The flirt between Amara and Adrian lasted just the first day. Adrian returned to his cold, calculated self. Not speaking.
No jokes.
No group chats.
No cafeteria banter.
He came in, sat by the window, listened, took notes, left. That was it.
Which only made him more magnetic.
Rumors grew like vines around his name. Some said he had a private driver who spoke six languages. Others claimed he had bodyguards disguised as students. A few swore they saw a tattoo behind his ear, proof that he once dated a popstar in Dubai.
None of it was confirmed.
Because Adrian never corrected any of them.
He simply existed.
And Queen's Crest bent to his silence.
By Thursday, the gossip had matured into mythology. The boy wasn't just new, he was untouchable.
---
Toni Wuraola hated silence.
She lived for noise. the chatter, the eyes, the subtle power of attention. Silence meant someone else was in control, and she couldn't stand that.
By the fourth day, she had memorized his entire timetable, noted the way he rolled his sleeves before writing, and yes, Identified his cologne. Tom Ford Oud Wood. Subtle, rich, expensive. Just like him.
Her crew, the "Crown Circle," had already developed a strategy board. Step one: engineered encounters. Step two: social proximity. Step three: emotional infiltration.
"Girl, you're acting like he's a project," Zainab said, chewing gum by the lockers.
Toni snapped her compact mirror shut. "That's because he is."
She smiled, the kind that could ruin reputations. "And projects are meant to be completed."
So she moved.
On Friday, the cafeteria buzzed with the usual chaos. heels clicking, trays clattering, gossip rising like perfume. Adrian sat at the far table near the windows, earbuds in, tapping absently on his phone.
The seat across from him was empty.
Until Toni slid into it.
"Mind if I sit?"
He looked up, one brow raised. "You already did."
"Observation skills. Impressive."
He smirked slightly, turning his phone facedown. "I like to be aware of my surroundings."
"You make it sound like a war zone."
He shrugged. "Depends on the people."
Toni leaned forward, her perfume sweet and deliberate. "Well, around here, people like to talk. Maybe you should join them."
"I prefer to listen."
"Listening's cute, but silence gets boring."
"Not for me."
Her smile flickered. She wasn't used to deflection. Boys usually stuttered around her. Adrian? He was unreadable.
She pushed her luck. "You know, most people would kill to be noticed by me."
He met her gaze, unshaken. "Good thing I'm not most people."
For a heartbeat, everything stopped. the chatter, the noise, the hum of teenage arrogance. Toni's mouth opened slightly, then closed again.
"Right," she said finally. "Challenge accepted."
She stood, flicked her hair, and left.
Adrian watched her go, lips curling just a little. He liked her confidence, even if it was sharp enough to cut glass.
---
Meanwhile, Amara Okonkwo sat two tables away, watching everything unfold like a silent chess match.
She wasn't impressed by Toni's theatrics. Queen's Crest was full of girls who thought flirting was strategy. But Amara played a different game. She didn't chase; she cornered.
Her gaze lingered on Adrian. his stillness, his precision. There was something deeper there, something practiced. He wasn't just calm. He was trained.
She sipped her smoothie, thoughtful.
By the end of lunch, she'd already hacked his name into her father's private contact database. Nothing came up. Not one file. Not one political reference.
Strange.
For someone so public, Adrian Maduako was a ghost.
That night, she texted a number saved under "Oni."
Amara: Run a trace on Adrian Maduako. Discreetly.
Oni: You paying extra for "discreetly"?
Amara: Always.
Within hours, Oni sent a reply.
Oni: Weird. I found school records, sure. But nothing older than four years. Everything before that's wiped. Like, government-wiped.
Amara: Meaning?
Oni: Meaning your new classmate isn't supposed to exist.
Amara's pulse spiked.
So he wasn't just some politician's son. He was something else, something layered, hidden, dangerous.
She smiled faintly. "Now that's interesting."
---
Friday morning, Adrian found a black envelope inside his locker.
No name. No seal. No handwriting style he recognized. Just one sentence written in red ink:
You're not the only one with secrets.
He stared at it for a long time, thumb brushing the edges of the paper.
Then he laughed softly, a sound that didn't reach his eyes.
Finally, someone in this school was worth paying attention to.
He pocketed the note and walked to the cafeteria like nothing had happened.
---
That afternoon, Queen's Crest's marble dining hall was chaos. Someone's designer smoothie had spilled across the floor. Girls screamed over tables. The air buzzed with perfume and pretension.
Adrian took his usual seat, by the window, back to the wall.
But this time, both Toni and Amara showed up. Together.
The whole cafeteria went silent.
Toni spoke first, all charm and diamonds. "Mind if we join you?"
Adrian arched a brow. "This table's getting popular."
Amara slid into the seat beside him. "That's what happens when you make a school obsessed with you."
"I didn't make anyone do anything," he said evenly.
Toni crossed her legs. "Oh please. You breathe and half the junior class faints."
He leaned back, studying them both. "So what's this? Interrogation? Alliance meeting?"
Amara tilted her head. "Maybe we're just curious."
"Or competitive," he said.
Toni's lips curved. "Can't we be both?"
He chuckled under his breath. "Dangerous combination."
"Good," Amara murmured. "Danger's fun."
Something in his expression softened. "You sound like you've tried it."
She met his eyes. "Maybe I have."
For a second, the tension between them was electric. The cafeteria's noise faded into background static.
Then, like someone had popped a bubble, Toni spoke again. "So, what's your story, Mr. Maduako? The Vice President's son thing truth or PR stunt?"
Adrian smirked. "Depends on who's asking."
"Two of the most powerful girls in this school," Toni said.
"Then I'll say this," he replied, voice low. "You both play games. I just play better."
That line hit hard.
Amara's brows lifted. Toni's jaw tightened. The room buzzed again.
When lunch ended, he stood first. "Ladies." He nodded once and walked away, leaving two stunned queens in his wake.
---
Later that night, Toni sat on her silk sheets, scrolling through her phone, replaying every word.
"He just walked away," she muttered. "No one walks away from me."
Her phone buzzed. A notification. A private message. No username. Just:
Be careful, Princess. He's not what he seems.
Her throat tightened. "Who is this?" she typed back.
No reply.
At the same moment, Amara sat on her balcony, phone in hand, scrolling through the trace results Oni had just updated. Still nothing. But now the message included one more thing, a red stamp across Adrian's record.
ACCESS DENIED.
She whispered his name under her breath. "Who are you?"
---
In his dorm room, Adrian stared at the black envelope on his desk. The red ink glowed faintly under the lamplight.
He turned it over once. Twice. Then slid it into his backpack.
Queen's Crest was supposed to be a school. But it was starting to feel like a test.
And the funny thing about tests?
He always passed them.