The Rise of Alexander Black (the Errand Boy)!

Chapter 3

The stares followed Alex from the moment he stepped onto the marble steps of Heritage Finance Bank, his ridiculous clown costume drawing more than a few snickers from the few people littered around. 

He’d gone back into school to get his clothes but on getting to the classroom where he'd changed, his clothes were gone. He figured anything could happen in the twenty minutes it would take him to go back to his apartment and change so he quickly hurried to the bank, deciding that as long as he was there for legitimate business, his attire shouldn't matter.

Now here he was—bright red wig, painted grin, and balloon-patterned jumpsuit—trying to look like a man with serious business.

The two security guards at the entrance exchanged a look before blocking his path.

“And what exactly do you want, clown boy?” the taller one asked, his voice laced with mockery.

“I’m here to see the bank president,” Alex replied flatly, as if it were the most normal request in the world, urgency in his tone.

Their laughter was loud enough to make a few customers turn. “You hear that? The president,” the second guard chuckled. “Of course you are; you must be the secretary of defense, right?”

The taller one joined him to laugh once more.

Alex just stared at them, a vein in his forehead ticking as he counted backwards from ten.

“Are you both done?” He demanded.

“Their brows went up and their laughter slowed. They looked at him from head to toe, wondering where he was getting his guts from.

“Listen here, clown boy,” the taller one addressed him in a more serious tone. “We’re not in the mood for games today. So get lost before we lose our patience.”

But Alex didn’t move. He folded his arms, planting his feet like an oak. “I’m a customer of this bank and I have a legitimate and urgent reason for requesting to see the bank’s president.”

His eyes gleamed with determination. “I’m not leaving until I see him.”

Both guards turned to each other again, with amused expressions on their faces.

Who was this bold clown?

They'd tried to be nice. He definitely needed to be taught a lesson.

“I see you don't like the easy way out of things.” The shorter guard said to Alex.

Then, as though they'd rehearsed for this, both of them pounced on him, seizing his arms.

Alex pushed against them, struggling to free himself. Just then, “Excuse me? What's going on there?”

The trio turned toward the commanding voice.

It was a man speaking from an exotic car, slowing to a stop a few feet away from the short flight of stairs leading to the bank.

The guards immediately recognized the man as one of the bank's VIP clients and promptly let go of Alex and bowed to him.

“Y-you’re welcome, sir!” They chanted in unison.

Alex couldn't get a good look at the man as he was wearing sunglasses; he just wondered who it could be that had these guards acting like puppies.

Of course it was someone with influence, judging from his car and the fact that people like these guards only showed respect to those who had great financial command. Alex shook his head internally.

The man motioned for them to wait, then he properly parked his car, not far from where they were standing.

The guards turned back to Alex, ready to rain fire and brimstone—his appearance was a stain on such a prestigious establishment as the Heritage Finance Bank.

“You'd better le—”

“Excuse me, I said to let the young man go.” The man spoke with authority from his car again.

The guards jumped in alarm and bowed to him, apologizing profusely.

He ignored them, turning his gaze on Alex as the young man wondered why this man was standing up for him.

“Alexander Morris Black?”

Alex's heart stopped beating for three whole seconds.

Very few people knew his full name.

Who could this man be?

He nodded mutely, still in shock as he moved towards the man's beckoning hand.

As he got closer, the man took off his sunglasses, and he saw that it was a very familiar face.

Tony Brummer.

Or, as Alex knew him, Uncle Tony.

Uncle Tony was one of his father's closest friends before his father—Steven Black—died in a car crash years ago with his mother.

Alex had not seen uncle Tony—or any of his father's friends for that matter—since the day of his parents’ funeral.

He'd always felt terrible. And angry at how they'd all abandoned him—especially his father's business partners, of which uncle Tony was one.

But at that moment, the anger of abandonment wasn't at the forefront of his mind; the first thing he felt was joy at finally finding the man.

At least now, maybe he could answer some of the questions that had bugged him all these years concerning his father's death.

Uncle Tony and his father had been working on a huge business deal together before his father's abrupt and tragic passing.

But he reminded himself that before he got into that, he needed to sort this surprise money out with the bank president.

“I can't believe how much you've grown.” Uncle Tony said to him, emotion in his voice as he looked Alex up and down.

He soon regained his composure and gestured for Alex to join him in the car.

“Please, come in!”

The leather interior of the Bentley seemed to swallow Alex whole. The door shut with a quiet, expensive click, sealing out the noise of the bank’s entrance. 

“How have you been, Alex?” he asked, his tone softer now. “It’s been… far too long.”

Alex hesitated. Far too long was one way to put it. In his head, he saw flashes of birthdays without calls, school days with no one at the gate, nights wondering if every one of his father’s friends had just erased him.

Uncle Tony had been like his godfather. While he was growing up, the man had always been there. To think that he could just disappear when he'd needed him most.

But this wasn’t the time to start that fight.

“I’ve been… managing,” Alex said finally, forcing a small smile. “Things have been rough, but I’m okay.” 

Uncle Tony nodded slowly, one hand loose on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry,” he said, glancing over. “I should have been there for you after… everything. I failed you. Your father would have—”

“It’s fine,” Alex cut in quickly, keeping his eyes forward. The last thing he needed was a sentimental detour when he had business to handle. He could come back to these things later after sorting things out with the bank's president.

