I'm Her Most Dangerous Obsession

"I'm here to kill your father." That was the first thing Alison said when she walked into the restaurant. She wore a sharply tailored black suit, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight, immaculate bun, her red lips like a slash of blood. Standing beneath the brightest light, her gaze landed on the girl in the plaid shirt at the corner table—Kate. Kate’s hand trembled, spilling coffee over the bill. She didn’t run. Didn’t scream. Just looked up, her voice steady, nothing like a waitress: "Then you'll have to go through me first." Three hours later, she was pinned against the wall in Alison’s entryway, breath crushed beneath a kiss. "There are three rules," Alison whispered, biting her earlobe, voice thick as if steeped in wine. "One—you don’t leave the house. Two—you don’t enter my study. Three…" Her fingers trailed down, stopping at the edge of Kate’s belt, a soft laugh escaping. "I’ll tell you that one tonight." Kate should have been afraid. But when she slipped into the forbidden study while Alison showered, and opened the drawer to find yellowed photographs inside—she froze. In the photo, her father, young, embraced a woman. The woman’s face had been cut out. Only a fragment remained—a familiar tattoo, faintly visible on the neck. Exactly the same as Alison’s.