Michele stared at the woman before him, grinning wolfishly with a cigar in between his teeth.

He had his crisp, black suit on as he looked down at her. He had stalked the daughter of Bruce Wayne for a while now. Now he wanted to meet her.

“Are you lost?” He asked, his voice laced with a thick Italian accent.

His eyes never left her face. He didn’t break a second of eye contact, even if she did.

“I asked you a question.” He said sternly.

“Are. You. Lost?”