Scandalous Heirs

Chapter Five: The Frame

The white stretch limo purred to a halt at the school gates like it had every right to block traffic. Jordan stepped out first, morning sun sliding warm across her bare legs beneath the crisp pleated skirt. The driver gave a curt nod before gliding away, leaving behind the faint scent of rich leather and polish that clung to the air like expensive smoke.

Friday slid out behind her, adjusting the strap of her bag with a small, resigned sigh. They fell into step toward the main building, heels clicking in perfect sync against the sun-warmed pavement. The campus smelled of fresh-cut grass and the low diesel hum of idling buses.

Friday glanced sideways, voice soft but insistent. “Come on, Jords… think about it. Do you really think it’s necessary hurting each other without even knowing the real reason?” Her brows creased, worry carving a deeper line between them. “Hmm?”

Jordan kept her eyes fixed forward, ponytail swaying with each measured step. “My mom knows why this whole thing happens.”

Friday exhaled sharply through her nose. “Jords… really, girl. Look at this mess. He killed your dog—for what? You destroyed his notebook—for what? I mean… for no reason.”

Jordan rolled her eyes so hard the motion pulled a sharp ache behind her temples. “Ah, I don’t care. He irritates me.”

Friday’s smile was small, knowing—too knowing. “No, he doesn’t. It’s just what your mind got used to believing.”

Jordan didn’t answer. She felt the ghost-weight of Rio’s red leash still tucked inside her bag, heavy even though it was folded small. “Either way… he’ll pay for Rio’s death. Triple.”

Friday shook her head, voice dropping quieter. “I know you’ll realize one day this whole rivalry thing ain’t worth it.”

The words hung between them, unanswered.

Then the car park exploded.

A deep roar of engines rolled in, followed by cheers, whistles, phones snapping up like signal flags. Students surged toward the center of the lot in a chaotic tide, voices overlapping in excited waves.

Jordan and Friday turned.

A matte-black Bugatti Chiron Pur Sport crouched low and lethal in the middle of the asphalt, scissor doors lifted like black wings, carbon-fiber body drinking the sunlight until it gleamed obsidian. The most expensive thing on campus—by several continents.

Friday let out a low whistle. “Wow… whose damn car is that?”

Jordan’s jaw tightened. She already knew.

Leonel Virell stepped out—black fitted shirt hugging the breadth of his shoulders, sleeves rolled to the elbows, watch catching light like a blade on his wrist. His cologne hit the air before he did: dark cedar, smoke, something dangerously expensive. Students swarmed closer, videos rolling, flashes popping. He didn’t smile. Just scanned the crowd once—eyes landing on Jordan for half a heartbeat. Long enough to burn.

She scoffed, turned on her heel. “Still staring… really? You don’t know that car?”

Friday laughed under her breath. “Girl, you’re obsessed.”

Jordan walked faster toward the lockers, pulse loud in her ears.

She stopped at her usual spot, leaned against the cool metal, arms crossed. Waiting.

Two boys approached. Zachary Levi first—hoodie up, eyes down like he wanted to vanish into the floor. Alexander Martin behind him, stride confident, grin easy despite the flicker of nerves in his eyes.

Jordan sighed. “What took you guys so long?”

Alexander jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Checking out Leo’s new ride.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “Ah, whatever.”

Zachary folded his hands in front of him, voice low. “You said you needed to talk to us.”

Jordan nodded, glanced around—no one close enough to overhear. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Yeah… I told you I’d give you each ten thousand.”

Alexander’s grin faltered at the edges. “Yeah, we know about the money.”

Jordan leaned in closer, the sharp scent of hallway floor polish stinging her nose.

“I chose you two because, Zachary—you’re the quietest, most humble guy in class. Teachers actually listen when you speak. Alexander—you’re confident, you stand out, and people believe you when you talk.”

Zachary shifted his weight. “Get to the point. Bell’s about to ring.”

Jordan tsked. “Okay, quick. I want you to frame Leonel Virell for using leakage during the math test today.”

Both boys blinked.

Zachary’s voice cracked. “What the hell, Azul? No way I’m doing that.”

Jordan stepped forward, pressed a single finger to his lips. “Shhh—stop screaming.” She scanned the hall again, heart thudding. “You destroyed one of the school laptops last month and you’re terrified of your parents finding out. Zachary… this is the only way you fix it without them knowing.”

Zachary swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “What if he finds out it was us?”

“He won’t. Just relax.”

Alexander tilted his head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “How exactly are we doing this?”

Jordan explained fast, voice barely above a breath. “I’ll get a copy of the test questions ahead of time. I’ll write the correct answers on a spare sheet, print it clean, then slip it into Leo’s locker. You two just go to Mr. Kane after the test and say you saw him copying from leakage.”

