Reborn Before The Apocalypse: The Last Safe Hotel

Chapter 003 – The First Step

*****

Ronan had exactly $1,200 in his bank account.

It was everything he had managed to save after years of working himself to exhaustion.

Most of his salary disappeared into the Frost family's groceries, electricity bills, and household expenses. By the end of each month, he barely had enough left to feed himself.

Yet none of the Frosts had ever appreciated him. To them, he was a poor, useless man who had married above his station.

The worst part was that even this $1,200 had never truly been meant for him.

It was meant to buy Celeste's birthday present the coming week.

A bitter smile crossed his face. In his previous life, she hadn't even looked at the gift before tossing it aside while her family mocked him for being cheap.

Back then, he had endured their ridicule in silence.

Now, remembering it only made him feel like a fool.

Never again.

Ronan left the bank and pulled out his phone.

He searched for the nearest betting shops before choosing the smallest one in the area. He didn't want unnecessary attention.

When he arrived, however, he was stunned by the crowd.

It was barely seven in the morning, yet the shop was packed.

Men and women of all ages crowded around the counters, shouting their selections and pushing money toward the attendants.

The reason wasn't difficult to figure out. The Premier League season was beginning that day.

For ordinary people, the Premier League was another chance to get lucky. But for Ronan, it was his first opportunity to cash in on knowledge no one else possessed.

He approached the counter and studied the enormous screen displaying the day's matches and odds.

‘This is where it begins.’

Ronan calmly selected his matches, choosing outcomes that made little sense to anyone who didn't possess his knowledge.

At first, nobody paid him much attention.

Then one of the gamblers glanced at his selections and frowned. "You're betting on that?"

Ronan ignored him.

Another man leaned over to look at the screen. "Those odds are ridiculous."

"He's definitely new to betting," someone scoffed. "Anyone who knows what he's doing wouldn't pick those."

A few gamblers laughed.

One of the older men shook his head sympathetically. "Young man, don't throw your money away. At least use common sense before betting."

Ronan didn't even look at them.

He continued adding selections until the combined odds reached exactly 2,000. Then he reached into his wallet and counted out $600. "Place it."

The chatter around him died.

Even the attendant stared at the money before looking at Ronan.

"Six hundred dollars?" He asked in disbelief.

Ronan nodded.

The attendant hesitated. "You understand that if even one of these selections loses, you'll lose the entire stake, right?"

"I understand."

"You should reconsider."

"I don't need to."

The attendant sighed, then accepted the money. He had seen countless people ruin themselves chasing impossible odds.

Moments later, the betting slip slid across the counter as the surrounding gamblers watched Ronan with pity.

However, he just took the slip and walked away.

Outside, Ronan checked every selection one final time before looking at the potential payout.

$1.44 million.

In his previous life, that figure would have left him sleepless and driven him insane with excitement.

Now, it barely stirred Ronan.

Money alone wouldn’t buy warmth, a single loaf of stale bread, a drop of water, or survival in the apocalypse.

But it could buy him a future before it began.

Ronan flagged down another taxi and headed for a betting shop across town, where he repeated the process with five hundred dollars from his remaining six hundred.

When he stepped back onto the street, his total projected winnings had climbed past three million dollars.

This was only the beginning.

Ronan tucked the betting slip into his pocket.

"Still not enough."

He needed far more than three million dollars to build the Haven.

Fortunately, the Premier League had only just begun. And betting was only one of the advantages his second life had given him.

By the time he finished, it was already past two in the afternoon.

Ronan checked his phone. ‘She should be awake by now.’

"Time to finalize the divorce,” he murmured, his eyes turning cold.

…..

The Frost family villa stood on Southbridge Avenue, a comfortable middle-class community, large enough to show the Frosts lived far better than ordinary people.

The moment Ronan stepped out of the taxi, his gaze landed on a bright-red BMW parked outside.

His expression immediately hardened.

The car belonged to Varek Riven… the man the Frosts had always wanted Celeste to marry.

