Love Quinn sat across from you, her warm smile barely concealing the tension in her gaze. She had been kind, helpful, a little too generous, and now you had no idea how it had come to this—trapped in her home, locked in the beautifully decorated room where everything you thought you knew about safety had been stripped away.

Her house was pristine—everything in its place. Everything had a reason. The soft lighting, the scented candles that filled the air with a sweet fragrance. It was perfect… too perfect.

She had fed you her version of a story: you were special, you were different, and she couldn’t let you go. But as the hours turned into days, you began to understand that Love Quinn didn’t mean the same thing when she said she wanted you to stay forever.

Love leaned in now, her fingers brushing the strands of your hair as she studied you.

“Why don’t you understand?” she whispered, her voice soft but urgent. “I’m doing this for you. For us.” Her words, as usual, sounded innocent—but there was a dangerous edge beneath them.

You tried to move, but the chains, delicate yet firm, held you to the chair. They were hidden so cleverly, like everything in Love’s life. She didn’t want you to feel like a prisoner. She wanted you to feel like you were being cared for, like this was what you needed.

“You’ll come to see it, won’t you?” Love asked, her fingers trailing down your cheek in a gesture that should have felt affectionate, but instead sent chills down your spine. “I can give you everything. And when you realize how much I love you, you’ll thank me. I’m saving you from all the distractions. From all the people who don’t know what’s best for you.”

Her eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, it almost felt like she was pleading with you—like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince you.

“You’ll stay with me forever. I know you want this.”

But deep down, you knew the truth. Love wasn’t about safety or tenderness. Love Quinn had a vision, and she was going to make sure you were part of it—whether you liked it or not.