’t do. I’ll just call them and carry out the order. Piece of cake."

​April sighed, her brows twitching. Seriously?

​"Besides," he dropped the phone onto the table and leaned his massive frame forward, a dangerous, flirtatious glint flashing in his eyes, "this might be my only chance to visit my mother-in-law."

​The entire dining table immediately went dead silent.

​April pressed two fingers against her forehead, dragging them down until she was pinching the bridge of her nose, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

​"What mother-in-law?!" Alexander was the first to react, slamming his hands onto the polished mahogany table as he glared across at Nat. "You’re not married to April, so stop claiming spots!"

​"Come on, I’ve proposed a couple of times," Nat’s eyes flashed playfully toward April. "It’s only a matter of time before she accepts."

​"Do not assume," Xavier added, his deep voice dropping an octave, clearly displeased by Nat so casually claiming April as his own. "April has already made her intentions clear and rejected you over and over. I commend you for still trying, but do not simply assume that her mother is your mother-in-law."

​"Ooh, scary," Nat purred mockingly, resting his chin on his palm. "What? Are you mad cause I beat you to it? Wanna try calling her mother your mother-in-law as well? Oh, that’s right... you don’t have the spine."

​Nat cackled deeply, thoroughly enjoying the rise he was getting out of them. Underneath the table, Xavier’s hand clenched into a tight, white-knuckled fist.

​"Unlike you, who lacks basic consideration, I value April’s boundaries and would never make her uncomfortable," Xavier stated coldly.

​"Come on, where do you think the saying ’take the bull by its horns’ came from?" Nat grinned, his broad shoulders shaking with dark amusement. "You’re going to end up at the very bottom if you don’t pick up the pace and at least try to win her over. But I guess that’s fine too since it leaves less competition for me to compete with."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Xavier replied, his tone remaining clipped, even as his dark gaze stayed fixed on the syndicate leader.

​"Oh, please. Don’t play dumb with me, Reed," Nat drawled, resting both elbows on the mahogany surface and steepling his fingers. "I can already tell who my competitors are in this room. And frankly..." Nat’s eyes flicked sideways toward the corner of the table, "...there’s even a brand-new nuisance who just came to join the queue."

​Dr. Oliver Baxter didn’t even pause his pen. Without lifting his head from his scribbles, he casually pushed his glasses up his nose with one finger. "Don’t mind me. I am merely documenting territorial posturing and mate-selection behaviors among apex males. Please continue."

"See? Unbearable," Nat scoffed, shaking his head before turning his attention right back to Xavier. "You can’t deny it," he continued, his low voice dripping with provocative amusement. "I see the way you look at her when she isn’t paying attention, Reed. The way you double-check every single detail when it regards her, the way your jaw tightens whenever anyone else steps too close. Ah, and let’s not even talk about that night you were glaring at me like you’d drop a mountain on my head." He laughed. "You’re completely wrapped around her finger."

​Xavier’s face remained stiff like a stone, his expression unreadable. "I am simply taking proper care of our business partner. My concern is purely practical."

​"Riiight~ Practical," Nat drawled, rolling his tongue at that last part, his eyes gleefully shifting across the table to land on Alexander. "And what about you, Greels? You’ve been awfully quiet. Don’t tell me you’re going to sit there and pretend you’re just here for ’gratitude’ and driving lessons?"

​Alexander froze mid-sip, nearly choking on his morning water. He set the glass down a little too quickly, coughing lightly into his fist. "I—what? April and I are good friends and business associates. We work well together. That’s all."

​Despite his calm words, a telltale, deep crimson flush crept rapidly up the tips of Alexander’s ears, spreading down his neck. He recalled how he had been so bold as to kiss the top of her head. That must stay within his heart.

​Nat cackled deeply, a wild, sharp sound that echoed through the vast dining room. "Yeah, that’s right! Keep acting dumb, both of you! But you can’t hide it no matter how hard you try to cover it up. Just like me, you two like—"

​"Ahem." Samuel cleared his throat loudly. "I apologize for interrupting, but while you two were talking, Miss April already left the meeting."

All three men whipped their heads toward the head of the dining table—which was now completely empty.

​April had silently vacated her seat and walked straight out of the hall, heading back upstairs.

The conversation had devolved into an embarrassing, ridiculous squabble so fast that she hadn’t wanted to waste another second listening to them. And thankfully, she hadn’t been there to hear Nat oust both Alexander and Xavier... not like she wasn’t already aware of their feelings.

But being aware was one thing. Being forced to sit through the public execution of that awareness was something else.

​Left behind in the heavy silence, Alexander shook his head in disbelief, while Dr. Oliver Baxter dutifully noted down: Subject demonstrates high evasion behavior when presented with primitive territorial displays. Interesting.

​Upstairs, April opened the door to her room, where Emily was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed and adjusting a black jacket over her body.

​"Are you ready?" April asked softly, her cold demeanor instantly smoothing out. "Samuel is waiting downstairs. Let’s go see Beatrice."