Get Ready For Allvar Falck's Ruthless Return

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Allvar 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