Author's Note — Sweet Chase: Gangster's Heart
Hi everyone! 🌈
Before you continue reading, I just want to mention that this story contains boys' love (BL) elements. Please only read if you're comfortable with that. 💛
Along with the romance, this story also has action, suspense, and comedy, so I hope it gives you a fun and exciting experience as the plot unfolds!
I'm still new to writing on Wattpad, so if you enjoy the chapter even a little bit, it would mean a lot if you could leave a small comment — even a single word like "continue" or "nice" helps motivate me to keep writing ✨
Thank you for giving Sweet Chase: Gangster's Heart a chance! 💕
Hope you enjoy the story!
The park was a jagged patch of green stitched into the city's concrete sprawl, its edges fraying like a worn-out jacket. Late October sunlight filtered through skeletal maple trees, casting claw-like shadows across cracked gravel paths. A rusted swing set creaked in the chilly breeze, its chains groaning like a tired sigh. The sluggish river nearby carried a faint whiff of oil and damp earth, blending with the greasy aroma of a street vendor's cart, where dumplings hissed on a griddle. Kids shouted over a frisbee game in the distance, their voices sharp against the hum of crickets stirring in the dusk.
Alex stood by a splintered wooden bench, its green paint flaked to reveal gray scars. His faded black backpack, stuffed with textbooks and a half-dead laptop, dug into his shoulder, the fraying strap biting through his rumpled gray hoodie. The hoodie's hem was stained with a splash of energy drink from his last graveyard shift at the convenience store. His dark brown hair fell messily over his forehead, curling at the ends, and his hazel eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, his pale cheeks flushed from the cold.
At 22, Alex looked every bit the overworked college student—slouched, tired, and ready to collapse. *Ten-page paper due in two weeks, rent due tomorrow, and Mom hasn't texted back in a month.* His stomach twisted, a knot of stress and hunger. *Skipped lunch again. Great job, Alex.*He was mid-rant to his friends, Mia and Ben, who sprawled on the bench like they owned it. Mia, her black ponytail bouncing, grinned wickedly, her brown eyes glinting under the park's dim lamplights. Her bright red bomber jacket clashed with the muted greens and grays, and her sneakers kicked at the gravel, scattering pebbles.
"You know who *does* have time to stalk you, though?" she teased, nudging Alex's arm.
"Your gangster boyfriend."
Alex's face flared, heat crawling up his neck like a swarm of ants.
"He's *not* my boyfriend!" he snapped, voice echoing off the chain-link fence behind them. His hands flew up, gesturing wildly, as if he could swat the idea away. Ben, slouched beside Mia, snorted, pushing his round glasses up his nose. His lanky frame drowned in a baggy green sweater, and his curly blond hair stuck out like a bird's nest.
"Dude, he's been tailing you for weeks," Ben said, smirking. "Bet he's lurking right now, all broody in that leather jacket, plotting how to sweep you off your feet."
"Shut *up*,"
Alex groaned, rubbing his temples. His heart gave an annoying lurch, and he shoved it down. *They're never gonna let this go.*
Ever since that guy—Francis, with his stupid hazel eyes and cocky grin—started showing up everywhere (outside class, at the store, even the laundromat), Mia and Ben had been relentless.
*I don't even know what I did to make him notice me.*
The thought made his chest tighten, a mix of irritation and a spark he refused to name. Mia's eyes widened suddenly, her smirk faltering.
"Uh, Alex..." She pointed behind him, her red-painted nails catching the light. Ben's face paled, his glasses slipping as he sat up straight. Before Alex could turn, Mia grabbed Ben's arm, and they bolted, sneakers kicking up gravel like startled rabbits.
"Sorry, dude, you're on your own!" Ben called, half-laughing, half-panicked, as they vanished toward the park's exit.
"Hey, guys, wait—!" Alex started, spinning around, one hand clutching his backpack strap. His words died in his throat.
"Hey, love~ Long time no see~"
The voice was smooth as whiskey, warm but edged with danger, slicing through the park's evening hum.
Francis stood ten feet away, leaning against a gnarled oak, its bark peeling like old wallpaper. He was all sharp angles and rugged charm—tall, broad-shouldered, with a black leather jacket that hugged his frame like it was tailored for trouble. His dark hair was tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, and his hazel eyes glinted with mischief, catching the fading sunlight like polished amber. A faint scar traced his left cheekbone, giving his handsome face a lived-in edge. His jeans were worn, boots scuffed, and a silver chain glinted at his neck, half-hidden by the jacket's collar.
Behind him, two men lingered—his crew. Jax, burly with a shaved head and a scar above his brow, smirked faintly. Rico, leaner with a buzzcut and a scowl, stood with arms crossed, scanning the park like a hawk. Alex's cheeks burned, his heart slamming against his ribs.
"Can you just... act *normal* for once?" he stammered, voice cracking as he threw one hand up, the other pressing against his chest to calm his racing pulse.
The air felt thicker, charged with Francis's presence—leather, faint cologne, and that maddening confidence.
"You scared the soul out of me!"
Francis pushed off the tree, boots crunching gravel with deliberate slowness. His grin widened, predatory yet warm, savoring every twitch of Alex's flustered expression.
