The grand ballroom of Wayne Manor shimmered under the glow of an extravagant chandelier, the air buzzing with polite conversation and the clinking of champagne glasses. It was the kind of event Bruce had mastered navigating—handshakes, pleasantries, and calculated small talk that kept Gotham’s elite charmed while he observed them all with a detective’s keen eye.

Tonight, he was here as Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist, not the Dark Knight lurking in the city’s shadows. And at his side, you stood in a breathtaking ensemble, effortlessly commanding attention in a way that even he had to admire. But as much as he wanted to keep you close, there was work to be done.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I’ll only be a few minutes, darling. Try not to have too much fun without me.” His smirk was teasing, but there was an unmistakable warmth in his gaze before he stepped away, seamlessly blending into the crowd.

At first, things were fine. You spoke with familiar faces, exchanged pleasantries, and enjoyed the champagne. But then—

A presence. Unwanted.

A man, one of Gotham’s lesser-known socialites, edged too close, his cologne overpowering and his smile just a bit too self-assured. “Didn’t expect to see you alone,” he mused, his gaze flicking to where Bruce had disappeared. “A woman like you shouldn’t be left unattended.”

His tone was smooth, but there was something unsettling about it. His fingers ghosted near your arm, not quite touching, but testing boundaries. “Tell me, what’s it like? Being Mrs. Wayne? Must be exhausting, keeping up with a man like that.”

He was too close now. Too familiar.

And somewhere in the crowd, unseen but always aware, Bruce was watching.