Ice-Cold Obsession

Chapter 1

SCARLETT

I PUSH THE DOOR TO my new dorm room open and let out a breath. No one else is here. The space only belongs to me, and that’s exactly what I need.

It took some cash and a carefully worded email to make it happen. I framed it as needing privacy for personal reasons, and the housing coordinator didn’t mind. Mistakes happen all the time in student housing, and, apparently, I’m one of them.

I drop my bags and move straight to the closet. The lockbox comes out of my backpack first, and I set it on the floor before crouching down to open it.

The photo of my sister is on top. Carla stares back at me, frozen in a moment I can barely remember now. Her smile is wide and genuine, like it was before Gabriel Santelli destroyed her.

I run my fingers over her face and lean closer to the image. “I’m going to make him pay,” I whisper. “I promise.”

My throat tightens, but I don’t let myself cry. Crying won’t bring her back. It won’t undo the night she jumped into the ocean from a cliff. When they found her body later, everyone called it suicide because that’s what it looked like.

But I know better. I know who pushed her to do it.

I pull out the stack of papers underneath the photo. Everything I’ve gathered about Gabriel over the past year lives in these pages. I’ve studied him like an enemy in war, and I know exactly how to get close to him.

His picture is in the center of the first sheet.

He has dark hair and blue eyes that probably make every girl on campus forget how to think straight.

He’s objectively attractive, and I hate that I can see why Carla fell for him.

But looks don’t mean anything when the person behind them is a monster.

I tape the photo to the inside of the closet door and start pinning up my notes around it.

Everything I need to know about Gabriel’s life is here, organized and ready.

His class schedule because he’s predictable.

The rink times because hockey owns his life.

The bars and parties his teammates frequent because he’s always surrounded by people who worship him.

Under all the notes, I find the printed texts.

Screenshots from Carla’s phone that I salvaged before anyone else could see them.

The messages are cryptic but suggestive, hinting at something between her and Gabriel.

A secret relationship. I’m sure of it, even though he’s never publicly acknowledged dating her.

Meet me after midnight with a location pin dropped somewhere off campus. I can’t stop thinking about it followed by Carla’s response, Me too. Another one from Gabriel: You know we have to be careful and Carla writing back I know.

But the pattern is clear. Gabriel would send a message, Carla would respond immediately, and then there’d be silence. Days of nothing. And then another cryptic text from him, pulling her back in.

I pin those up too and step back to look at the display. This is my war board and my reminder of why I’m here.

Gabriel thinks he got away with what he did to Carla. He goes around campus like some kind of god because he’s the hockey team captain and everyone loves him. But I’m going to tear that all down. His team, his reputation, and everything he cares about.

The plan is simple. I’ll get close to him by becoming exactly what Carla was before he broke her. Sweet, innocent, and trusting. It won’t be easy because I’m none of those things, but I’ll do it for her.

I’ve spent months preparing and watching Gabriel from a distance through social media and campus gossip sites.

I know his type. He dates girls who are easy and uncomplicated.

Girls who don’t ask for too much or expect him to be anything more than the golden boy everyone thinks he is.

He uses them and discards them, and no one ever calls him out because he’s Gabriel fucking Santelli.

But Carla was different. She wasn’t easy or uncomplicated. She was shy and thoughtful, and she believed in people. She believed in him, and that belief destroyed her.

I close the lockbox and shove it to the back of the closet behind my shoes. The door clicks shut, hiding my research from view. To anyone else, this room looks normal. It’s clean, quiet, and belonging to a girl who just wants to move on.

My phone buzzes on the desk. It’s my mom.

How’s the room? Did you get settled okay?

I type back quickly. Yeah, it’s good. No roommate, so I have the whole place to myself.

Her response comes through almost immediately. That’s wonderful, sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re doing this. Carla would be proud of you.

My jaw tightens. Carla wouldn’t be proud. She’d probably beg me to stop, let it go, and move on with my life. But Carla’s not here anymore, and I can’t let it go. Not when Gabriel gets to live his perfect life while she’s dead.

I don’t respond to Mom. Instead, I scroll through Gabriel’s social media profile. He recently posted a photo of him and his teammates in someone’s backyard, drinks in their hands and grins plastered on their faces. The caption says Ready for tonight, with a fire emoji.

There’s a party. Of course there is. Hockey players don’t miss opportunities to get drunk and celebrate themselves.

I screenshot the post and zoom in on Gabriel’s face. He looks relaxed and happy, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world and didn’t drive my sister to kill herself.

My stomach twists, but I force myself to keep looking. I need to memorize every detail. The way he smiles, the way he stands, and the people he surrounds himself with. If I’m going to infiltrate his life, I need to know how to blend in.