"Aww, spooked you, love?" he teased, closing the gap in three strides. He towered over Alex's slighter frame, his shadow swallowing the smaller man's. "Maybe if you weren't thinking about me all day, I wouldn't keep popping up."
Alex's jaw dropped, his voice hitting a pitch he didn't recognize. "Thinking about you?" He gestured wildly, his backpack bouncing. *As if I'd waste brain cells on this... gangster!* But his face betrayed him, flushing pink under Francis's gaze.
"I was talking about my assignment, you jerk!" He took a step back, sneakers skidding on gravel. Francis chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down Alex's spine. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Alex's forehead. His calloused fingers lingered, warm against Alex's chilled skin, and Alex's breath hitched.
"Sure, love. Your assignment." His tone dripped with mock belief, eyes dancing. "Funny, 'cause I know it's not due for another week."
*How does he know that?* Alex's mind spun, his heart pounding louder than the crickets. He took another step back, catching on a tree root, but Francis matched it, grabbing Alex's waist. The touch was firm, possessive, but gentle enough to make Alex freeze.
"Ah ah, where do you think you're running off to?" Francis said, pulling Alex closer until their chests nearly touched. His breath was warm on Alex's nape, sending a jolt through him.
"I thought we were gonna talk." Alex's legs twitched, urging him to run, but Francis's grip was unyielding, a tether he couldn't shake. "Let me go!" he shouted, flailing, his voice echoing off the swing set.
"Guys, don't leave me with this pervert!" He craned his neck, but Mia and Ben were gone, their laughter fading. *Traitors.*
His phone buzzed—Mia, probably, ready to tease him into oblivion. He pushed against Francis's chest, but it was like shoving a brick wall. Francis's grin didn't waver. "No one's saving you from me, love," he whispered, lips brushing Alex's ear. The heat made Alex's skin prickle, and he hated how his body didn't pull away. "You won't be leaving me anytime soon." His hand slid up Alex's back, a possessive caress that sent Alex's heart into overdrive.
" Fine, fine, I give up!" Alex huffed, slumping in Francis's hold. His cheeks were scarlet, and he couldn't meet those hazel eyes. *Why is he so intense?* "But why? Why are you doing this to me?" His voice softened, almost pleading, as he looked up, catching a flicker of something softer in Francis's gaze.
Alex straightened, heart pounding but resolve hardening. "Seriously, Francis, what's your deal?" he demanded, voice steadier now. "Why are you so obsessed with me? I'm just some random college kid. What do you want?" His hazel eyes locked onto Francis's, searching for answers, even as his stomach churned with nerves.
*He's gotta have a reason. Nobody just... does this. *Francis's smirk faltered, his eyes darkening with something raw—regret, maybe, or pain. He let go of Alex's waist, stepping back just enough to give him space, but his gaze never wavered.
"You really wanna know?" His voice was quieter, rougher, like he was peeling back a layer he'd kept hidden. "First time I saw you, outside that bakery, you were... different. Not scared, not impressed, just... you." He ran a hand through his hair, the silver chain at his neck glinting.
"Reminded me of someone I couldn't save." He paused, jaw tightening, then forced a smirk. "Plus, you're cute when you're mad."
Alex's breath caught. *Someone he couldn't save?* The words hung heavy, stirring curiosity and unease. *What's that supposed to mean?* Before he could press, Jax snorted behind them, muttering, "Boss, you're getting sappy already?"
Rico shot Jax a glare, his hand still near his jacket pocket, eyes scanning the shadows. Francis's grin returned, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Point is, love, you're mine now—whether you like it or not." He brushed a strand of hair from Alex's face, thumb lingering on his cheek, warm against the evening chill. Alex's heart pounded, torn between curiosity and the urge to bolt. *He's dodging, but... there's something real there.* He glanced at Jax and Rico, their presence a stark reminder of Francis's world. Jax was smirking, but Rico's scowl and twitchy hands screamed trouble. *Who are these guys? Why's that one so jumpy?
Alex swallowed, stepping back but holding Francis's gaze. "Okay, fine, you're obsessed. Whatever." He jerked his chin toward Jax and Rico, voice sharp. "But who are *they*? Your bodyguards or something? Why's that guy acting like we're about to get jumped?" His eyes flicked to Rico, whose buzzcut head tilted, scanning the bushes like a predator.
Francis's expression tightened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. He glanced at Rico, who gave a curt nod, then back at Alex. "Jax and Rico? They're my brothers, not just muscle." His voice was low, protective. "Jax is the loudmouth—keeps things light. Rico... he's got my back, always."
He hesitated, then added, "We've had some trouble lately. Rival crew doesn't like me skipping meets to chase a certain someone." His smirk returned, but it was strained, and his eyes flicked to the shadows, mirroring Rico's vigilance.
Alex's stomach dropped. *Rival crew? Skipped meets?* The park's air felt colder, the vendor's sizzling cart and kids' shouts fading into the background. "Trouble?" he asked, voice quieter. "Like... what kind of trouble?" His mind raced—gangs, fights, things he'd only seen in movies. *What am I getting into?
