Young Master?!

Chapter 4

Allvar stood frozen on the sidewalk, watching the older man step out of the luxury car. His heart raced as he recognized him, Mr. Lorentz, his neighbor of several years.

But how? The man had never been wealthy. In fact, he had always seemed like a regular, unassuming old man living next door. Now, here he was, stepping out of a car that probably cost more than Allvar had ever made in his entire life.

"Mr. Lorentz?" Allvar's voice cracked, barely believing what he was seeing. "What are you doing here? What’s going on?"

To Allvar’s utter shock, Mr. Lorentz walked up to him with a calm but respectful air. The older man bowed slightly, his expression serious but respectful. “Young master,” he greeted him, voice low and steady. “Please, come with me.”

Allvar blinked, his head spinning. “Young master?” he repeated, bewildered. “What the hell are you talking about? This—this has to be some kind of joke, right?”

The older man straightened, his face unreadable. “I assure you, young master, it’s no joke. Please, get in the car.”

Allvar’s mouth went dry. His feet felt glued to the ground. “I don’t understand,” he said, almost to himself. “What’s going on? Mr. Lorentz, you… you’ve lived next to me for years! How are you, what is all this?”

Mr. Lorentz offered him a small, enigmatic smile but didn’t answer directly. “You will understand soon enough, young master. But for now, I must insist that you come with me. There’s someone waiting to see you.”

Allvar felt dizzy, because everything was abnormal today. First the failure of the interview, next the betrayal of Serena and now this.

Allvar hesitated, his mind racing with questions, doubts, and a creeping sense of dread. But there was also an odd pull, a curiosity gnawing at him. “This better not be some kind of prank,” he muttered under his breath before stepping toward the car.

He slid into the back seat, the leather seats soft and cool against his skin. Mr. Lorentz entered after him, sitting calmly as the driver pulled away from the curb.

The silence in the car was heavy, almost suffocating, and Allvar’s mind was buzzing with confusion.

“So,” Allvar finally spoke, glancing sideways at his neighbor, “are you rich now? Is this all some lottery win or something? Because this…” he gestured vaguely at the expensive car around them, “this doesn’t make any sense.”

Mr. Lorentz chuckled softly, though he still kept his eyes straight ahead. “It’s not quite that simple, young master. You’ll know everything very soon.”

Allvar frowned, feeling more disoriented by the second. “Stop calling me that,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “I’m not anyone’s ‘young master.’ I’m Allvar, the broke guy whose life you’ve been watching fall apart next door.”

Mr. Lorentz remained quiet, his face still unreadable. The car moved swiftly through the city, and before Allvar could wrap his head around what was happening, they were pulling up to a massive wrought-iron gate. Behind it loomed a sprawling villa. The sheer size of it made Allvar’s stomach churn.

“What… what is this place?” he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.

The car rolled to a stop, and Mr. Lorentz turned to him, his expression softening slightly. “Welcome, young master. We’ve arrived.”

Allvar didn’t move, his hands gripping the seat beneath him. “Why are you calling me that? What the hell is going on?”

“You’ll find your answers inside,” Mr. Lorentz said gently, opening the door and stepping out. Allvar followed reluctantly, his legs feeling weak as they walked toward the grand entrance of the villa.

He was too stunned to notice the opulence around him, the marble floors, the crystal chandeliers, the lush gardens that surrounded the estate. His mind was reeling, trying to make sense of everything. As they entered the massive double doors, he was immediately drawn to a figure seated in the grand living room.

Allvar’s breath caught in his throat.

There, sitting on an ornate couch, was his father.