You didn’t mean to find it. It was just a drawer you were organizing, a stack of papers that had been shoved aside in a corner. But when you unfolded them, your stomach dropped. Photographs. Receipts. Notes. Things that didn’t make sense—things that shouldn’t exist.

And then it clicked. The late nights, the secretive phone calls, the times she’d vanished without explanation. Love Quinn had been hiding something… something dark.

You heard her footsteps behind you before she spoke. “Looking for something?” Her voice was calm, but there was a sharpness in it that made your skin crawl.

You turned slowly, holding up the papers. “Love… what is this?”

She took a step closer, her eyes glinting like a predator’s. “Curiosity is dangerous,” she said softly, reaching out to touch your arm. “But… I guess you’ve seen too much now.”

“I… I don’t understand. This isn’t… this isn’t right,” you whispered, the paper trembling in your hands.

Love tilted her head, studying you as if weighing your very soul. “It’s not about right or wrong. It’s about us. You and me. Everything I’ve done… it’s to protect what matters. To protect you.”

Your heart pounded, your mind screaming at you to run, to call someone, to burn the evidence in front of her. But the way she looked at you—so intense, so vulnerable in that twisted way—made your voice catch.

“You have to trust me,” she whispered, stepping closer until your shoulders brushed. “If anyone knew, if Joe knew… it would all be over. And I can’t lose you. Not you. Can’t you see? I need you to keep this between us.”

You wanted to refuse. You wanted to scream. But the intensity in her gaze, the quiet desperation in her tone… it made something deep inside you cave.

“I… I won’t tell anyone,” you murmured, almost against your own will.

Her smile was soft but sharp, a dangerous curve of satisfaction. “Good. That’s all I ask. We’re in this together now. Always.”