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His Perfect Prey: Her Reckoning

Chapter 1 

Word Count: 649    |    Released on: 17/06/2025

id the right t

iversary dinner, he stood

e proves every day that a strong, independent woman isn' t just a slogan, it' s a

felt a flush of pride, a warmth that spread thr

to build this life, on my own terms. My parents, the Harrisons, with their luxury hotel empire, had offered help countless times. I always refused. Mark subtly rei

expensive fencing lessons – all on me. Mark' s "startup" was still in its "early phase," operating fro

s annual charity gala. I' d pledged $500, a modest sum, I thought. I handed over my company credit card – the one I used f

he payment table swi

wn. "I' m sorry, Ms. M

oman whose smile never quite reached her eyes, was stand

rah. A bit o

w? I paid the b

istake," I mumbled,

rk. It rang

voice sharp, like I' d i

s declined. Can you Zelle the school or

it out. Don' t touch the 'household' account for t

hun

gure salary went into that acc

stare, cold and amused. Other parents were starting to l

who managed multi-million dollar marketing campaigns, couldn' t cover a $50

ssica' s voice, just loud enough to carry, "Alw

elf. The card was declined. The account d

aight to voicemail. He'

could think of was Mark' s speech, his pride in my independence, now a bitter joke. I paid for everything. H

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His Perfect Prey: Her Reckoning
His Perfect Prey: Her Reckoning
“I was Sarah Miller, a senior marketing manager, fiercely independent, building a life I was proud of. My husband, Mark, constantly praised my strength, publicly toasting "To Sarah, the most incredible woman!" I poured everything-my salary, my energy-into our home, our son Leo, and his expensive private school, believing I was crafting our shared future on my terms. But at the annual charity gala, my company card-used for "shared" household expenses because Mark' s were always mysteriously maxed out-was humiliatingly declined. Not once, but twice. A small, apologetic frown from the attendant confirmed the impossible: "I'm sorry, Ms. Miller, it's declined." Red-faced, I called Mark. "That five bucks in there is for my coffee," he sneered about the account holding my six-figure salary. Later, I discovered his Venmo: thousands transferred to a "Tiffany Evans." "Rent Support." "Shopping Spree." "Car Down Payment - BMW." His so-called "niece." Her Instagram, however, tagged "My amazing man" and flaunted new designer bags and a shiny BMW: #BestBoyfriend. My world shattered. Was my entire self-made independence just a facade, meticulously used to fund his secret life with another woman? The betrayal felt like a lead weight in my chest. That crushing realization was the final straw. So, when my chauvinistic boss brazenly took credit for my latest multi-million-dollar campaign, something snapped. "Actually, Chad," I declared, my voice steady, "that' s my campaign. I quit." Then, the words of liberation: "My dad' s monthly allowance to me in college was more than your annual salary." The time for Sarah Miller, the naive workhorse, was over. The time for Sarah Harrison had begun.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10