Chapter 1 — THE BOY WITH FIRE IN HIS EYES
1058 Words
Aderinoye International High School was the kind of elite institution where the rich sent their kids to stay out of trouble…and where trouble somehow always found them anyway. The school gates gleamed silver under the early morning sun, reflecting students in designer backpacks, royal family insignias, and the sharp pride of those born into money.
But the moment he stepped through those gates, the air shifted.
Kayden.
Every girl turned. Every boy stiffened. Teachers greeted him with fake calmness, pretending not to be terrified. Kayden wasn’t just the school’s infamous badboy—he was a rumor that breathed, a danger wrapped in perfect skin, and a legend whispered behind locked doors.
They called him Child of the Devil.
Some said it was because of the night flames swallowed his home and he walked out without a scratch. Others said it was the way his eyes flickered red whenever he fought. The bold ones said he was simply cursed.
The truth?
Not even Kayden knew.
To survive, he built a mask: cold, unreadable, dangerous. A genius who never studied. A criminal who never got caught. A boy leading a double life no one in the school could ever imagine.
He dropped his bike at the parking lot, boots hitting the ground, leather jacket slung over his shoulder. He looked like trouble. He looked like temptation. He looked like a heartbreak waiting for the right victim.
But the moment his eyes landed on her, the facade cracked—just a little.
Malia.
The new girl.
Mixed-race, caramel skinned, soft curls tied into a messy ponytail, her uniform slightly oversized like she didn’t want attention…yet somehow commanded it.
She wasn’t a billionaire heiress like most students.
She wasn’t a princess from one of the modern royal families.
She wasn’t even supposed to be in a school like this.
But her stepfather was.
Chief Adebayo Owolabi — billionaire, politician, and widely rumored criminal lord who had “reformed.” He married Malia’s mother and brought her into wealth she never asked for. Her mother tried to give her a normal life, but royalty-level riches always came with shadows.
And that morning, one of those shadows followed her.
Kayden saw it instantly — a black SUV parked where students couldn’t see. A man inside watching her.
Professional. Silent. Dangerous.
A bodyguard?
Or something worse?
Kayden clenched his jaw. He didn’t know why he cared.
He didn’t even know her.
But something about her — the softness that hid a quiet strength, the sadness she carried like a secret — tugged at him.
As she walked past, she accidentally dropped her notebook. Papers scattered — sketches, equations, random thoughts. One page landed by his boots.
He picked it up.
His eyes widened.
A blueprint.
A complicated one.
Someone had drawn the school’s security layout with shocking accuracy.
He looked up at her slowly.
She froze.
Their eyes locked — warmth meeting cold, innocence brushing fire.
“Why do you have this?” Kayden asked, voice dark and soft at once.
“That’s none of your business,” she said, her tone quiet but firm.
Kayden stepped closer. “It becomes my business when you’re planning something stupid.”
“I’m not.”
She snatched the paper from his hand.
Kayden arched an eyebrow. A genius and a liar — interesting combination.
“Relax,” he murmured. “If you’re trying to break into the school vault, you’ll need better plans.”
Her lips parted in shock. “I’m not a criminal!”
“Everyone is something,” he said. “Some of us just hide it better.”
He moved to walk away, but her voice stopped him.
“Why do people call you ‘Child of the Devil’?”
Kayden didn’t turn back.
He didn’t need to.
“Because they’re too scared to use my real name.”
“But what do you call yourself?” she pushed.
He turned slightly, eyes burning into hers.
“Someone you shouldn’t talk to.”
Then he disappeared into the crowd.
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Second period.
Students rushed through the hallway, buzzing with gossip.
Malia sat alone in the back of class, sketching quietly. She drew faces — fragmented, broken faces — like she was trying to remember someone she’d lost.
The classroom door slammed open.
Kayden walked in, late as usual. The teacher didn’t dare question him. He dropped into the seat beside her — intentionally. The class whispered.
“Why is he sitting beside her?”
“He never sits anywhere.”
“She’s dead.”
“He’s going to ruin her life.”
Maybe he would.
Maybe she didn’t mind.
Kayden leaned back in his chair, pretending not to look at her.
She pretended not to look at him too.
Mutual crush.
Immediate.
Undeniable.
Dangerous.
He noticed the bruises on her wrist where she tried to hide them.
She noticed the scar on his knuckles, still fresh.
“You fight a lot,” she whispered.
“You cry a lot,” he replied softly.
She stiffened. “I don’t.”
“You hide it well,” he said. “Not from me.”
A strange comfort settled between them — two broken pieces recognizing each other.
Kayden exhaled. “You shouldn’t sit near me.”
“Maybe I should,” she said. “You look like someone who needs a friend.”
For the first time in months…he smiled.
Barely. But it was real.
“Careful,” he warned. “Friends get hurt around me.”
“So do people around me,” she whispered back.
His eyes narrowed. “Your stepfather?”
She froze.
He saw the answer in her silence.
Before he could push further, the classroom window shattered — a bullet hole burning through the glass.
Students screamed. Teachers ducked.
Kayden grabbed Malia instantly, pulling her down, shielding her with his own body.
Outside, the black SUV sped away.
He knew what that was.
A warning.
A message.
Or a declaration of war.
When the chaos died down, Kayden leaned close to her ear and whispered:
“Whatever life you’re running from…
It just found you.”
And for the first time, Malia looked truly scared.
Not because someone shot at her…
But because the only person who could protect her now
was the boy the world called Child of the Devil.
- Writer
