160The night of the party had arrived, and Derek stood in front of his ornate, full-length mirror, fingers fastening the last button of his tailored, jet-black suit jacket. The fabric was impeccable, crafted from the finest silk with subtle gold-thread embroidery at the cuffs and collar.Despite the meticulous attire, a faint bruise still shadowed his cheek, a stubborn remnant of the confrontation that lingered as a dull throb with each movement of his arm. Below, the deep bass of music pulsed through the walls, signaling that guests were already mingling in the grand ballroom, glasses clinking and laughter echoing like a challenge.Derek took a deep breath, trying to steady the fury simmering in his chest. The humiliation of that day still stung, and his hatred for Allvar, the man who had sparked it all, burned brighter than ever.Suddenly, the door burst open without warning. Victor strode in, his imposing presence filling the room in an instant. His cold eyes swept over Derek, not
161The night had finally arrived, and Leonard Falck paced in the study, the tension lining his features as he turned to Mr. Lorentz, the ever-dutiful butler. “Lorentz,” Leonard said with a weary sigh, “fetch one of my finest suits for Allvar. Tonight, he must look impeccable.”“Yes, sir.” Mr. Lorentz inclined his head and disappeared down the hall. When he returned, he was holding an exquisite midnight-blue suit with subtle silver-thread embroidery along the lapels—a garment that spoke of prestige and silent power. He stepped into Allvar’s room, where the young man sat on the edge of his bed, gaze distant.“Allvar,” Mr. Lorentz said, laying the suit carefully on the velvet armchair. “Here is what your father requested you to wear.”Allvar’s eyes flicked to the suit, then to Mr. Lorentz. “Thank you,” he muttered, reaching out to touch the fine fabric, but his hand froze midway when the butler’s expression softened with concern.“It’s not my place, Master Allvar,” Mr. Lorentz began, fo
162 The laughter echoed like a cacophony of mocking crows as Allvar stepped out of the sedan. The moment he emerged, dressed in the midnight-blue suit with subtle silver embroidery, heads turned, and eyes widened with barely concealed amusement. The brilliance of their own shimmering, gem-encrusted ensembles outshone his understated attire, or so they thought. “Look at that,” a young man whispered to his companion, struggling to suppress a grin. “Did he get lost on his way to a funeral?” “Must be a new servant trying to make a statement,” another voice chimed in, followed by a snicker. The crowd erupted in low chuckles, a symphony of arrogance that twisted through the cool night air. Allvar’s jaw clenched, but his expression remained neutral. He took a deep breath, allowing the whispers to slide off him like rain on a stone. This was exactly what he expected. He tightened his grip on the keys in his hand, tossing them back into the car before striding forward, his shoulders squa
163The crowd surged forward, the air thick with derisive laughter that bit at Allvar like a swarm of stinging insects. The taller guard, his eyes cold as polished stone, stepped even closer until he loomed over Allvar, blocking the light from the chandelier above. “Look, boy,” he spat, his voice lowering to a dangerous rumble, “you need to walk away before this becomes a problem you don’t want to have.”Allvar’s throat tightened, but he lifted his chin, holding the guard’s gaze. “I’m telling you the truth. Leonard Falck sent me. I’m his—”The young woman in silver, her sequin-studded dress catching the light like shards of ice, let out a scoff so sharp it might as well have been a blade. “Oh, spare us the theatrics. Do you expect us to believe that Leonard Falck, who could hire any polished envoy in the city, sent you here?” Her dark eyes swept over his simple sedan parked at the edge of the lot. “In that tin can?”The crowd erupted in renewed laughter, faces flushed with mirth and
164The guards moved, reaching for Allvar with practiced precision. Allvar’s heart thudded, the heat of humiliation and fury coursing through him like fire. He took a step back, raising his hands defensively. “Don’t touch me.”The taller guard’s expression darkened, and he lunged. “Enough of this—”Before he could finish, the guards’ hands closed in around Allvar, their expressions a mix of irritation and relish. Allvar's breath quickened, his heart thundering beneath his ribs as he forced himself to stand tall. He met the taller guard's glare with a defiance he barely felt."Touch me again, and you’ll regret it," Allvar warned, his voice low and tight.The guard sneered, throwing back his head with a bark of laughter. The sound was quickly picked up by the onlookers, who jeered and clapped as if this were some grand show meant for their amusement."Regret it, will we?" the second guard, the one with a scar cutting across his cheek, mocked. He pushed Allvar back, the movement rough en
165“Are you Allvar Falck?” he called out, his tone brisk, leaving no room for hesitation.Allvar’s eyes widened slightly, but he nodded, straightening his posture. “Yes, that’s me.”The two guards exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier bravado slipping away like sand through fingers. Anders’ eyes narrowed as they flickered to the guards, their smug expressions replaced with sudden apprehension.“Follow me, Mr. Falck,” Anders said, his tone softening slightly as he gestured for Allvar to approach. Without a moment’s pause, Allvar stepped forward, ignoring the guards’ shifting feet and shallow breaths. They were watching, but Anders was too, and his gaze was sharp and unyielding.As they walked back toward the building, Anders kept his stride purposeful but slowed enough to glance at Allvar. “My sincerest apologies, Mr. Falck. This oversight is unacceptable. I assure you it will be rectified.”Allvar’s jaw unclenched for the first time since the ordeal began. “Thank you. It’s… appreci
166Derek descended the grand staircase, his polished shoes clicking against the marble steps as he approached the glittering ballroom below. The space was alive with movement—women in flowing gowns and men in tailored suits mingled beneath a cascade of crystal chandeliers. The low hum of conversation mixed with the clinking of glasses and the soft strains of a string quartet in the corner. Derek’s eyes immediately scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces.His father, Victor, stood near the center of the room, commanding attention as he spoke with an air of authority. Beside him was Victoria’s father, Richard, his deep laugh carrying over the noise of the gathering. Victoria stood nearby, her gold dress shimmering under the light as she sipped champagne, her expression carefully neutral but her sharp eyes surveying the room.As Derek approached, Victor spotted him and gestured sharply for him to come over. “Derek,” Victor said, his voice loud and commanding. “Come meet some o
167The grandeur of the place overwhelmed Allvar the moment he stepped inside. The chandeliers, resembling cascading frozen waterfalls, cast a warm golden glow across the polished floors and the flowing gowns of the elite. Soft jazz music hummed in the background, blending seamlessly with the lively chatter of laughter and clinking glasses.Allvar lingered awkwardly at the edge of the room, his fingers brushing against a waiter’s tray as he grabbed a glass of champagne. He sipped it, letting the bubbles fizz on his tongue, though it did little to settle the knot of tension in his stomach. His eyes swept over the crowd, searching for any familiar faces, but the sea of strangers only heightened his discomfort. *Everyone here looks like they belong,* he thought bitterly, adjusting the lapels of his suit that felt too tight, too unfamiliar.Determined not to appear like an outsider, he took a breath and stepped further into the crowd. The sound of conversation buzzed in his ears, a stark