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Get Ready For Allvar Falck's Ruthless Return 190
190The sound of the collision drew a small crowd, people gathering with hushed murmurs as they assessed the scene. Allvar, standing tall despite the pain in his shoulder, tried to maintain his composure. The whispers around him were a mixture of opinions, their words reaching his ears.“Looks like some rich kid hit this poor guy.” “Did you hear what he said about his car? Unbelievable!” But not all the murmurs were in his favor. “Isn’t that Lucas Radcliffe? He’s loaded. I bet he’ll make this go away in minutes.” “Well, you can’t expect someone like this poor guy to understand. He probably can’t even afford a decent lawyer.”Allvar’s jaw tightened as the chatter grew louder. His focus, however, remained fixed on Lucas Radcliffe, the man-child standing before him, adjusting his tie with an air of entitlement. Lucas’s smirk was infuriatingly smug, his blue designer suit unruffled despite the situation. He casually brushed a hand through his perfectly styled blonde hair, as if th
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191“Hey, show some respect!” an elderly man leaning on a cane shouted, shaking his head. “You don’t get to talk to people like that.”Lucas turned sharply, his expression hardening as he spotted the speaker. The elderly man, stooped and fragile, stood with a firm glare, his hands clutching his cane with intensity. “Respect? For this guy?” Lucas laughed bitterly, pointing a mocking finger at Allvar. “He’s driving a tin can and thinks he’s someone important. Newsflash, grandpa: respect is earned. And you,” he gestured at Allvar, “haven’t earned a dime of it.”The crowd shifted uncomfortably, murmurs of discontent rising from the spectators.“You can’t talk to an elder like that!” a woman snapped, her voice tinged with anger.“Leave him alone, man,” someone else said, stepping closer, clearly agitated. “You’re the one causing trouble here. Quit being a jerk.”But Lucas wasn’t done. He looked directly at the dissenters, sneering as his eyes scanned them one by one. “Oh, please. You lot a
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192“Why are we even siding with this guy?” someone muttered, nodding toward Allvar. “Lucas is right—he’s just another nobody with a beat-up car.” “Maybe he should apologize,” another chimed in. “Lucas is the one with the resources to fix this mess.” Allvar turned to the crowd, his expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Are you serious? You’re siding with him after everything he just said? After watching him insult all of you?” The elderly man stepped forward again, his cane trembling in his grip. “Don’t lose heart, son. Some of us still know right from wrong.” But his words were drowned out by Lucas’s laughter. “Oh, this is rich. The poor man’s knight in shining armor. How quaint.” Lucas’s derision cut through the air like a knife, and Allvar felt his composure slipping. This man was impossible—a walking embodiment of everything wrong with the world. Yet the worst part wasn’t Lucas’s arrogance; it was the crowd’s willingness to turn on itself for a handful of cash.
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193The crowd thinned out, their murmurs fading into the distance as people reluctantly returned to their routines. Allvar exhaled deeply, letting the tension seep out of his body as he glanced at his car. Miraculously, despite Lucas’s earlier mockery, the vehicle stood unscathed—a testament to its sturdy engineering and, perhaps, a touch of luck. He was about to climb into the driver's seat when the soft, determined sound of approaching footsteps made him pause. “Hey,” came a voice, and Allvar turned to see the young woman who had stood up to Lucas earlier. She was taller than he’d initially noticed, her posture straight, her gaze direct. “You okay?” He blinked, caught off guard. “I... I think so. Thanks to you, I guess.” She smiled faintly, folding her arms. “Don’t mention it. Someone had to say something, and you looked like you could use the backup.” Allvar chuckled dryly. “Yeah, I appreciate that. Not many people would’ve done what you did.” He extended a hand. “Allvar Fa
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194Parking in his reserved spot, he stepped out of the car and adjusted his tie. His polished exterior belied the irritation simmering beneath the surface.The lobby was buzzing as usual, employees scurrying to and fro with papers and coffee cups in hand. As Allvar strode through the main entrance, heads turned. His presence commanded attention, and the faint whispers of gossip trailed in his wake.He reached the elevator and pressed the button for the executive floor. As the doors slid shut, his reflection stared back at him, composed and unreadable. But his thoughts were anything but calm.The elevator dinged softly, and Allvar stepped out into the plush, carpeted corridor. He made his way to his office, nodding curtly at passing colleagues. Clarabelle, his efficient and unflappable secretary, greeted him at the door.“Good morning, Mr. Falck,” she said with a smile. “Glad to see you back. Mrs. Abbott, Jake, and Edgar have already scheduled a meeting for this morning. They seemed…
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195As the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the towering glass building, Allvar remained in his office, scrolling through a series of reports. His focus, however, was intermittently broken by the memory of Mrs. Abbott’s smug smile and Jake’s condescending remarks. The trio had pushed him today, but he knew they wouldn’t stop there.A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. Clarabelle peeked in, her expression uncharacteristically serious.“Mr. Falck,” she began, stepping inside and lowering her voice. “You should know—I overheard something while delivering coffee to the conference room.”Allvar straightened. “Go on.”“It’s Mrs. Abbott and the others,” Clarabelle continued, her tone tense. “They were discussing a potential vote of no confidence. They’re planning to bring it up at the board meeting you just scheduled.”Allvar’s jaw tightened. “A vote of no confidence? That’s bold, even for them.”“They mentioned a new investor backing their proposal,” she
