2024-12-30 23:25:39
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222The growing tension in the shop had not gone unnoticed. Several customers, who had been quietly browsing the shelves of antique trinkets and vintage furniture, began to shift their attention to the escalating argument. Murmurs rippled through the room as they exchanged glances, intrigued by Alvar’s boldness.A middle-aged man near a display of ornate vases cleared his throat loudly. “Well, this is something you don’t see every day,” he remarked to no one in particular, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and disbelief.“Certainly not in a place like this,” replied a younger woman standing beside him. She was holding a dusty book, her lips curling into a small smile. “Who knew antique shops could be so entertaining?”The older woman clutching a delicate porcelain figurine shook her head disapprovingly. “Young man, you should mind your business,” she said, her tone stern as she glanced at Alvar. “This lady is perfectly capable of making her own decisions without your interference.
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223The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, and Allvar could feel the eyes of the room on him. The woman who had been considering buying the clock shot him a suspicious look before speaking up, her voice dripping with annoyance."Fine," she said, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. "If you're so sure this clock isn't worth the price, then prove it. Get it appraised."Allvar’s gaze flickered over to Howard, who stood behind the counter, his face a mixture of defiance and growing discomfort. The dealer took a step back, his shoulders stiffening as if trying to distance himself from the idea of having his prized item scrutinized. For a moment, he didn’t respond, instead tightening his jaw and glaring at the room."No need for that," Howard muttered, his voice low but clearly audible. "This clock speaks for itself."The younger man in the leather jacket snorted from the corner, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. "Maybe it speaks for itself, but I don't think it's saying
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224He stormed over to the counter, his boots tapping loudly against the worn wooden floor, the noise echoing in the small, cluttered shop. His eyes flicked over the mess of papers and trinkets strewn across the surface, as though searching for something that might explain the inexplicable situation. Howard muttered to himself, shuffling through the stack of documents as his fingers fumbled with the papers. His frustration was palpable, but he said nothing to the woman still standing near the counter, clutching the old clock with trembling hands."Do you really think it’s fake?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible as she watched Allvar, her eyes shifting between him and the clock.Allvar turned towards her, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. "I wouldn’t be this confident if I wasn’t sure," he said, his tone calm yet firm. "But don’t take my word for it. Let the experts tell you." He gestured to the papers on the counter, trying to mask the frustration that simmered just
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225 The room was oppressively still, the weight of Mr. Larson's verdict pressing down on everyone like a suffocating fog. A collective gasp rippled through the shop as the crowd absorbed the revelation. Allvar’s eyes glinted with quiet triumph, though his face remained composed. He stood back, letting the unfolding chaos speak louder than any words he might offer. Howard was paralyzed, his face drained of all color. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, but no sound came. His fists were clenched so tightly that the veins bulged on his hands. Gone was the swaggering bravado of the dealer; now, he looked like a desperate, cornered animal, his carefully constructed pride crumbling before the crowd. “No!” Howard suddenly shouted, his voice cracking like a broken bell. “It can’t be! This clock—this piece is one of a kind! You can’t just say it’s fake!” His voice wavered, each word soaked with desperation. Yet the uncertainty in his tone betrayed him. “Fake?” a man nea
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226“Oh, don’t go quiet now!” she continued, her voice rising with every word. “You had plenty to say when you were singing the praises of this trash. ‘A one-of-a-kind masterpiece,’ wasn’t it? ‘Worth every penny,’ you said! Turns out it’s barely worth the wood it’s made of!”“I—I didn’t know,” Howard stammered, his voice barely audible. His eyes darted nervously around the room, seeking even a sliver of support from the gathering crowd. “I swear, I didn’t know!”“Didn’t know?” she echoed, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she raised the offending clock in her hand for everyone to see. “You’re the expert antique dealer, aren’t you? Isn’t it your job to know?”“Exactly!” someone from the crowd chimed in, a young man near the back. “How can he not know? Either he’s lying, or he’s incompetent. Either way, he’s got no business running this shop!”A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. People shuffled closer, forming a semi-circle around Howard as if preparing for his public trial
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227Howard's breath came in ragged gasps as the last of the crowd trickled out of the shop. The once-bustling space, filled with chatter and sharp accusations, now felt desolate and heavy, as though the very air bore witness to his humiliation. His pride lay in tatters, his reputation shattered. His trembling hands gripped the edge of the counter as he fought to steady himself.The quiet, deliberate sound of footsteps behind him made his stomach churn. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Allvar’s presence was unmistakable, his calm demeanor like salt on an open wound.“You’re still here?” Howard muttered, his voice hoarse. He didn’t bother looking back, focusing instead on the worn wooden surface in front of him.“Still here,” Allvar replied evenly, his voice carrying an infuriating tranquility. “Unlike your so-called loyal customers. What a shame, Howard. They didn’t even bother to thank you for the show.”Howard clenched the counter tighter, his knuckles white against
