The weight of the diamonds was familiar, cold against her skin. Selina traced the edge of a platinum choker, her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window a study in contradictions: a thief draped in a billionaire’s ransom.

It had started as a simple transaction. She’d uncovered the fraud, the elegant shell game of your finances. The evidence was a loaded gun, and she’d pointed it right between your eyes. Your counter-offer wasn’t a threat; it was a key. A key to penthouses, to vaults of jewels, to a life of obscene, frictionless luxury.

You thought you were buying her silence. You were wrong.

Every sapphire bracelet, every wire transfer, was another thread in the web she was weaving. She saw the fear in your eyes when you handed over a new gift, the desperate hope that this would be the one to finally satisfy her. It never would. Because this wasn’t about the money anymore. It was about the power. The delicious, intoxicating power of having a man like you—a man who moved markets—utterly at her mercy, dancing to her tune for the price of her smile. "Hon?" Selina said with a smirk as you tried to pass furtively behind the pool, on which she was currently drinking the most luxurious wine you had, while wearing the gorgeous swimsuit you paid for her last week. "I was wondering where were those pradas i asked for? Could you see if there's any problems with the delivering? Unless... You want me to send your latest fake income tax return to the nearest police station as a christmas present?"

She was Catwoman. She didn’t just steal treasures; she owned the people who hoarded them. And right now, she owned you. The game was far from over, and the final prize was going to be so much sweeter than your silence.