The Rise of Alexander Black (the Errand Boy)!

Chapter 8

The city’s air tasted different when Alex stepped out of the bank—sweeter, fresher, laced with a buzz that only the wealthy understood. He wasn't just some broke, errand-running clown anymore. He was now the secret owner of Heritage Finance Bank, and with $10 million resting quietly in his account, the world suddenly looked like his playground.

Still, despite the triumph swelling in his chest, his heart was not without its tremors. Uncle Tony’s cryptic remarks had shaken something loose inside him. And Sandra’s quiet warning had left him a little unsettled. Something was brewing. And then, there was Gwen.

The thought of her made him grin. Gwen, with her sharp tongue, soft curls, and mysterious allure—she was nothing like Emily. Emily may have dropped him like trash that morning, but now, a girl far more beautiful and influential wanted to go on a date with him. And even more intriguing, Gwen might hold keys to the secrets surrounding his parents’ deaths.

But first things first: he needed to ditch the damn clown costume.

His destination: New York City Shopping Center—a haven for the rich, a fortress for the elite. As he stepped inside, the icy eyes of security guards darted his way. Dressed in oversized clown shoes and a ridiculous hat, he stuck out like a sore thumb in a luxury mall where customers came in Rolls-Royces and walked out with shopping bags heavier than college tuition.

“Hey, you! Where do you think you’re going?” one of the guards barked.

Alex didn’t flinch. Instead, he dipped his head like a street performer, did a spin, and dashed forward into the massive complex.

“Stop that clown!”

But Alex was quick. He ducked past perfume counters, slid beneath velvet ropes, and finally slipped through the glass doors of La’Crème, the most exclusive fashion boutique in the center.

Inside, the world changed.

Gold-edged chandeliers shimmered from above. Mannequins wore tuxedos worth more than Alex’s entire past life. Suits, silk shirts, diamond-studded cufflinks—every item screamed luxury.

He wandered deeper into the boutique, hypnotized.

“Insane,” he whispered, fingers brushing a tailored midnight-blue suit. The tag read $23,500.

Then, suddenly—

“Seriously?! You’re stalking me now?”

He turned. And there she was.

Emily. And beside her, Dustin Walts, smug as ever in his designer hoodie and matching ego.

Before he could speak, Emily’s palm struck his shoulder. “Answer me! Why are you following us?”

Alex blinked once, then chuckled. “Emily, you think too highly of yourself. I’m here to shop.”

Dustin let out a scoff. Emily’s face twisted with disbelief. “Shop? Here? In that ridiculous costume?”

Alex shrugged. “Needed something new. Tonight’s kind of important.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Important? Don’t tell me you think you’re attending the Chancellor’s birthday party.”

Alex smiled but didn’t respond. Dustin stepped forward, mouth curving with mock sympathy. “Oh buddy… You do think you’re going, huh?”

A salesgirl, sensing the commotion, hurried over.

“Mr. Walts! Welcome back.” She gave a small bow of recognition, then turned to Alex, her nose wrinkling. “Sir… what exactly are you here for?”

“Shopping,” Alex replied coolly.

Emily nearly doubled over laughing. “Shopping? With what? Hope and dreams?”

The salesgirl glanced from Emily to Alex, clearly uncertain whether this was some TikTok prank.

“I’m serious,” Alex said, voice firmer now. “I’ll take three suits. One charcoal, one navy, and one white. Throw in some watches and shoes too.”

Dustin snorted. “And how are you paying? Monopoly money?”

Emily folded her arms. “Let me guess. You sold your organs on the black market?”

“Just wait,” Alex said. “You’ll see.”

Emily leaned in, eyes glinting. “You better not be trying to impress anyone. Especially not for the Chancellor’s party. You’d have to rob a bank to get something from here that’s even close to appropriate.”

Dustin added, “Besides, that event isn’t just a birthday party. My dad says it’s doubling as a meeting for top shareholders of Heritage Finance Bank. Big names will be there—including Mr. Godwin Taylor himself.”

Alex raised a brow. “Taylor?”

“President of Heritage,” Dustin said proudly. “Elite-level man. Even the Chancellor defers to him. You probably don’t even have a bank account.”

Emily snickered. “If you do, it’s probably running on life support.”

They both laughed. Alex stayed silent.

Let them talk. If only they knew.

“Anyway,” Dustin said, basking in his superiority, “there’s a whole network you poor folks don’t get. Wealthy elites use events like this to handle secret business. Strategy meetings. Investment deals. All behind champagne glasses and fake smiles. You couldn’t possibly understand.”

Alex nodded slowly, absorbing every word. They were giving him more than mockery—they were giving him intelligence.

Then, Dustin smirked. “Tell you what, Alex. If you somehow, miraculously, manage to get into that party, I’ll introduce you to some of the real players.”

Emily cackled. “As if! Even Dustin needed his dad’s connections for the invite. And he’s taking me as his plus one.”

Alex met her eyes. “I’ll be there. With a plus one of my own.”

The laughter stopped.

“You?” Dustin blinked. “You don’t even have a car. Or decent shoes.”

Alex smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll see.”

And just like that, he slipped away.

“Where the hell did he go?” Emily asked, spinning.

But Alex was gone—vanished into the maze of glass and gold.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t stress. I dated him for two months. Trust me, there’s nothing surprising about Alex—except his stupidity. I bet he’ll show up at the party dressed like this clown again.”

They linked arms and walked away.

Meanwhile, in a quiet aisle, Alex pulled out his phone.

“Godwin,” he said as the call connected. “I need a favor. I want an invite to tonight’s party. I heard there’ll be shareholders there.”

There was a pause. “Alex, are you sure?” Godwin’s voice was cautious. “You’ve just stepped into this world. If you attract attention too soon, they’ll start digging. These men aren’t harmless.”

Alex exhaled. “I get it. But I want to be there.”

A beat of silence. Then Godwin said, “Alright. I’ll get you in. But let’s play it smart. You’ll attend the party as my assistant, and I’ll act as your voice at the meeting. I’ll say the new major shareholder wants to stay anonymous.”

A slow smile spread on Alex’s face. “Perfect.”

After the call, he pulled out Gwen’s card and dialed.

She answered on the second ring. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to call.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. I’m going to the Chancellor’s birthday party tonight. Would you be my plus one?”

There was a beat, then a laugh.

“Tempting. But that’s not the date I had in mind. Besides, I’ll be there anyway—official duties. I’m going with my boss.”

Alex grinned. “Then I’ll just have to steal a few moments with you there.”

“We’ll see,” she teased. “Try not to look like a clown.”

They both laughed before the call ended.

Alex turned back to the store, picked out his suits, shoes, and accessories, and made his way to the counter.

“Will that be all, sir?” the salesgirl asked, now smiling as she scanned the labels.

“Yes,” Alex said smoothly. “Just charge everything to my Heritage Platinum Account. Under the name Alexander Black.”

The girl’s hands froze mid-scan.

“Wait… The Alexander Black?”

Alex just smiled. “The one and only.”

As he stepped out of La’Crème, bags in hand and new energy in his stride, the clown was gone.

Tonight, he would walk into the lion’s den—not as prey, but as the silent king no one saw coming.