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Eleanor’s expression shifted, a flicker of anger crossing her face. “What do you mean rejected? What happened?”
Allvar took a deep breath, still trying to grasp the reality of the situation. “I had an interview for an entry- level position. They were dismissive, rude… I felt like they just wanted to tear me apart. They kept mocking my appearance and belittling my experience.”
Eleanor’s jaw tightened. “I can’t believe this. Who were the interviewers? They have no idea what they’re doing if they treated you like that. This is unacceptable” Her voice had taken on a fierce edge, and Allvar could sense the power radiating from her.
“It was a panel,” Allvar explained. “The man in the center–he acted like I was just wasting his time. He said I didn’t have the grit for the job because I couldn’t afford a decent suit.”
“That’s outrageous!” Eleanor exclaimed, her eyes blazing. “I will find out who gave that order and severely punish them. You don’t deserve to be treated like that, especially not by your family’s family, young
master.”
Allvar felt a swell of hope at her words, a contrast to the humiliation he’d faced earlier. “Thank you, but-”
“No ‘buts.‘ You deserve respect, young master. I want you to come to the company tomorrow.”
Allvar nodded, still in disbelief. “Okay. I appreciate that.”
Allvar’s thoughts a mix of anticipation and anxiety. What would tomorrow bring?
The next morning, Allvar woke early, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through him. He dressed simply, opting for his usual attire–a plain white shirt and dark jeans. Even though he had just learned of his family’s wealth, he preferred to keep things uncomplicated.
Arriving at Waterfall Corporation, he was struck once again by the grandeur of the building–tall glass windows reflecting the sky, sleek architecture that screamed power and prestige.
He felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he stepped through the revolving doors.
As he walked through the lobby, he saw employees moving with purpose, their suits crisp and polished. Allvar suddenly felt out of place, he seemed out of place.
He sighed and before he could gather his thoughts, he caught sight of a familiar face, one of the men from the interview panel, striding across the lobby with an air of superiority.
His name was Marcus Vale, and the memory of his disdainful remarks flooded back, twisting a knife in Allvar’s gut.
Marcus’s eyes locked onto Allvar, and a smirk crept across his face. “Well, well, if it isn’t the charity case,” he sneered, sauntering over. “What are you doing here? Did you come to beg for another chance? Or are you just looking for a place to hide from your failures?”
Allvar’s pulse quickened, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m here on business, actually,” he replied,
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trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m meeting with Eleanor Westwood.”
“Eleanor?” Marcus laughed derisively. “What could she possibly want with you? Do you really think you’re qualified to even breathe the same air as her? You might want to leave before you embarrass yourself again.”
Allvar clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out. “You don’t know anything about me or what I can do, ” he said, his voice low but firm.
“Please,” Marcus shot back, rolling his eyes. “You’re just a kid who couldn’t even impress a group of half- hearted interviewers. We made the right choice in cutting you out. You’re a joke, loser, and I don’t even know what you’re doing here.”
Allvar felt his fists tighten as Marcus’s words hit him, each one like a slap in the face. He exhaled slowly, trying to keep his cool, but his heart pounded with the desire to retaliate.
“I’m not here to impress you,” Allvar finally said, his voice colder now. “And maybe I didn’t fit into whatever shallow standards you have, but that doesn’t define me.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed, his smirk growing crueler as he crossed his arms, looking Allvar up and down.” You’re a waste of space, you know that?” His voice dripped with disdain. “I don’t know what makes you think you have any right to be here.”
Allvar held his ground, though the frustration gnawed at him. “I already told you, I have a meeting with Eleanor Westwood. I’m here on business.”
Marcus let out a bark of laughter. “Business? With you?” He leaned in closer, his tone mocking. “You’re not fit to step into this building. What are you really here for? To cry about how unfair life is?” He waved a dismissive hand. “This isn’t some charity, kid. You’re out of your depth.”
“I’ve got just as much right to be here as anyone else,” Allvar shot back, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “And Eleanor-”
“Enough,” Marcus interrupted, his voice rising. His expression darkened, and he turned to a pair of nearby security guards. “Get this nobody out of here. He’s clearly here to cause trouble.”
The two guards exchanged glances before approaching Allvar. “Sir, you’re going to have to leave,” one of them said, stepping forward.
Allvar’s heart pounded. He took a step back, looking between the guards and Marcus, who was grinning with satisfaction. “This is ridiculous! I told you, I have a meeting!”
Marcus chuckled as he watched the scene unfold, folding his arms across his chest. “You really thought you could just waltz in here and play with the big boys, huh? Newsflash–you don’t belong here.”
Allvar’s frustration boiled over. “You don’t get to decide that,” he snapped, his voice shaking with anger. I’m not leaving.”
The guards stepped closer, clearly ready to remove him by force.
But before anyone could act, a commanding voice echoed through the lobby. “What’s going on here?”
