Chapter 6
I arrived at Lawson Group wearing plain temple robes.
Years of incense, prayer, and discipline had given me a stillness people could feel before I ever said a word. My face, my silence, the strange contrast of a young woman in simple gray robes standing beneath a wall of glass and steel—it drew attention almost instantly.
Someone filmed me. Then someone else did.
Within hours, clips of “the temple girl” standing outside Lawson Group were spreading across social media. Rich kids, influencers, curious executives, and bored socialites all started showing up to see me in person.
I ignored them all.
I said nothing.
Then Lucas Lawson walked past me.
The moment he came within reach, I looked at him and spoke for the first time that day.
“Sir,” I said calmly, “your forehead is shadowed. Before long, blood will touch your brow.”
The crowd around us gasped.
“The temple girl spoke!”
“Ask her about me too!”
Lucas stopped, clearly amused, though I saw a flicker of interest in his eyes. “Oh? And what kind of disaster am I supposed to have?”
I met his gaze. “Before this banquet ends, your head will bleed.”
The young men around him laughed and crowded closer.
“Mr. Lawson, don’t leave. Let’s see if she’s for real.”
Lucas smiled like a man indulging a magic trick. “Fine. I’ll stay. Let’s find out whether her prediction means anything.”
A few hours later, as he stepped off the curb outside the building, a cyclist came tearing around the corner too fast to stop. Lucas jerked back just in time, but the metal delivery rack clipped his forehead.
Blood ran down his temple.
The crowd stared at me as though I had cracked the sky open with my voice.
By that evening, Lucas himself had arranged a private dinner and personally invited me to attend.