He first heard that rumor at a charity party he had been invited to by an acquaintance.
“What? A sorcerer?”
Grayson, who had been killing time making meaningless small talk with other guests, frowned instinctively at the words. The man who had brought it up chuckled as he sipped a glass of wine mixed with a strong dose of something more intoxicating.
“Yeah, apparently a fortune teller was invited to Hayden’s party. It was pretty entertaining. They were surprisingly accurate too—everyone was ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) amazed.”
“Oh, sure.”
Grayson listened with a bored expression, taking another sip of his wine. Fortune-telling? Believing in such superstitions was ridiculous.
...Not that he could say that with any sincerity.
In truth, he had sought out more fortune tellers and sorcerers than he could count—easily ten times more than the average person would meet in a lifetime. And he had always asked them the same question: Where is my destined partner?
He had heard countless prophecies and paid an obscene price for them, but the results had been the same every time. The one? Every time he thought he had finally found them, it turned out he was wrong. Again and again, he had gone through the same cycle until he no longer blindly believed in what these so-called seers had to say.
That was why, even now, when he heard about a new fortune teller, he didn’t waver so easily. He listened with mild interest but remained unimpressed.
Seeing Grayson’s indifference, the man scratched his head awkwardly and added, “It was just for fun. Though, they did give Keith some ridiculous prophecy, and he got pissed.”
“Keith? What kind of prophecy?”
Hearing an unexpected name, Grayson raised an eyebrow. The man shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“Said he’d be facing a great hardship soon. That if he wasn’t careful, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.”
“What, is he going to lose his company or something?”
Another man nearby snickered, jokingly throwing out the worst-case scenario. The others laughed too, clearly entertained by the absurdity of the idea. Keith going bankrupt? The world would probably end first. Grayson wasn’t the only one who thought so.
The first man continued, “Who knows? The fortune teller said he’d lose something more important than money. But before they could say what, Keith stormed off in a rage.”
“He’s got such a short temper.”
“Honestly, if someone told me that, I’d have left too.”
“Yeah, bad predictions only ruin the mood.”
A chorus of agreement followed, and soon, the conversation shifted to other topics.
Grayson absentmindedly sipped his wine, mulling it over.
Keith, once as much of a womanizer as Grayson himself, had chosen to settle down years ago—a decision no one had seen coming. Yet, after getting married, he had never once strayed. The reality of it was still hard to believe for many. If there was something precious enough to make Keith react so strongly, it could only be Yeonwoo. Or perhaps his two beloved children.
A scam artist.
That was the only conclusion Grayson needed. The idea of Yeonwoo leaving Keith was laughable. And as for those two little chicks who barely did anything but chirp? That went without saying.
Keith had found his soulmate—the one thing Grayson had been desperately chasing for so long.
And he had found them first.
If there was such a thing as divine will, then God must be an unbelievably biased son of a bitch.
Keith had always laughed at Grayson’s obsession with finding the one, yet in the end, he was the one who had stumbled upon his partner effortlessly.
Grayson scowled as he thought about it. That bastard had never even had a single fortune read for him.
And now, some fortune teller had dared to predict something ominous for Keith? The fact that they’d made it out of that encounter unscathed was nothing short of a miracle. Whoever they were, they had used up a lifetime’s worth of luck in that moment.
Since Hayden had invited them, they were probably somewhat credible.
But then again, it wasn’t easy to weed out con artists.
That was all the thought Grayson gave to the new fortune teller. He quickly moved on, engaging in other frivolous conversations.
And just like that, the topic of the mysterious fortune teller was nearly forgotten.
Until, a month later, Grayson’s attitude completely changed.
He urgently contacted Hayden, demanding the fortune teller’s contact information.
Because he had just learned that Keith’s so-called bad omen had come true exactly as predicted.
And Keith was in serious trouble.
****
“Hmm...”
With a deeply serious expression, the middle-aged woman stared at the cards spread out on the table.
Grayson sat across from her, his arms crossed and his face twisted into a scowl.
It had been a while, yet she remained silent.
Why is it taking so long? Is she hesitating?
Or does she not know how to read the damn cards?
As his distrust grew, his narrowed eyes filled with suspicion. Just as his patience was about to snap, the fortune teller finally straightened her back.
“This is... difficult.”
Grayson locked eyes with her, his gaze piercing. The woman kept her attention fixed on the cards, as if avoiding his stare or deliberately ignoring it.
“Your destined partner... is difficult. Very difficult.”
“So?”
“Are you saying they don’t exist?”
Grayson couldn’t hold back his irritation. The fortune teller blinked at his sharp tone, then hurriedly cleared her throat.
“I didn’t say that. But I also can’t say for certain that they do.”
“You think I came all this way for some wordplay?”
Grayson’s voice was eerily calm, his lips curling into a smile. But the fortune teller could easily tell—his mood was anything but pleasant.
He was practically radiating fury.
“Of course not.”
Years of experience had taught her to plaster on a smile and defuse situations quickly.
“You’ve worked hard to find them. But you couldn’t, because the time wasn’t right.”
“So?”
Grayson pressed her impatiently.
“When will the time be right? Is it still far off? How much longer do I have to wait? Or are you telling me it’s a goddamn undertaker? That I have to die before I meet them? Huh?”
“Now, now, calm down.”
The fortune teller lifted a hand as if to pacify a rabid dog. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she spoke.
“It won’t be long. You’ll meet them soon. Perhaps you’ve already crossed paths with them.”
“They were right in front of me, and I didn’t notice?”
Doubt flared in Grayson’s eyes, but before he could argue, the fortune teller added,
“Not necessarily directly. The world is full of fleeting connections. In Buddhism, there’s a saying: Even brushing sleeves can be fate.”
Grayson frowned, watching her closely. Slowly, he leaned back, crossing his arms—a clear sign that his patience was wearing thin.
“So,” he drawled, stretching the word out.
“How do I find them?”
The fortune teller picked up a card from the deck and placed it on the table.
Grayson looked at it as she spoke.
“Fire.”
“Fire?”
He frowned, repeating the word. The woman nodded.
“Helping others. And fire.”
“A firefighter?”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps not.”
She backtracked yet again.
“If you dedicate yourself to helping others, you will meet them. Either way, fire is the key.”
Grayson kept frowning, as if debating how much of this nonsense he should believe.
“Anything else?”
She drew another card, checked it, then replied,
“They may be a woman. Or a man.”
“Of course.”
Grayson scoffed, rolling his eyes. Then he paused, narrowing his gaze.
“What about their chest?”
“...Excuse me?”
Caught off guard, the fortune teller blinked.
Grayson repeated, “Big? Small? None at all? You can see that in the cards, right? So? The chest?”
“Uh... um... It’s... big.”
After flipping over another card, she finally answered.
Grayson smirked in satisfaction.
“A woman, then.”
The fortune teller was stunned for a moment before frowning in confusion.
If that was the case, then why hadn’t the gender shown up clearly in the first fortune telling?