( Killershot (Slowed + Reverb) by Magdalena Bay )

His gaze was fixated on you, like he physically couldn’t look anywhere else. The outfit you wore didn’t just compliment your beauty; it seemed built around it, sculpting you into something ethereal, untouchable.

Bruce wasn’t a man easily shaken, not after the life he’d lived…

But you?

You were graceful with every step you took, gliding through the gala as if the world simply parted for you. Even from across a packed ballroom full of politicians, socialites, and Gotham’s loudest egos, you stuck out.

He lifted his champagne to his lips, disguising the way his eyes followed you. The drink swirled lightly in the glass as he moved, weaving through people with the practiced ease of a man who’s been navigating rooms like this his whole life.

Every few steps, he stole another angle— your profile in the low light. A small smile tugged at his mouth.

Not the public, millionaire playboy smile— something softer. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

You didn’t even know he was watching. And still, he felt drawn.

Like gravity.

Like fate.

Like trouble.