Today, Sarah had dressed quite simply; with Old Mr. Smith on his last legs, she didn’t want to wear anything too flashy. She chose a new light blue top with black long skirts, and her golden hair was tied up, giving her an unexpectedly ethereal vibe.
Seeing her curiosity, the fortune teller guessed she wasn’t part of the Smith family. This fortune teller wasn’t local; Nicola had desperately sought help and paid a hefty sum to bring him in through a recommendation.
He hadn’t expected such a lucrative job offer. Upon arrival, he found himself surrounded by various types of monks and witches, and he wondered if Old Mrs. Smith was worried about their conflicting beliefs clashing.
With medicine and equipment failing to help, Nicola was resorting to these superstitions.
The fortune teller looked at Sarah, taking in her simple attire and elegant appearance, mistaking her for someone in the same line of work.
He lowered his voice. “Sixty thousand for a reading. How about you?”
Sarah replied, “I’m here for a fortune reading. How much do you charge for your services?”
The fortune teller was momentarily taken aback. “Uh…”
Sarah completely missed the irony that a fortune teller who couldn’t even determine her status wasn’t exactly a skilled master. She just assumed these experts serving the rich must have some incredible abilities-maybe they could even summon rain to cause a flood in City N.
He was not local, and was probably only introduced because of his connections. It was his first time encountering actress like Sarah.
“One reading costs ten thousand,” he said.
Sarah frowned. “One thousand.”
He was shocked at her haggling. Who negotiates prices for a fortune telling? But since he had been sidelined by the local monks and witches recently and was worried about getting that sixty thousand, he figured any money was better than none.
“Fine, a thousand it is. Come on, I have a card reader.”
Sarah asked, intrigued, “Can I become rich and famous?”
No matter how love-struck she was, when it came to questions about her future, she had to know if wealth was in the cards for her.
The fortune teller sighed, “Girl, that’s not really how it works. Not everyone is destined to get rich. Most people live pretty ordinary lives.”
He had never seen a wealthy person haggle their way down to a tenth of the price for a reading.
Sarah’s smile froze.
The fortune teller felt her face drain of color, almost like she was about to punch him in frustration. He quickly tried to sEvege the situation. “But you’re very pretty! You’ve got a great nose and beautiful eyes-you’re bound to marry someone rich!”
Sarah wasn’t ready to give up. After all, she had just spent a thousand bucks for this reading.
“Then let me ask about my love life,” she said.
The fortune teller smugly lifted his card reader. “Another thousand.”
After swiping her card, Sarah pointed toward Holden, who was walking over from a distance. “What do you think? Do you think he’ll fall madly in love with me?”
The fortune teller squinted at Holden. That young man was seriously good-looking, and they did seem like a perfect match. Just as he was about to offer some flattering words, he noticed something strange-a middle-aged man Nicola had treated with great respect the day before was now nodding and bowing to that young man.
That’s when it hit him: this guy must be Holden, the rumored heir to the Smith family. The one with a reputation for being disciplined, uninterested in romance, and emotionally cold.
“Not very likely,” the fortune teller muttered, adjusting his sunglasses. “I can tell at a glance-that’s Holden Smith, the young master of the Smith family. On the surface, he seems gentle, but inside, he’s cold and indifferent. He has wealth and power beyond measure, but emotionally? He’ll lead a lonely life. And you, well… you’re beautiful and attract plenty of admirers-at least ten men have probably been in love with you. But you and him? No real connection.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
The fortune teller puffed up with pride. “I’m from C country. Mrs. Smith begged me to come ten times before I agreed. Back home, I charge ten thousand per session.”
At that moment, Holden reached Sarah’s side. In front of the guests, he kept up appearances, standing with a graceful demeanor next to her. “Uncle Baron, this is my wife, Sarah.”
Sarah smiled sweetly. “Hello, Uncle Baron.”
The older man grinned so hard his eyes turned into slits. “Hello, hello!”
The fortune teller stood frozen.
Well, damn. He wished he could pry Uncle Baron’s squinted eyes open, toss them on the ground, and dive right in himself.
The fortune teller had been enjoying good food and hospitality for days at the Smith family’s private hospital, playing mind games with the monks and witches. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to run into the wife of the very man he had been talking about.