Alexander nodded slowly. “So we’re only telling the teacher we saw him with it?”

Jordan: “Exactly.”

Zachary rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s… simple. But what if—”

Jordan cut him off. “He won’t. After school—your payment.”

She turned and walked toward class, leaving them staring after her.

The bell rang. Students flooded the corridors.

Jordan sat at her desk, math textbook open, pretending to review formulas she’d memorized weeks ago. Leo strolled past, close enough that cedar-smoke cologne wrapped around her like a taunt.

“Hope you made a grand funeral for your dog,” he muttered, smirking. “Cause girl, you cried your ass out on that sidewalk.”

Jordan’s throat closed instantly. Rio’s face flashed—crumpled body, glassy eyes, blood warm and spreading across her white shirt. Tears pricked hot and sudden. She blinked them back fiercely, stared straight ahead.

Leo sat down. The smirk faded from his face.

Minutes later Mr. Kane strode in with the stack of test papers.

“Start writing. No talking.”

The room fell silent except for the scratch of pencils and the occasional cough.

Mr. Kane paced between rows. “Results will be posted on the notice board tomorrow morning. First things first.”

Forty-five minutes later:

“Time. Pens down. Stand up.”

He collected the papers with soft, methodical thuds.

Break time erupted. Jordan slipped away in the chaos, printed sheet folded tiny in her pocket. She waited until Leo was distracted—laughing low with Tommy by the water fountain—then drifted past his locker, popped it open (no lock, arrogant as ever), and slid the paper between two textbooks. She caught Zachary and Alexander’s eyes across the hall and gave a tiny wink.

Alexander took a deep breath. “Fww… we got this.”

Zachary swallowed. Nodded once.

They headed toward Mr. Kane’s office.

Break ended. Everyone filed back in. No teacher yet—just low chatter.

Jordan sat with Harriet near the window. “I’ll be shooting for Oasis on Friday after school, so I might miss the movie.”

Harriet groaned. “Come on… working on a Friday?”

“Oasis always has new drops to advertise. No breaks.”

Across the room:

Leonel to Tommy: “Dad says it’s time I get used to these things. I didn’t want the gala, but he said compulsory.”

Tommy: “What you wearing?”

Leonel sighed. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Mr. Kane appeared in the doorway.

“Virell. My office. Now.”

He turned and left.

Tommy: “You got an appointment or something?”

Leonel shook his head, confused. Stood. Walked out.

Jordan kept chatting with her friends, expression innocent as fresh snow.

In Mr. Kane’s office:

“Take a seat.”

Leonel sat. “Do you know why I’m here, sir?”

Mr. Kane: “Two pupils reported seeing you copying during the test.”

Leonel blinked. “What?”

Mr. Kane: “You know exactly what I mean.”

Leonel: “Sir, who reported me?”

Mr. Kane: “I’d prefer to keep identities protected.”

Leonel: “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mr. Kane stood. “They saw you place leakage in your locker.”

Leonel: “My locker???”

Mr. Kane: “If I search it now and find nothing, we’re done. But if I find anything… regardless of your family name, you get a zero. Let’s go.”

Leonel stood. “Sure.”

They walked to the locker. Leo opened it.

Mr. Kane rifled through—books, pens, a hoodie.

Then a single printed sheet fluttered to the floor.

Leonel stared, color draining from his face. “Sir… I didn’t do this. Someone framed me.”

Mr. Kane picked it up, expression hard. “I already explained the consequences.”

He walked away with the paper.

Leonel: “Sir, please—you have to believe—”

Mr. Kane disappeared around the corner.

Leonel punched the locker door. Metal dented with a dull clang. He slammed it shut.

Hours later—final bell.

Hallway thick with students heading out.

Jordan leaned against the wall, texting, back to the lockers.

Leonel appeared fast—grabbed her shoulders, shoved her back hard. Metal clanged against her spine.

She gasped.

He leaned in close, voice low and lethal. “I know you did this.”

Jordan blinked up at him, wide-eyed innocence. “What are you talking about?”

Leonel’s grip tightened, fingers digging into her shoulders. “Don’t play dumb with me.” His eyes burned into hers—close enough she could see the flecks of gold in the brown, smell that cedar-smoke cologne wrapping around her again. “I know it was you…”

Jordan: “Leo… what’s wrong with you?”

He held her gaze one heartbeat longer—long enough the air between them crackled—then released her abruptly. Turned and walked away without finishing the threat.

Jordan bent slowly, picked up her phone from the floor where it had fallen.

She stared after him.

Her hand shook—just a little.