Monday – 8:05 AM – St. Helena High
Vincent hadn't even walked into the building before chaos found him.
"Hey, Mafia Boy!"
Mina Vega, captain of the cheer squad and queen of unnecessary drama, popped out from behind a tree near the gates—yes, literally a tree—and threw a glittery notebook at his chest.
He caught it. Barely.
"What the hell is this?"
"It's a Burn Book," she said like it was self-explanatory. "We're documenting the most dangerous relationships in school this semester. You and Adriana are currently ranked #1. Just above Kael and his illegal motorcycle racing ring."
Vincent blinked. "I'm being ranked… for dating?"
"Fake dating. But yeah. You're so in."
Before he could respond, she was gone, twirling away like she'd just performed her moral duty for the day.
Vincent sighed.
New week, same circus.
-
Inside the Building
He found Adriana near her locker, flanked by two of her usual shadows: Leo and Rafi, looking like backup dancers for a Bond villain.
She wore a black hoodie over a tight white shirt, plaid skirt, knee-high boots, and an aura that said 'Don't ask me about my weekend unless you enjoy being hospitalized'.
Vincent sidled up beside her. "Morning, sunshine."
She didn't look at him. "How's the frostbite?"
"Mostly emotional. Partially ego-related."
That got her attention.
Adriana's lips quirked, just slightly. "You did good. Saturday night."
"Oh, you mean hiding in a freezer with the girl who might get me killed? Yeah. Pretty solid weekend plans."
"Vincent."
Her voice dropped, suddenly serious.
"I need to know. Are you still in?"
He looked at her.
At the weight behind her eyes.
The girl who led gangs with a nod. Who wore daggers like jewelry. Who could make a grown man confess with just a look.
And who, somehow, still looked human when she whispered, "You can leave. I wouldn't blame you."
He reached for the lock on her locker and spun the numbers she'd once accidentally said aloud during a bored afternoon tutoring session.
Click.
Open.
"I'm in," he said. "Besides… I kinda like the chaos."
-
Calculus Class
Detention was not something Vincent usually got.
But that changed when Kael—the walking gym ad in human form—"accidentally" knocked over a desk during Calculus and claimed it was Vincent's fault.
Mr. Delaney didn't even hesitate.
"Detention. Both of you."
"But—"
"Both. Of. You."
Adriana watched from the back of the room with a look that said: If Kael touches you, I'll stab him where it counts.
Vincent mouthed back, Don't make it obvious.
She mouthed back, Too late.
-
Lunch – Cafeteria Jungle
St. Helena's cafeteria was a social minefield on a good day.
Today, it was explosive.
Vincent and Adriana walked in together, and the room practically froze.
Whispers.
Side-eyes.
A kid from the sophomore class dropped his sandwich.
Leo appeared from nowhere, scooped it off the floor, handed it back to him, and said, "You didn't see anything. Got it?"
The kid nodded like his life depended on it. It probably did.
Vincent sat beside Adriana, trying not to act like everyone was staring.
She opened a thermos, handed it to him.
"What is this?"
"Tomato soup. My version. Garlic, basil, little chili."
"You cook?"
"I kill and I cook. Duality."
He sipped.
Paused.
"Okay. This might be the best soup I've ever had."
"I know."
Then she added, casually: "Also, don't drink too fast. I poisoned the first batch and had to remake it."
He choked. She grinned.
-
Detention Room
Kael sat in the back of the room like he owned it. Muscle, smirk, and testosterone.
Vincent took the seat by the window, ignoring him.
Ten minutes of silence passed.
Then Kael leaned forward. "You really think you're gonna survive dating her?"
Vincent didn't answer.
Kael went on. "She's not a girl, dude. She's a hurricane. Ask the last guy who tried to own her."
"I'm not trying to own her."
"Right," Kael said with a snort. "You're the 'different' one."
Vincent clenched his jaw. "You got a problem with me?"
"Yeah. You breathe too much."
Before Vincent could move, Kael grabbed his arm, twisted—
—and found a fountain pen jabbed into his hand.
Adriana stood at the door.
Rafi behind her.
Leo in the hallway.
"Oops," she said. "Wasn't on the calendar, but I thought I'd drop in."
Kael hissed and yanked the pen out. "Crazy bitch."
She leaned close, whispering something no one else could hear.
Kael's face paled.
He stood. Walked out without another word.
Mr. Delaney never even noticed.
Adriana sat beside Vincent.
He stared. "What did you say to him?"
"Trade secret."
Then: "I told him if he touched you again, I'd mail his teeth to his mother. Individually. In perfume boxes."
"Please tell me you're joking."
Adriana gave him a wink. "Sure."
-
Adriana's Apartment - Top Floor
Adriana let him into her place for the first time.
Vincent expected something lavish. Mafia-level opulence.
Instead, it was sharp. Modern. Cold.
Walls like concrete. Furniture black leather. A huge shelf stacked with books on philosophy, strategy, and vintage cookbooks.
The girl who ruled the school… lived like a soldier.
"You live alone?" he asked.
"My dad's overseas. Alex watches from distance. I handle this end."
"Why let me in?"
She paused by the window.
Then, without looking at him:
"Because you need to know who I am… before someone else tells you first."
Flashback – Adriana (Age 10)
The room was on fire.
Not metaphorically.
Literally burning.
Screams. Smoke. The heat so intense it felt like knives under her skin.
She sat in the center. Unmoving. Eyes wide.
Next to her, a man bled out from the neck.
Alex stood at the doorway.
"Come on," he yelled. "Adriana, come on!"
She looked down at the knife in her hand.
Blood on the hilt.
Her first.
She stood slowly.
"I'm ready now."
Alex hesitated.
Then nodded.
"You were born ready."
-
Back to Present
Adriana didn't tell him that story.
Not yet.
But it was in her eyes as she said, "I've done things, Vincent. I'm not just danger-adjacent. I am danger."
He looked at her—really looked.
Not just the beauty. Not just the reputation.
But the cracks.
The shadow beneath her brilliance.
"You scare me," he said honestly.
"Good."
"But I'm still not leaving."
-
A corkboard full of photos.
Strings. Maps. Flames flickering from a nearby barrel.
Bishop smiled.
"I remember the girl you were, Adriana."
He pinned a new photo to the wall.
Vincent.
Taped beneath it: Leverage.