Why didn’t you say you were Mrs. Holden from the start? If he’d known, he would’ve sung her praises to the heavens and back, calling her a goddess incarnate.
But what really caught him off guard was that Sarah actually believed every word he said.
In Sarah’s mind, it all made sense. The whole “not destined to get rich” thing? That seemed true-she’d never made any big money in real life. And ever since meeting Holden, a man who threw money around like it was nothing, her standards had gone up. Now, she thought real wealth started in the billions, and either you were born into it or you’d never have it.
The part about marrying rich? Also, spot on-Holden was literally the wealthy husband who paid her a generous monthly salary.
And as for Holden’s personality? The description fit him perfectly.
Even the bit about the ten admirers was true. Heck, there were probably at least ten girls who had crushed on Sarah over the years. From kindergarten on, she’d been surrounded by kids who adored her. She knew she had an irresistibly cute look, and she was confident in her charm.
Once Uncle Baron left, Holden turned to her. “What were you talking about with the guy in sunglasses?”
Sarah replied earnestly, “He’s a master-really good at fortune-telling. He doesn’t even need birth dates to get everything right.”
Holden wasn’t the type to believe in superstitions. He was a firm materialist. But since Nicola had invited these people, and some of them were said to have genuine abilities, he didn’t dismiss them outright.
A couple of years ago, a wealthy old man in their social circle had been on the verge of death. His children couldn’t bear to let him go, so they hired a master who performed rituals and even moved the family’s ancestral grave. Whether it was coincidence or skill, the old man miraculously pulled through.
Nicola had been going all out to keep Old Mr. Smith alive for a bit longer, sparing no expense. Lately, she’d been pulling all kinds of sneaky moves, even hiring hitmen from overseas to target Holden. But Holden’s security team wasn’t to be messed with, and not only did her plans fail, she ended up taking some heavy losses.
Holden glanced at Sarah. “So, what did you ask him for?”
Sarah gave him a suspicious look. “Why do you care?”
Holden sneered. He knew exactly what was going on-Sarah, with her silly, love-struck brain, must’ve been asking the fortune teller about getting back together with Ronald. Always keeping her options open, huh? He should’ve never brought her here.
Sarah coughed awkwardly. “Well, um… I was asking when I’d make it big, you know, become super famous. Like, walk out my front door and have a thousand fans waiting for me.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Holden said dryly, “but it’s not going to happen-where we live, outsiders aren’t allowed.”
Sarah sighed. “I knew it! The master predicted that, too. But hey, that’s fine. There’s still another way-Mr. Holden, if you decide to drop a few billion on me, I could become a superstar in no time.”
As they turned a corner, Holden suddenly pinned her against the wall. “So you want me to back you that badly, huh? What are you willing to give in return?”
Sarah blinked, confused. “Huh?”
Holden ran his thumb along the corner of her flushed lips. “You think you can get a sponsor without offering anything in return? You really believe life works that way?”
Sarah was speechless. She knew better, of course.
She was just joking around.
Is making jokes a crime now?
Even if Holden really did throw billions at her to land lead roles in major films, she wouldn’t agree to it. If all those movies flopped, she’d be humiliated for life. And after that, she’d probably spend the rest of her days paying Holden back-always at his beck and call, warming his bed whenever he wanted.
Anyway, she wasn’t exactly broke right now. She could take things slow, moving from minor roles to leading ones at her own pace.
Holden leaned in and kissed her.
Since she wasn’t wearing heels today, the kiss was a bit tricky. She stood on her tiptoes, and Holden wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her up until they were eye to eye.
The kiss left Sarah breathless, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes slightly misty.
Holden couldn’t help but want to ask her which was better-him or Ronald. But unfortunately for him, she and Ronald had never gone that far.
Not that it was really unfortunate, Holden thought. If Ronald had touched her, Holden’s vengeful nature would’ve made sure Ronald not only died a horrible death, but that his family’s ancestral graves were scattered to the wind.
Right then, Samuel came strolling by at the worst possible moment. He froze in place when he saw Holden-this walking disaster-actually kissing a woman.
Samuel’s face turned as green as if he’d just seen a mule fly through the sky.