*Francis stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "Nothing you need to worry about, love. Not while I'm here." His hand grazed Alex's arm, grounding but possessive. Rico muttered something to Jax, who laughed, but the sound was tense, like they were waiting for something to go wrong.
A rustle in the bushes made Rico's hand dart inside his jacket, his scowl deepening. Francis's eyes flicked toward the sound, his smirk gone.
"Stay close, love," he murmured, tone soft but edged with steel. Jax cracked his knuckles, grinning like he was itching for a fight, but it was just the stray dog from earlier, scampering off with a stolen dumpling.
Alex's breath caught, his hunger forgotten as his pulse raced. *This is way bigger than some guy flirting with me.* His stomach growled, loud and embarrassing, snapping the tension. Francis's grin returned, full force. "Sounds like you need more than a talk," he teased, stepping closer. "How about food? My treat."
Alex hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of panic and curiosity. *I should run. He's trouble—him and his creepy crew.* But his stomach growled again, and Francis's gaze—half-teasing, half-sincere—made his resolve waver.
*Maybe I can figure him out over food. Keep my guard up.* "Fine," he muttered, crossing his arms. "But only because I'm starving, not because I like you or anything. Got it?" Francis laughed, a rich sound that warmed the chilly air. "Got it, love. You're just here for the food." He winked, gesturing toward the park's exit, where neon lights spilled from the city streets. "Come on, there's a cafe nearby. Best milkshakes in town." He started walking, his boots thudding on gravel, and Alex followed, heart still racing. *What am I doing?*The cafe was a cozy hole-in-the-wall, its neon "Open" sign flickering in the dusk.
Inside, the air smelled of roasted coffee and warm pastries, the walls lined with faded posters of old rock bands—Nirvana, The Ramones, their faces peeling at the edges. Vinyl booths squeaked as Alex slid into one, his backpack thumping to the floor beside him. The table was sticky with old syrup, and a jukebox in the corner hummed a scratchy tune, barely audible over the clink of dishes.
Francis sat across from him, leather jacket creaking, his hazel eyes locked on Alex like he was the only thing in the room. Jax and Rico took a table near the door, Rico's eyes scanning the windows, his hand resting near his jacket pocket.
Alex grabbed the laminated menu, clutching it like a shield. *Don't blush. Don't look at him.* His phone buzzed—Mia's text: *"Spill! Is he as hot up close?"* He groaned, shoving it into his hoodie pocket. Francis leaned forward, elbows on the table, smirking.
"Trying to hide, love? Your stomach's louder than your protests."
"You're evil," Alex muttered, cheeks flaming as his stomach growled again. He flagged the waiter, a bored guy with a lip piercing, and his voice came out shaky.
"Chocolate milkshake with ice, double chocolate cake, please." He glanced at Francis, daring him to order. Francis raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Chocolate for dinner?" He chuckled, ordering a black coffee, his voice smooth as the jukebox's tune. "You're something else, darlin'. Sweetest teeth in the world." The waiter shuffled off, and Francis's gaze softened, his scarred cheek catching the neon glow.
"You asked why I'm obsessed," he said, voice low, almost drowned by the jukebox. "Truth is, you're not like anyone else in this city. You don't run scared, but you don't bow either. That's rare." He paused, thumb brushing the edge of his coffee cup, though it hadn't arrived yet. "And... you remind me of someone I lost. Someone I couldn't protect."
Alex's heart skipped. *Lost?* The word hung heavy, stirring questions he wasn't sure he wanted answered. *Who was it? Why's he telling me this?* He shifted in the booth, the vinyl squeaking, his fingers fidgeting with the menu's edge. Before he could speak, Rico's phone buzzed at the other table, and he muttered, "The other gang's circling. We gotta move soon."
Francis's jaw tightened, but he waved Rico off, eyes fixed on Alex. Alex's stomach churned, not just from hunger but from the weight of Rico's words. *Other gang? Circling?* The cafe's warmth felt stifling now, the jukebox's hum too loud. He glanced at the window, where the city's neon lights flickered like warning signals. *I'm in way over my head... but why can't I just leave?*
The waiter returned, sliding a frosty milkshake and a towering slice of chocolate cake across the table. The cake's frosting gleamed under the cafe's lights, rich and glossy, and Alex's mouth watered despite himself. He took a sip of the milkshake, the cold chocolate hitting his tongue like a small salvation, but his eyes stayed on Francis. Those hazel eyes, that scarred cheek, that infuriating grin—they were trouble, but they were also... something else. Something that made his chest ache.
Francis leaned back, sipping his coffee, his gaze never leaving Alex. "Eat up, love," he said, voice soft but teasing. "But don't think this gets you off the hook. We're talking more—about you, me, and why you're not running as fast as you should."
**End of Chapter 1**
Alex's fork hovered over the cake, his mind racing. *He's dangerous, but he's... real.* The cafe's warmth clashed with the chill of Rico's warning, and the jukebox's tune faded into a tense hum. *What's this other gang? And why does he look at me like I'm his whole world?* He took a bite of cake, the sweetness grounding him, but Francis's gaze held him tighter than any grip. *I'm not falling for this... right?*