Wentworth Academy proved to be an eerie sight into the night. Besides a dimly lit street lamp, the campus was flushed with overwhelming darkness, making Layla more uncomfortable than she already was as she waded through it.

Unfortunately, she had not registered just how big the campus actually was. That, accompanied with the impregnable night sky, meant it wasn't long before Layla found herself lost. She wished Pete had dropped her closer to the main building.

She thought back to the tour Zoe had given her but as she looked around, she was certain they hadn't covered this part of campus.

She hummed a tune as she tried to control her nerves. All she had to do was follow the students. That was all.

She breathed a sigh of relief when two guys came into view, both wearing dark coats. Layla trailed behind them, not enough to get herself noticed but just enough to hear snippets of conversation.

"Idiot. He really thought he could come back with nothing? What did he expect?"

"Charles Wentworth told him not to. There's no other way we could convince him-"

Layla froze, her stomach plummeting as it normally did when that name was mentioned.
Charles Wentworth.

The last time she had seen him, she was signing over her life to him in a contract. And now she was a prisoner at his school.

Layla realised two things as the two men continued. One, they both had a slight accent. She couldn't exactly make out what it was but the second thing she did knew for certain; they weren't students.

Too late, Layla realised they were going father and father away from the main building. Making a split-seconds decision, Layla threw caution to the wind and continued to follow them. She had to know how they were associated with him. Had they been at the Training Ground too?

As they grew nearer, Layla could make out commotion of some kind. A blend of voices that grew louder and louder.

And that was when she heard it - screams. Like the ones she had grown used to hearing night after night at the Training Ground. Clenching her fists and preparing for the worst, Layla watched the men take one final turn before approaching it herself.

Clearly she hadn't prepared enough. She finally made sense of what she was seeing and her stomach somersaulted. She quickly pressed a fist to her mouth to stop herself gagging. It had been a while since she had been in a situation like this.

It may have started out as a fight except that it had already ended and the man lay motionless in a pool of his own blood. Yet his opponents neither knew nor cared. They beat him mercilessly, not caring how much pain their victim had endured. His face was almost unrecognisable and Layla doubted he was still conscious.

She could hardly believe what she was witnessing. It had barely been a day since she had arrived and she was already at the wrong place at the wrong time.

A part of her was screaming to turn back but she couldn't. She was rooted to the spot, looking on in horror.

Surely someone would intervene. Yet looking around at the crowd of men, Layla knew that they enjoyed watching someone being tortured just as much as they feared it.

A small sympathetic part of her questioned her decision to do nothing.
That was you once, it urged.

But Layla clenched her jaw, her face hardening. Nobody had come to her rescue.

Stepping in would be foolish anyway. These weren't students, they were grown men. She doubted they would ask her to sing something in exchange for the stranger's life.

A glint of metal in the moonlight caught her eye. Layla's eyes widened as she realised what he was holding.
It was time for her to go.

She slipped back into shadow only for her heart to lurch as she stepped into someone. She turned swiftly and was just able to make out a tall attractive man who didn't look much older than her. He certainly didn't go to the Academy though.

He looked at her in utter shock before coming to his senses and shouted something to the other men in a different language.

Layla prayed her face was hidden by the darkness before doing what any sane person would. Capitalising on his surprise, she punched him in the solar plexus, just enough to knock the wind out of him. She didn't think she could knock him out, not just because her delivery would be off in the darkness, but because he was clearly well built and she hadn't practiced in years.

Then she ran for her life. There was a shout from behind her and adrenaline coursed through her as she flew through the deserted streets. She wasn't going to outrun a bunch of men. That much was clear. She had to hide. Somewhere. Anywhere.

She turned a sharp corner, hearing footsteps in front of her. That gave her an idea. She dived behind a low wall, laying flat on her back as she listened.

For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat before their voices filled the air. A mix of English and another language.

"She went that way."

"Are you sure it's a she?"

"Giovanni let himself get beat up by a girl?"

"How the hell did she find us? Which one of you clowns led her over there."

There was a pause before someone else spoke, his voice a lot more authoritative. "It doesn't matter if she talks. We had to do it on campus grounds anyway. Wentworth will have a nice surprise waiting for him in the morning."

Layla shivered. Even without looking at him, she could tell he was leering.

She didn't know how long she lay there but by the time she had gotten to her feet, the sky had lightened and the birds were singing higher notes than her.

She was so engrossed in her own thoughts, she hadn't realised that she had somehow managed to find the main building.

It was obvious that the men had some sort of vendetta against Charles Wentworth. But why? And who were they working for?

At least she had finally figured out that they were speaking Italian. But was Charles Wentworth not Italian himself? She wondered whether there was some sort of rivalry or whether his own men were working against him. He had certainly made his fair share of enemies but here? On campus?
None of it made any sense.

She yawned as she made her way up the stairs in the lounge before fumbling towards the elevator. Only there was something in her path.

Stumbling back, Layla met another pair of eyes before letting out a cry which she quickly muffled. Jumping away from the misshapen creature, Layla tried to control her heart rate, hoping that she hadn't woken anyone.

"What the hell are you?" she asked in an equal measure of confusion and horror.

"I'm Catherine," came a disapproving voice from beneath the green face mask. "And do you mind keeping it down? People are sleeping."