I set my phone down. Carla spent her last year here. She met Gabriel and fell in love with him, and let him break her. I still can’t believe no one noticed she was falling apart until it was too late.

Mom and Dad think I transferred here to feel closer to Carla’s memory. They think being at Northstone will help me heal and that I’ll somehow find closure by walking in her footsteps. But they have no idea what I’m actually planning, and that’s better for everyone.

If they knew the truth, they’d try to stop me.

They’d say I was being irrational or that I let my grief consume me.

But they don’t understand. They didn’t see the texts on Carla’s phone or the way she changed in the months before she died.

Each time she visited, she seemed quieter somehow, as if something essential had been drained out of her, but I thought it was just regular college stress.

I .continue unpacking my bags. The clothes go in the dresser, my toiletries in the bathroom, and my textbooks on the desk. I work quickly because staying busy keeps my mind from spiraling.

When I’m done, I dig through my suitcase for the outfit I picked out weeks ago. It’s a simple sundress that’s fitted but not too tight. It’s the kind of thing Carla would’ve worn. Sweet, approachable, and completely non-threatening.

I lay out the dress on the bed and stare at it.

I changed my last name over the summer to my mom’s maiden name, and the paperwork went through without any issues.

Gabriel won’t recognize it, and even if he somehow remembers Carla mentioning a sister, he won’t connect me to her.

We don’t look that much alike anyway. Carla had lighter hair and softer features, and I’ve always been different.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and let myself think about Carla for a moment. She used to braid my hair. She’d sit behind me on the couch and work through the tangles with her gentle fingers, humming some song I can’t remember anymore. She was patient and kind, and everything I wasn’t.

When she went to college, I thought she’d come back different. More confident, maybe. Or more sure of herself. But instead, she stopped calling as much. Stopped smiling. And when I asked her what was wrong, she’d just say she was tired or stressed about her classes.

I didn’t push, but I should have.

The last time I saw her, she hugged me for a long time and I asked if she was okay. She just nodded and said she loved me, and then she left.

A week later, she was dead.

I stand up and go back to the closet, opening it to look at Gabriel’s photo again. His face stares back at me from the center of my research, surrounded by all the details I’ve collected. Everything I need to know about him is right here, and I’ll use it all.

I grab my phone and check the time. The party probably started an hour ago, which means it’ll be crowded enough that slipping in unnoticed will be easy.

I pull the sundress off the bed and hold it up against myself in the mirror. The light blue fabric brings out something softer in my features that I haven’t seen in myself since before Carla died. I look younger and innocent.

I start getting ready, taking my time with each step. I put some mascara and a soft pink lip gloss because anything more would be too much.

When I’m done, I barely recognize myself. The reflection staring back at me looks soft, pretty, and completely harmless. The kind of girl who couldn’t possibly have revenge on her mind.

Perfect.

I check myself one more time. The dress comes to just above my knees, and the neckline is modest. Everything about my outfit screams sweet and approachable, and there’s nothing that would make Gabriel think twice about talking to me.

I grab my phone and wallet, tucking them into a small crossbody bag. I’ve been planning this for months, and I know exactly what I’m going to do.

But as I’m about to walk out the door and face Gabriel for the first time, I feel something tighten in my chest. Maybe it’s my nerves, or the fact that once I do this and put myself in Gabriel’s orbit, there’s no going back.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Carla’s face appears in my mind, and it’s not the smiling version from the photo but the hollow one I saw during her last visit home, and I think about the sister who barely spoke and who moved through our house like a ghost.

That’s what Gabriel did to her. He took someone full of life and hope and turned her into a shell, and then he threw her away.

I open my eyes and look at myself in the mirror again.

Gabriel Santelli has no idea what’s coming for him.

I sit back down on the bed and pull out my phone again, scrolling through the party photos Gabriel’s friends are already posting. The house looks packed, and everyone seems drunk and happy. It’s crowded enough to blend in but intimate enough to actually talk to him.

I study the faces in the photos, trying to memorize who’s in Gabriel’s inner circle. The guys he’s always photographed with, and the girls who hang around them. I need to know who matters to him so I can figure out the best way in.

There’s one guy who appears in almost every photo with Gabriel. He’s tall, with dark hair and an easy smile. They’re always close, their arms around each other’s shoulders. The guy’s probably his best friend.

I save a few of the photos and then check the address again. It’s not far from campus. My heart beats harder just thinking about it.

I’m going to get close to Gabriel, make him trust me and care about me, and then I’m going to destroy him the way he destroyed Carla.

It sounds simple when I think about it like that, but I know it won’t be. Getting close to someone means letting them get close to you too, and I can’t afford to forget what he is or what he’s capable of doing to the people who trust him.

I take a deep breath and head for the door.

The party is waiting, and so is Gabriel.