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228“Ah, there it is again,” Allvar interrupted smoothly, holding up a finger. “The great Howard Sinclair, victim of circumstance. Tell me, do you ever get tired of playing that role? Or is it just too convenient?”“I’m telling the truth!” Howard insisted, his voice rising. “I didn’t know—”“And yet here we are,” Allvar said, stepping away from the counter and walking toward Howard. His steps were slow, deliberate, his presence suddenly imposing. “Customers furious, your name dragged through the mud, and your precious reputation crumbling before your eyes.”Howard backed up slightly, bumping against the counter. “I— I was trying to save the shop,” he stammered, his desperation evident. “Do you know what it’s like to struggle every day, to fight to keep something alive?”“Save the shop,” Allvar repeated, his tone dripping with disdain. “That’s your excuse? You were trying to save the shop, so you what, decided to sell counterfeit antiques? Brilliant plan, Howard. Truly inspired.”“I di
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229“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Howard muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His voice was shaky, each word tinged with desperation. “I thought—I thought I could fix it before anyone noticed…”Allvar leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his laughter low and mocking. “Fix it?” he repeated, one brow arching in disbelief. “Howard, the only thing you’ve been fixing is your own downfall. And honestly, you’ve done a spectacular job.”“Why are you even here?” Howard snapped, his frustration boiling over. His voice cracked as he glared at Allvar, who seemed unbothered by the outburst. “Did you come just to gloat? To rub salt in the wound?”Allvar smirked, the expression sharp enough to cut glass. “I came,” he said, his voice suddenly serious, “because I wanted to see what would happen when the great Howard Sinclair finally ran out of excuses.”Howard’s face twisted with fury. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and his fists clenched at
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285Tobias chuckled darkly, his voice echoing off the cold, damp walls of the warehouse. “Oh, I’m not trying to scare you, Allvar. Scaring you would be too easy. No,” he leaned in, his grin widening, “I’m just giving you a little taste of what’s to come. A small appetizer, if you will.”Allvar, tied to the rickety wooden chair, glared at him, his jaw tight. His chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing. “You think these games make you powerful, Tobias? You’re nothing but a parasite. Feeding off fear because you have nothing else.”Tobias’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second before he straightened, brushing invisible dust off his pristine suit. “Oh, Allvar. You always were good at playing the noble hero. But look where it’s gotten you. Tied up like a dog. Pathetic.”The door creaked open, and the scarred man—one of Tobias’s loyal goons—stepped in. He was holding something carefully between his fingers: a single photograph. The man walked to Tobias, his boots thuddin
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284Allvar’s wrists burned where the coarse ropes dug into his skin, but he refused to show any sign of pain. The dim light from a single bulb overhead cast harsh shadows across the cold, damp warehouse. Tobias, sitting in a battered wooden chair a few feet away, exuded the smug confidence of a predator toying with its prey. His cup of coffee steamed lazily, the rich aroma almost mocking the stale, metallic tang of the room.Tobias swirled the dark liquid in his cup, his eyes locked on Allvar. “You know, it’s almost poetic,” he began, his tone light but laced with malice. “The mighty Allvar, reduced to this. Tied up, powerless, and completely at my mercy.”Allvar forced a smirk despite the throbbing ache in his ribs. “If this is your idea of poetry, Tobias, I’m not surprised your love life is non-existent. Must be hard to charm anyone with that face.”Tobias’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he masked it with a low chuckle. “Still got that sharp tongue, huh? Let’s see
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283Back at her villa, Lily paced the length of her living room, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Her usually calm and composed demeanor was nowhere to be seen, her movements erratic and restless. She dialed Allvar’s number once more, her heart sinking when it went straight to voicemail. Again.“This isn’t like him,” she muttered, her voice tinged with frustration. She stared at her phone screen, willing it to show a notification, a missed call, a text—anything. Nothing.She plopped down on the couch, her hands gripping the cushions as her mind raced. The last time they had spoken, Allvar had sounded perfectly fine. He’d even joked about meeting her for breakfast this morning. What could’ve changed so drastically overnight?Her roommate, Claire, peeked her head into the living room, her blonde hair still damp from a shower. “Hey, everything okay? You’ve been pacing for like… an hour. It’s not healthy, you know. You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”Lily glanced up, her fac