But Alex’s mind kept tallying the changes in the man beside him. Alex might be poor but as someone who was exposed to the internet, he knew things, especially luxurious things, since he had always dreamed of someday turning his errand website into an online luxury store.

“If I can’t have them, then I’ll sell them.” That was what he always told himself.

Uncle Tony’s cologne was in the niche fragrance category and no doubt was super expensive.

On Uncle Tony’s wrist was a $100,000 Rolex Daytona, a customized limited edition. His suit was roughly $60,000 and his shoe, from the little glimpse Alex could see, was a limited edition Ambrogio shoe with exotic crocodile skin. No doubt, that shoe cost over twenty grand.

And of course there was the fact that he was driving a $500,000 Bentley Flying Spur.

Having done the quick mental math of all this in his head, Alex could tell that the uncle Tony he'd known years ago who, just like his father, didn't have up to $50,000 in his bank account, had become a very wealthy man.

This brought one thing to Alex's mind:

The business his father and Uncle Tony had ventured into had paid off massively, just as his father always told him then that it would.

His father had always said that once the deal went through everything will change for them for the better.

It was too much of a coincidence that right on the cusp of that deal his father had died, uncle Tony and the other business partner had disappeared, and now that he'd found him again, he was super rich.

Conspiracy theories rose up within him. In his mind, this meant one thing: his parents didn’t die a natural death.

Someone must have done something to take them out of the picture, most likely to steal their money.

Uncle Tony was his first suspect.

He cautioned his wild thoughts once again. He had pressing matters to deal with. And he couldn't risk exposing his suspicions to uncle Tony just yet, he had to play ball. For now.

The man noticed Alex lost in his thoughts and he became amused. His once young and childish godson was now a young man sizing him up from head to toe.

He couldn't help but chuckle as he asked,

“A penny for your thoughts Alex?”

Alex blinked, realising he'd been silent for a while.

“I'm sorry for my absentmindedness, sir; I just have… things on my mind.”

The man nodded, understanding. Then he raised an eyebrow.

“I almost didn't recognize you in this costume of yours, is there a backstory I'd like to know?”

Alex forced a laugh, hiding away the pain that the reminder of why he was wearing the costume brought.

“It was just a silly bet, Uncle Tony. I bet a friend of mine that I could get into the bank dressed like this.”

Uncle Tony laughed, shaking his head. Youths and their games, he thought to himself.

He didn't expect any less from Alex though. He'd always known the boy to be daring and very willing to take on risks.

“Well, it looks like you've won the bet. Come with me into the bank; you can wait in the reception while I tend to some matters. We can go somewhere for lunch afterwards.”

Alex nodded in agreement.

“Thank you, sir; it would be nice to catch up.”

The same security guards that had tried to kick him out opened the glass doors for him and uncle Tony. Alex couldn't help but smile.

The air inside was completely different. Heads turned. Conversations quieted. Every employee seemed to straighten in their seats, and the ripple of attention led to the tall, well-dressed Uncle Tony stepping inside.

The staff’s reaction was almost comical—if not unsettling. It wasn’t just respect; it was reverence. People bowed their heads as if a celebrity had walked in.

Alex observed, his hands buried in his pockets, his expression unreadable. He noticed how the women at the front desk adjusted their hair, smoothed their skirts, and stood just a little taller.

Uncle Tony wasn’t married, and in his mid-forties, he carried the kind of wealth and influence that made him a walking fantasy for anyone hoping for a sugar daddy.

Alex watched as one of the ladies broke formation, rushing ahead of the others to greet uncle Tony personally.

He raised his brow as he saw that uncle Tony was flirting with her as well. He definitely had an interest.

Alex's ears immediately pricked and he paid more attention as he heard what he thought was her name:

Sandra Winter.

It was indeed her, Alex found out as he paid more attention.

His account manager, who had refused to take him seriously on his call earlier.

Sandra offered to accompany uncle Tony to his destination—she'd overheard him tell her he was there to see the investment manager at the bank.

Just as uncle Tony waved him off and took a step with Sandra, another lady stepped off the elevator and headed straight for both of them, her intent evident in the way her hips swung with purpose.

“Good day, Mr. Brummer.” She sang sweetly, ignoring Sandra. “My boss is eagerly waiting for your arrival. I'm here to escort you to his—”

“Evelyn,” Sandra began with venom in her tone, “As you can see, I was already escorting Mr Brummer up to you; you didn't have to come down—”

“You're not the one to tell me what's in my job description or not.” Evelyn snapped back with equal venom. “I'm the secretary to the manager who Mr. Brummer is here to see, so get back to your receptionist desk and let me handle matters that concern me.”

Sandra looked like she wanted to claw Evelyn's eyes out. But she knew her place. She hissed and walked back to her post, muttering insults to Evelyn under her breath.

Alex was amused and surprised at this exchange but it seemed normal to uncle Tony. The man even seemed to enjoy it.

Alex just shook his head. In this world, wealth didn’t just open doors—it made people scramble to open them for you. The rest could rot, and no one would care.

He waited for uncle Tony to be led away by Evelyn before approaching Sandra and ringing the bell on her desk.

“Hello?”

She raised her head and stared daggers of icy disinterest at him.