Whenever he visited, they compared Ronan to him and reminded Ronan that he wasn't even worthy of licking his shoes.

Back then, seeing that car was enough to fill him with dread.

Most of the time, he turned around and left without entering the house, while other times, he lowered his head and endured every insult thrown at him.

Each visit had chipped away at his pride until almost nothing remained.

Now...

It only reminded him of the man who had tortured him, shattered his limbs, and watched him die with a smile.

Without realizing it, his fists tightened until his knuckles turned white.

For several seconds, Ronan nearly lost his mind. But then he inhaled deeply.

‘Not yet. Killing him now would be too easy on me.'

He forced the murderous intent back down and walked toward the villa.

Even before opening the door, he heard happy laughter from inside, belonging to Joren, Helena, and Varek.

Ronan didn't need to ask why. They were celebrating his divorce from Celeste.

A cold smile touched his lips, then he pushed the door open.

"Look who finally decided to come back." Joren's mocking voice greeted him immediately.

"What a failure," Helena added with disgust. "Men your age are busy building their futures, while you waste your life wandering around without aim or direction."

Varek remained silent.

He wore the same gentlemanly smile he had always used, but his eyes betrayed him. Disgust, irritation, and contempt filled them as he looked at Ronan.

It was the gaze of someone who believed a servant had dared to stand in the same room as him.

Ronan didn't react. He glanced briefly at the three of them before heading toward the staircase.

"Where do you think you're going?" Joren snapped.

Ronan ignored him, which only made Joren even angrier.

Helena suddenly spoke. "Didn't you accuse me of exaggerating when I told you he nearly hit me this morning?"

Joren froze.

He turned toward her. "Wait. You were serious?"

"Have I ever joked about something like that?"

Joren's expression changed instantly. He shot to his feet.

"You bastard!" His face reddened with fury. "You actually dared to raise your hand against my wife?"

Varek immediately stood and placed a hand on Joren's shoulder.

"Uncle, calm down." His voice was gentle. "Perhaps he was simply in a bad mood this morning. I'm sure he didn't mean to disrespect Auntie."

The words sounded like a defense.

In reality, Varek knew exactly what he was doing. His words instantly fanned Joren's flame of anger.

Joren shoved Varek's hand away and stormed aggressively toward Ronan.

His hand rose.

In the past, Ronan would have lowered his head and accepted the slap. But now…

His eyes flashed coldly as he prepared to catch the incoming hand. Just then, however, a calm voice came from the staircase.

"What is all this commotion?"

Everyone stopped.

Joren and Helena immediately turned toward the staircase. "Daughter."

Even Varek's expression softened into a warm smile, his eyes brimming with affection.

Ronan looked over.

Celeste was walking down the stairs, dressed elegantly as though she had somewhere important to be.

She glanced at everyone before her eyes settled emotionlessly on Ronan. "What happened?"

Joren immediately pointed a trembling finger at him. "That bastard tried to hit your mother this morning!"

Celeste frowned slightly. She had been there that morning.

She hadn't seen Ronan try to hit Helena.

But she said nothing.

"Keep your voices down," she said calmly. "We're not the only people in this community."

She reached the final step and looked at Ronan. "Varek and I are going to a friend's birthday party."

In the past, those words would have enraged him.

He would have demanded to know why his wife was always attending a party with another man.

In return, Celeste would have accused him of being jealous and unreasonable while Varek played the innocent victim.

But this time... Ronan didn't react at all.

Celeste's brows furrowed even deeper.

For the second time since they were married, the man standing before her felt like a complete stranger.

The first time had been earlier that very morning.

She stared at him for another moment before turning toward the door.

"Wait." Ronan's voice stopped her.

Celeste's expression immediately tightened.

‘So he was pretending,’ she thought, believing that Ronan was about to start another argument.

Instead, Ronan looked directly at her.

"What about the divorce?"

Celeste froze.

Ronan looked at her with the same indifference she had shown him for three years.

"City Hall closes at five. Let's not waste any more of each other's time."