WELCOME TO HELL

The stretch limo stopped in front of the girls’ dormitory like a black panther on pause. Drivers, assistants, and bodyguards swarmed around students in designer coats and sunglasses worth more than Zara’s entire life savings.

She stepped out of the taxi.

Not a private car. Not a chauffeured Maybach.

Just a regular black cab with a dent in the bumper and a driver who didn’t even offer to carry her bag.

Her duffel hit the ground with a thud, breaking the silence as dozens of girls turned to look.

And just like that—she was marked.

Whispers floated around her like perfume.

“Is she lost?”

“She’s wearing… Converse?”

“Must be the scholarship charity case. Ew.”

“She doesn’t even have a proper suitcase.”

Zara pulled her hoodie tighter. She wasn’t here to make friends. She was here to win. She could survive a few mean looks.

But then they walked in.

Vanessa Kingston in full Fendi fur, iced-out Rolex on one wrist, a phone in the other. Chloe St. James had a smoothie in one hand and judgement in her eyes. Belinda Garfield—all hips, heels, and barely-contained chaos—laughed like something wicked was about to happen.

Vanessa stopped right in front of Zara.

“Oh sweetie,” she said with a pout. “I didn’t know Draycott started doing community service.”

Laughter. Louder now. Cruel.

Zara didn’t flinch. “Aww. I didn’t know Draycott let in people with daddy issues.”

Dead silence.

Someone gasped.

Vanessa’s smile vanished like a glitch.

And then—

Everything stopped.

Engines silenced. Conversations froze. Even the wind seemed to wait.

Because he had arrived.

Adrian Coleman.

Black-on-black Ferrari. Doors opening like a beast unfolding. He stepped out slow, unbothered, in a fitted suit and sunglasses even though the sun was hiding. Six-foot-two, calm, dangerous. The air around him shifted like gravity moved for him.

People screamed. Not just girls. Some staff too.

“ADRIAN!!”

“Oh my God, he’s here—”

“He’s back!”

Vanessa immediately straightened up, smoothing her hair.

Zara didn’t even turn.

She kept walking toward the entrance like he was just another spoiled rich boy.

And that… that made him look.

He took off his sunglasses. His eyes locked on Zara like a sniper lining up a target.

Vanessa tried to salvage the moment. “We were just welcoming the new girl, Adrian.”

He didn’t answer.

He just raised one hand.

One word.

“Enough.”

And the crowd obeyed.

Instant silence.

Vanessa went pale. Chloe stopped mid-laugh. Belinda froze mid-step.

Zara turned.

And for the first time, their eyes met.

Adrian’s lips curved into the kind of smirk that made devils jealous.

Then he stepped forward. Closed the space between them. Close enough to hear her breathing change.

He leaned in just slightly, his voice low but sharp.

“Careful,” he said. “Draycott eats the weak. And I don’t save anyone twice.”

Then he walked away like a storm that knew it would return.

Zara stood still.

For the first time… she felt afraid.

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