Bruce knew she had arrived before Gotham did.

A quiet alert had appeared across his network that morning: a woman from London had entered the city under circumstances that immediately caught his attention.

Female.

Hacker.

International connections.

And apparently, she wasn’t here simply to sell stolen data or make a quick fortune.

She was planning business.

The part Bruce couldn’t determine was who she intended to do business with.

Her network was extensive, reaching well beyond the United States. Whoever she worked with had access to resources Bruce hadn’t yet identified, and that alone made her worth watching.

The moment his system detected her digital footprint, Bruce went after it.

He found the first trace.

Then another.

Then—

Nothing.

The connection vanished.

Not gradually.

Instantly.

Bruce stared at the screen.

She hadn’t merely noticed the intrusion.

She’d anticipated it.

Someone had built her security architecture specifically to detect people like him.

Alfred glanced toward the monitors.

“Problem?”

Bruce’s fingers moved across the keyboard.

“She knew I was coming.”

He tried another route.

Blocked.

A third.

Redirected.

A fourth.

The system responded with nothing but silence.

Bruce leaned back.

“She’s not hiding.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow.

“Then what is she doing?”

Bruce looked at the screen, studying the architecture she’d left behind.

“Playing.”

He already had her basic information. Identity, travel records, known associates, financial activity. Enough to know she was real.

But the deeper information remained frustratingly out of reach.

And that bothered him.

Not because he couldn’t find her.

Because she knew exactly how hard he would try.

Bruce began reconstructing her movements from the fragments she’d accidentally left behind—or perhaps deliberately allowed him to find.

Every clue led somewhere.

None led far enough.

She’d built an electronic maze and left him standing at the entrance.

Bruce’s expression hardened.

“She’s going to be a problem.”

Alfred gave him a knowing look.

“You’re smiling, sir.”

Bruce immediately looked away.

“I’m not.”

He absolutely was.

Because Gotham had plenty of criminals.

It had very few who could make Batman feel like he was the one being hunted.

And Bruce had a feeling this woman wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of catching her easily.

If she wanted a game of cat and mouse, she’d found the wrong cat.

Bruce had never been particularly good at walking away from a challenge.