His Perfect Prey: Her Reckoning

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