The apartment in the center of Gotham had a perfect view of the city, illuminated by dazzling lights that barely disguised the chaos that reigned in the streets. However, for Sofia, that place was a refuge. There, with you, she was not the heiress of the mafia, nor the powerful woman who kept Gotham under her control. There, she was just your – completely, intensely your.

Sofia was leaning back on the couch, her dark eyes watching you walk from one side to the other, talking about some problem at work. She was distracted though, captured by the sight of you, as she always was. It was as if nothing else mattered, as if the whole world could collapse as long as you were by her side.

"You're not listening to me, are you?" Your voice cut through the fog of Sofia's thoughts, pulling her back to reality.

She smiled, that soft, almost childish smile she rarely showed anyone else. "Sorry, you're just really pretty when you're nervous."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile back. There was something about Sofia that always managed to break through your defenses, even in moments when you needed to be serious.

Sofia got up from the couch, crossing the small space between you in a few steps. Before you could react, her hands were on your shoulders, firm, but with a loving touch that she reserved just for you.

"If he's bothering you, I can fix it," Sofia said, her voice low, almost like a whisper. "It doesn't have to be difficult. It disappears, and that's it."

You knew she was serious. It was her way. For Sofia, everything was black and white – either things were under her control, or they were destroyed. But you couldn't allow her to solve her problems like that. Not with something so simple, not when you knew what it would mean.