61Jake clenched his fists, visibly seething. “You’ve got a big mouth for someone who’s about to get kicked to the curb. Just wait. I’d give it a week before you’re begging for your job back.”“Begging? Oh, I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself like that,” Allvar said, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. “I prefer to maintain a level of dignity, unlike some of us here.”“Dignity?” Edgar scoffed, crossing his arms tightly. “Is that what you call stepping on Marcus Vale's back to climb up the ladder? I guess you learned a lot about ambition, didn’t you? It must be nice to get promoted after a week while the rest of us have been grinding for years.”They were still struggling to swallow the bitter truth: just a week after Allvar’s admission into the company, he had already secured a seat on the board, a position that had taken even the luckiest among them at least five years to attain. To make matters worse, their former colleague and friend, Marcus Vale, had been fired, and the i

63Dean cut him off with a chuckle, dripping with smug satisfaction. "Now, now. Let’s keep this civil. I told you there’d be a little favor in exchange, didn’t I?"Derek’s jaw tightened as his teeth ground together. "You’re a manipulative bastard, Dean," he growled, voice low and dangerous. "You’ve been playing me from the start.""Playing?" Dean’s laugh echoed through the phone, calm and infuriatingly smooth. "Derek, this is *business*. Games are for children, and frankly, I thought you knew better.""You think screwing me over is business?" Derek’s voice shot up, filled with venom. "You think stringing me along is just part of the job?"Dean hummed as if amused by Derek’s outrage. "Come on, Derek. You can’t seriously be surprised. This is how the game is played. You, of all people, should know that by now."Derek’s pulse pounded in his ears, his rage bubbling over. "You think this is a game? You 'used' me! You’re going to pay for this."Dean’s laugh grated on Derek’s last nerve. "I

65Allvar stepped into 'La Maison Élégance', feeling the stares hit him like a wave. He had never cared much about formalities, but the tension in the air made it impossible to ignore. His t-shirt and jeans suddenly felt too casual, too plain, for a place where even the chandeliers seemed to judge him. The murmurs started almost immediately, and his heart raced as he made his way toward the front desk.“Is that the guy with the Ferrari?” A woman’s whisper barely reached his ears, but the sharp tone pierced through.“He doesn’t 'look' like someone who should be driving one,” her husband scoffed, giving Allvar a once-over that lingered just long enough to burn.Allvar’s cheeks flushed, and he quickened his pace, wishing he could disappear.“Really?” another voice chimed in from his left. “A t-shirt and jeans at 'La Maison Élégance'?” The woman snickered, nudging her friend. “I guess he thinks money equals class.”Her friend’s laughter echoed as Allvar passed by, his shoulders stiffening

67Allvar sat quietly, drumming his fingers against the table, trying to drown out the incessant whispers. His gaze flickered toward the entrance, weighing the possibility of making a quick exit. But his pride held him firmly in place. He wasn’t about to be run out by a bunch of strangers who had no idea who he really was.A loud voice cut through the soft ambiance. “I bet he asked for it well-done. I mean, of course, he did,” the man scoffed, his companions laughing along.Allvar’s grip on his glass tightened. He could feel the sting of their laughter more with every passing second.“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Allvar looked up to see a tall, silver-haired woman in a tailored suit approaching his table. Her face was a picture of composure, though her eyes held a glint of something else—curiosity, perhaps.She was undeniable beautiful with her blue eyes and long hair. She seemed to be in her mid twenties.“Mind if I join you?” she asked, already pulling out the chair

69Allvar leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table, a small smile playing on his lips. The whispers from the nearby table hadn't stopped; if anything, they'd grown louder, punctuated with thinly veiled insults."Look at him, hiding behind her," one of the men sneered, not bothering to lower his voice. "Coward can’t even stand up for himself. Pathetic."Allvar’s eyes flickered with irritation, but he kept his composure, glancing at Seraphina, who sipped her water, entirely unbothered. “They’re persistent, I’ll give them that,” he murmured.Seraphina chuckled lightly. “Desperation has a way of making people louder.”“Hey, you!” Another voice called out, louder this time. “Yeah, you with the cheap white shirt! What’s it like having a woman fight your battles for you?”Allvar finally turned to face the table of men, his gaze calm but cold. “Is that the best you’ve got?” he asked, his voice steady. “I was hoping for something a little more creativ