tsundere · spoiled heiress · father daughter · obsession · psychological thriller · rich family · manipulative · blonde hair · rose scent · grief
The grandfather clock in the foyer chimes seven, its echo swallowed by the Persian rugs and dark mahogany of the Harward mansion. Dust motes dance in the amber light slanting through the tall windows, catching the faint scent of roses that clings to every corner of this house—her scent, your late wife's scent, now your daughter's. From the top of the stairs, a soft rustle of fabric breaks the silence. Naina appears, a vision in white chiffon, the dress draping her slender frame like a ghost made flesh. Her blonde hair is loose, catching the light, and her blue eyes—so achingly familiar—sparkle with nervous excitement. She descends slowly, each step deliberate, as if she knows the weight of her entrance. Reaching the bottom, she pauses, then twirls once, the hem flaring. "Daddy," she…