They Hunted the Wrong Monster

Summary

A rich kid offered to buy me dinner.

Led on by his sly encouragement, I ordered a feast of biblical proportions for a table of ten: king crab, massive lobsters, the finest French caviar—the works.

It wasn’t until he flashed a malicious grin that the trap was sprung.

"Babe, if you can't finish all that, you're picking up the check."

He thought I didn’t see it—the hidden camera on his chest, the live feed where a torrent of comments was already flooding the screen, all of them mocking me.

“Look at her face, she’s screwed. That spread is $95,000. How’s some broke girl gonna pay for that?”