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196As Allvar plotted his next steps late into the night, unaware of the brewing storm, Mr. Lorentz found himself pacing in his quarters. The loyal butler wrestled with conflicting loyalties. Should he respect Allvar’s wishes or inform Leonard Falck, Allvar’s father, of the brewing conflict? Finally, unable to suppress his unease, Lorentz made his decision. With a determined sigh, he grabbed his phone and dialed a number he rarely used unless absolutely necessary. The line buzzed for a moment before Leonard’s deep, commanding voice answered. “Lorentz? It’s quite late. What’s the urgency?” “Mr. Falck,” Lorentz began cautiously, his tone steady but laced with concern, “I wouldn’t disturb you at this hour unless it were vital. It’s about the young master.” There was a pause, then Leonard’s voice turned sharp. “Allvar? What’s happened? Is he hurt?” “No, sir,” Lorentz assured quickly. “Physically, he’s fine. But there’s trouble—Victor Hawthorne and others are conspiring against h
Get Ready For Allvar Falck's Ruthless Return 197
197Allvar sat at his desk long after returning from the cryptic meeting at the Grand Pavilion Nightclub. The woman’s words and the damning evidence on the flash drive swirled through his mind, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story. Why had she reached out? Why now? Her final words echoed in his head: Are you willing to play dirty?The thought unsettled him. Allvar prided himself on his ability to stay composed and strategic, but the prospect of dealing with someone like Lucas Radcliffe and the conniving trio was forcing him into unfamiliar territory. Feeling the weight of exhaustion creep in, he decided to call it a night. Maybe a few hours of sleep would clear his head.---The following morning, sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Falck estate’s dining room. Allvar walked in, still groggy from the restless night. He was dressed in a crisp shirt and trousers but hadn’t yet summoned the energy to put on his usual sharp suit jacke
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298Allvar didn’t answer right away. His mind was working, trying to come up with a way out, a plan, anything. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure he could escape. The pain from the slap still throbbed in his jaw, and the ropes around his wrists were too tight to slip free from. His muscles burned, his body heavy with fatigue from the earlier struggles.Tobias waited, watching him carefully. “Nothing to say? Interesting.”Allvar glared at him, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. His thoughts raced, trying to formulate a plan. But Tobias’s mocking gaze made it hard to focus. He clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together.“You’re not going to win,” Allvar said quietly, though he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it himself. “This will end. It always does.”Tobias chuckled darkly, his voice low and dripping with amusement. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”Allvar couldn’t help but snap. The frustration, the anger, it all welled up inside of him. “Why don’t you just get it o
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297The stocky man shrugged. “Told you. He’s—”Without warning, Tobias slapped Allvar across the face, the sharp crack echoing through the warehouse. Allvar’s head snapped to the side, and a groan escaped his lips. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused.“There he is,” Tobias said, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. He crouched down again, grabbing Allvar by the chin and forcing him to look up. “Welcome back, Allvar. Did you have a nice nap?”Allvar winced, his jaw throbbing from the slap. He tried to pull away, but Tobias’s grip tightened. “Go to hell,” he rasped, his voice hoarse.Tobias chuckled darkly. “Oh, you’ve got some fight left in you. Good. I’d hate for this to be too easy.”The tall man and the stocky one snickered behind him, but Tobias silenced them with a sharp look. “You two—stand back. I’ll handle this.”They nodded quickly, retreating a few steps but staying close enough to watch.Tobias turned his attention back to Allvar, his expression turning
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296The group moved quickly through the damp alley, their prisoner slumped between the tall man and the stocky one. Allvar’s body hung limply, his head drooping as though unconscious. His feet dragged against the ground, leaving faint streaks of blood in their wake. The men didn’t seem to care, their focus solely on bringing him to Tobias."Pick up the pace," the tall man growled, his voice sharp with irritation. His eyes darted ahead, scanning the darkened alley for any signs of danger. "Boss doesn’t like waiting."The stocky man grunted in annoyance. "What’s the rush? He’s not going anywhere. Look at him—barely breathing.""Yeah? And whose fault will it be if he dies before Tobias gets a word out of him?" the tall man snapped, shooting his partner a glare that could cut through steel. His grip tightened on Allvar’s arm as if to emphasize the point.The stocky man let out an exasperated sigh but said nothing. "Not my problem," he muttered under his breath, though his eyes flicked to
