A few weeks earlier~
"Get out of here you rat bastard!" The restaurant owner pushed a reluctant Wes towards the front door.
"Aww, c'mon man, I was gonna pay this time!"
"Hmph." He shoved Wes out the door and into the street, locking the door behind him.
"No! I swear I'm good for it, see!" He pulled a couple of bills out of a black wallet and pressed them against the clear door. In response, the owner simply shut the blinds.
"Hey! That's my wallet!" A man much larger than Wes shouted from across the street.
"Yeah, and your watch!" Wes flashed the shiny piece on his wrist and took off running.
"I'm gonna kill you, you little punk!" The man sprinted after him.
"Uh oh, he's kind of fast." Wes laughed nervously and ducked in an ally behind a building to hide. He hadn't expected the guy to actually chase after him like this. The ones wearing a nice suit usually never do. You could say it was beneath them.
He remained hidden for a couple of minutes and let his breathing calm. It was weird. The guy had been shouting while running after him, but now it was dead silent. "Oh well," he stood up from where he was crouching and stretched his back, deciding he was ultimately good to go after hearing nothing but silence. The man had probably just ran too far away, or had given up and called the police instead.
"Growl."
"Ugh. Now I really am hungry." He placed a hand on his grumbling stomach and sauntered towards the end of the ally. He flipped through the bills he had bummed and placed them in his secret pocket. The guy had been a little trouble, sure, but he was loaded on cash. Maybe he'd splurge and go to that spicy chicken joint tonight! Just thinking about that delicious hot chicken put a smile on his face.
"Hahaha…uff." He turned the corner and promptly ran into something cold and hard.
"Gotcha." A man with a scar across his right eye sneered.
"Uh… who are you?" Wes raised an eyebrow, unamused, "and why are you pointing a gun at me?" He tapped the barrel.
"This punk." He clinched his right hand like he was about to throw a punch.
"That's quite enough, Mark." The business man, who Wes had thought he evaded, walked up and rested his hand on the scar guy's shoulder.
"Sorry, Misha." He lowered his gun.
Shit.
"I'm so sorry, uhh… sir. I had no idea this was your wallet." Wes nervously laughed and tucked the wallet back into the man's right pocket. He never would've taken it if he knew this guy had been some sort of gangster! He looked like he worked in a bank or as an accountant or something. This was very unfortunate.
"What about my watch?" He tapped his wrist unamused.
"Oh, right." He unfasted the watch from his wrist and carefully wrapped it back around the man's. "You know, I have a watch just like this. I guess I got confused haha." A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead.
"You put it on my right, when I wear my watch on the left."
"Oh, oops. I thought I took it off the…"
Misha's brow furrowed.
"I mean, I like to wear my watch on my right. Silly mistake." He grabbed his arm and began taking the watch off, so he could put it on the proper side.
"That's not the only thing that's bothering me." He roughly grabbed Wes's wrist and squeezed it hard, making the smaller man yelp. "You see, I don't recall my solid gold watch ever feeling so light."
"Maybe you got stronger?" Wes shrugged, trying to yank his wrist free from his strong grasp.
"I appreciate you noticing, but I don't think that's the case. Snimi s nego odezhdu (strip him)."
"He…hey, what did he say?! He nervously backed away from the 5 men now walking towards him.
"Eek! What are you guys doing?"
—
"Is this really necessary guys?" Wes shivered, at least they left his underwear on.
"Ha! I found it." One of the goons pulled a wad of cash out of the secret zipper hidden in Wes's jeans.
"What?! HoW dId ThAt GeT iN tHeRe?!" He brought his hands to his face like he was shocked. At least they wouldn't find the watch. He'd be able to sell it for more than what he'd made from the wallet, that cash was just a bonus."
"I found the watch too!" The scar dude, or Mark, pulled the bottom of Wes's sneaker off, revealing the hidden compartment.
Wes had come up with that little hack in high school. You could store your things and it gave you a height boost. It was a win win. Well… not so much now that they found it.
"He sure is a sneaky bastard." Misha chuckled.
"Hey, just so you know, that's patent pending." He crossed his arms and looked off to the side. "Shit. What am I going to do?" His face paled. He should've just given the stuff back, why'd he have to go and replace the money with paper and give the dude a fake watch.
Misha laughed, and the rest of the guys followed suit.
"Ha ha haha?" Wes nervously joined in.
"Udar' yego (beat him)."
—
"Ha!" Alexander watched the scene unfold from across the street, his lips curled into a smile.
"What are you thinking about, Boss?" His underling, Lev, looked at him with confusion.
"He's very amusing, isn't he?" The two watched as Wes raised both his arms and a leg up.
"You guys better watch out! I took two years of karate! I'm an orange… I mean, black belt!" Wes shouted at Mark, who was now approaching him with clenched fists.
"Hahaha!" Alexander folded over from laughing so hard.
"B…boss?!" Lev jumped in surprise.
"He's the one."
"But, but, he's a guy?!" Lev shouted. "Are you thinking clearly?"
"Huh?" Alexander's eyes narrowed. His cheerful expression had all but vanished.
"Uhh… What I mean to say, Boss, and by no disrespect, don't you need an heir by this year, or else control reverts to Mikhail?"
"Who says he can bear me one?" He gestured to Wes who was currently on the ground being kicked in the stomach.
"Science?"
"Psh. I'll fly in the best geneticists from all over the world! Piece of cake. What else?" He laughed proudly.
"Death?" His eyes wandered over to the beaten man that had stopped trying to reason with his attackers and now laid motionless.
"What?!" Alexander got a wild look in his eye and rushed over to where the situation was unfolding.
"Huh? Boss?" He roughly shoved the underling that had been kicking Wes out of the way and scooped up the body.
"This is how you treat the Madam?!" His face turned red as he shouted at the underlings.
"This thief is no Madam."
"Misha… you!" He stormed over to where his younger brother was standing. An arrogant grin decorated his face.
"I think we should get him to a hospital, Boss." Lev nervously tugged on Alexander's sleeve. He was worried about what would happen if this guy actually died. His boss never seemed to care for anyone one much, not even his own blood, and especially not a stranger. It was weird to say the least.
"You're right." He looked down at Wes's beaten face grimly and grit his teeth. "Tch." He began walking away from the scene with the younger man in his arms. "Tell Igor to come quickly, and book a private room while you're at it."
"Right away, Boss." Lev pressed his earpiece and began reciting the boss's orders.
"Ungh… What's going on?" Wes groaned, the jostling from Alexander's movements had woken him up a bit.
"Shh, I'm taking you to the hospital little fox." A large hand gently brushed against his face.
"Ngh… feels nice." He flashed his blood stained teeth and passed out again.