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282The next morning, Lily stood before her bedroom mirror, a soft hum escaping her lips as she carefully applied a final coat of gloss to her lips. The faint smell of lavender lingered in the air from the candle she had lit, and the sun streamed through the half-drawn curtains, bathing her room in a golden glow. Her heart fluttered with anticipation, thinking about the day ahead.Her eyes darted to her phone on the dresser. She picked it up, frowning slightly when she saw no new notifications.“That’s odd,” she murmured, her fingers brushing the screen as she checked the time. It wasn’t like Allvar to stay silent for so long.She tapped the screen and called him. The line rang once, twice, then a third time before going to voicemail. Lily let out a frustrated sigh, setting the phone back on the dresser.“He’s probably busy,” she reasoned aloud, though her voice sounded less certain than she intended. “I’ll give him some time.”Walking to her closet, she rummaged through her collectio
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281Allvar blinked against the harsh, overhead light, his vision swimming as he fought to focus. The shadows around him blurred and shifted until one figure came into clarity—Tobias. Despite the throbbing in his temples and the ache coursing through his body, a faint smirk curled his lips.“I should’ve known,” Allvar rasped, his voice barely audible but dripping with sarcasm. “Tobias.”Tobias’ smile faltered for a split second before returning, colder and sharper than before. He stepped forward, the click of his polished shoes echoing ominously on the concrete floor. His jaw was set, his eyes burning with suppressed rage.“Allvar,” Tobias drawled, his tone deceptively casual. “Still trying to act clever, even now. Some things never change, do they?”Allvar chuckled weakly, though it sent a jolt of pain through his ribs. “Clever? No, Tobias. I’m just… better. Always have been.”The sharp crack of Tobias’ hand across Allvar’s face interrupted the moment, the sound reverberating through
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280The convoy slowed to a halt in front of a secluded warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The building loomed large, its rusted exterior a grim monument to years of abandonment. Under the moonlit sky, its jagged edges seemed to slice through the night like a predator’s teeth. Inside the SUVs, the air was heavy, thick with an unspoken tension.“Why do we always get these lovely assignments?” Gary muttered from the passenger seat, rubbing his temples.“Quit complaining,” Dan shot back from the driver’s seat. “You act like we didn’t sign up for this.”Gary snorted, glancing at the rearview mirror where Allvar’s unconscious body sprawled across the back seat. “Doesn’t mean I can’t question why we’re lugging around a human boulder.”“Enough,” the leader snapped from the back of the lead SUV, his voice cutting through the static tension. “We’re here.”The men climbed out of their vehicles, boots crunching against the gravel. The night air carried a sharp chill, and a faint mist clung t
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279The stillness of the night was interrupted by the shuffle of footsteps and hushed whispers. A group of men, dressed in dark clothing, emerged cautiously from the shadows, their faces masked with unease. They huddled around Allvar’s unconscious body, their breaths visible in the cold air.“Is he... dead?” one of them whispered, his voice trembling as he nudged Allvar’s motionless form with the tip of his shoe.“Don’t just poke him, you idiot!” another hissed, smacking the first man lightly on the shoulder. “Check properly!”“Why do I have to do it?” the first man protested, his eyes darting around as though he expected Allvar to suddenly jump up. “What if he’s faking it?”“Faking it?” the second man scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Did you not see the blow he took? Nobody’s faking after that. Now hurry up, or do you want the boss breathing down our necks?”The man hesitated, shifting nervously. “Fine, fine! Just... keep an eye out, okay?” He crouched down, his fingers trembling as he re
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278The sirens grew louder, their wails slicing through the night like an ominous promise of doom. Scarface’s panic morphed into desperation as he pushed Allvar’s hand away with a snarl. His face was flushed, the earlier confidence on his scarred features now replaced by sheer frustration. He barked orders to his remaining men, spittle flying as he shouted, “Get him in the car! Now!”Allvar wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth, smirking despite the ache radiating through his body. “You really think this is over?” His voice was steady, laced with dark amusement. “I haven’t even started.”Scarface’s lip curled in disdain. “Someone shut him up!”Two of Scarface’s men lunged at Allvar in response, their movements sloppy but determined. Allvar sidestepped the first attacker with ease, landing a quick jab to the man’s jaw that sent him staggering back with a grunt. The second man swung wildly, but Allvar ducked low and drove a powerful kick to his knee, eliciting a sickenin
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277Allvar stirred, the pounding ache in the back of his head dragging him back to consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, and he squinted against the glaring light of a flashlight pointed directly at his face. Groaning, he tried to sit up, but his arms and legs were bound with thick zip ties. The rough gravel beneath him scraped against his palms as he shifted. A pair of heavy boots stepped into his line of sight.“Well, well, look who’s awake,” a deep, mocking voice said. The speaker crouched down, revealing a man with a scar running down the side of his face. His smirk was cruel, and his dark eyes gleamed with malicious amusement. “Did you sleep well, Mr. Allvar?”Allvar blinked, his vision clearing as he took in the scene around him. At least five men stood in a loose circle, all armed with knives, bats, and one with a gun slung casually over his shoulder. Their faces were hard and unfriendly, and their postures spoke of danger.“What is this?” Allvar demanded, his voice hoarse bu