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295“Careful,” the tall man said mockingly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t want him bleeding out before Tobias sees him.”Weston chuckled, shaking Allvar’s limp arm. “Bleeding out?” he scoffed. “Look at him. He’s practically swimming in his own blood already. Tobias’ll think we hit a slaughterhouse on the way.”Allvar could barely make out their words through the haze of pain, his vision blurring in and out. His muscles trembled, but he held on, fighting against the darkness threatening to swallow him whole. He clenched his teeth and managed to grunt, though his words came out in a painful rasp. “You… won’t win,” he hissed, barely audible, but enough to taunt them.The tall man stopped in his tracks, turning to lean down toward Allvar. He moved slowly, his breath hot and foul against Allvar’s ear as he whispered. “Win?” The man’s voice was thick with amusement. “Oh, Allvar, we already have. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”Weston snorted behind him, clearly enjoying the
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294The sound of heavy boots brought Allvar back from the brink of unconsciousness. His body felt like it was being torn apart, each movement sending fresh waves of agony through his limbs. His skin was slick with sweat, his breath ragged and shallow. He stirred slightly, barely able to move, and his surroundings swam in and out of focus.The storage closet was still cloaked in darkness, a suffocating void of silence and pain. Allvar tried to push himself up, but his strength failed him. His head was pounding, and his body was weak from the beating he had taken earlier. He could hear the footsteps now, their rhythm echoing through the narrow space. The voices outside were unmistakably closer, too close.“Check that door again,” barked one of the men, his voice sharp with authority.“All right, all right,” came the response, gruff and impatient. “You checked it five minutes ago, Holt. He’s not Houdini. He’s not gonna vanish into thin air.”“You checked it, but you didn’t check it right
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293Desperation coursed through him, pushing him forward once more, despite the pain, despite the blood dripping down his side. Every movement burned, but stopping wasn’t an option. His breaths came short and fast, his chest heaving with the effort.“It’s not… it’s not far…” Allvar rasped, though he knew he was lying to himself. His body was failing him, and he could feel it. He was slowing down, his legs refusing to carry him any further. Every step felt like an eternity, his boots dragging against the uneven pavement.A voice in his head screamed at him to stop, to rest, to let the pain win. But he shook his head violently, gritting his teeth. "No… not yet," he hissed, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart in his ears.The narrow alley stretched endlessly ahead of him, the shadows swallowing the dim light of the flickering streetlamps. The air smelled of damp concrete and rot, and the walls seemed to close in tighter with every step he took.“Where is it?” he mutte
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292Allvar’s legs screamed in agony as he forced himself to move, each step like a hot iron being driven into his muscles. The bleeding from the stab wound in his side had slowed to a steady trickle, but the pain was unbearable, gnawing at him with every breath. He could feel the blood soaking into his shirt, warm and sticky, as it ran down his torso.He had to keep going.“Move, damn it,” he muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth. “Just one more step. One more…”But his body wasn’t listening. Each movement felt heavier, slower. Tobias’s men were closing in, their footsteps echoing through the narrow alleyways like death’s march. He couldn’t afford to stop, couldn’t let them get close enough to see the blood. If they saw it, they’d know how weak he was.Allvar glanced over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the darkened streets. “Where the hell are they?” he whispered, his voice trembling. The night was too quiet. He could hear his own heart pounding, erratic and loud, in his ears
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291“They’re getting closer,” Allvar repeated, his voice laced with desperation as he stumbled forward, his gaze darting over his shoulder. The faint echo of footsteps reverberated in the cold night air, sending a shiver down his spine. His stomach churned as the realization hit him—Tobias’s men were closing in, and his options were running out.“This can’t be it,” he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. “I can’t let him win. Not like this.”The sound of footsteps grew louder, more distinct. Allvar’s eyes darted to the left, then the right, scanning the maze of narrow alleyways and shadowed buildings. Every pathway seemed to stretch into endless darkness, and every corner felt like a potential ambush. He forced himself to make a choice, lunging toward a dimly lit alley to his left.“You’re wasting time,” he hissed to himself. “Move, Allvar. Move!”His boots pounded against the uneven ground as he sprinted forward, his breaths ragged and sharp in the icy air. His heart hammer
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290The men scrambled to comply, their fear propelling them into action. But Tobias wasn’t finished. His eyes locked onto one of them, the closest to him, as he advanced slowly, his footsteps deliberate and menacing.“You,” Tobias spat, his voice like ice. “You were supposed to keep him contained. What the hell happened?”The man’s breath hitched as he swallowed hard, eyes darting nervously. “I—I’m sorry, Tobias,” he stammered, taking a hesitant step back, his body tense, as though he were anticipating the strike. “We didn’t—”Before the man could finish, Tobias’s hand shot out, the blade flashing in the low light. He didn’t hesitate. The knife buried itself deep into the man’s neck with a sickening sound, blood spraying across the floor. A gurgling sound escaped the man’s throat as he collapsed to the ground, his hands twitching desperately in his final moments.The remaining men froze, their eyes wide in horror. The air in the room thickened, filled with the scent of blood and terro
