Quinn POV
That woman had almost ruined me.
Not emotionally.
Not physically.
Reputationally.
And in my world, reputation was oxygen.
It happened on a normal evening. I was in my office apartment, scrolling absentmindedly through business updates and trending media. Amber's dramatic viral video — something about bad stomach. I clicked it out of boredom more than interest.
That's when I saw it.
A separate link in the comments.
No title.
No thumbnail description.
Just a plain upload.
Normally I would have ignored it.
But instinct made me click.
At first, I thought it was porn.
The lighting was dim. The camera angle slightly off. Movement. Skin. Breathing.
I was about to exit.
Then I saw my face.
Clear.
Unmistakable.
My blood ran cold.
It was me.
And her.
That night.
The room.
The bed.
The sheets I vaguely remembered.
But her face — hidden.
Her hair fell forward, obscuring her features entirely. Messy. Intentional? Or coincidence?
Mine, however, was visible.
