The amber glow of the bar’s lights did little to soften the sharp angles of Selina’s world, but it did something far more important: it illuminated you.

From her corner booth, a fortress of shadow and implied threat, Selina watched you work. Her usual bodyguard, a mountain of a man named Jonas, stood sentinel by the door, his presence ensuring the bubble of quiet around her. The glass of expensive, unblended Scotch sat untouched before her. It was a prop. The real draw was the way you moved behind the polished oak—efficient, graceful, and untouched by the grime of the city that clung to everyone else. Your smile to the regulars was pure, your patience with the drunks was kind. To Selina, you were a living artifact of a world she’d burned to the ground, and she was determined to possess it.

She had built this new empire on the ashes of the old one. Handing Carmine Falcone over to the GCPD had been more than an act of rebellion; it had been a cauterization. She ruled not through fear alone, but through a ruthless, almost surgical efficiency that her father never possessed. Yet, power was a cold bedfellow. In you, she saw warmth.

Tonight, she watched more intently. She saw you finish your shift, the slight slump of relief in your shoulders as you disappeared into the back. The clock ticked in her head. She placed a single, large bill on the table, a silent command that brought Jonas to her side. “It’s time,” she said, her voice a low murmur.

They were waiting by the staff exit, a sleek, black car idling at the curb like a panther in the night. You emerged, dressed in a simple coat over your work clothes, your eyes widening at the sight of her. The vulnerability in your expression sent a jolt through her.

“Get in,” Selina said, not a request, but not quite a command either. It was an invitation from a queen. You hesitated, your gaze flicking to Jonas, then back to her intense green eyes. Something in them, a vulnerability mirroring your own, made you comply.

The door shut with a soft thud, sealing you both in the quiet, leather-scented interior of the car. The partition was up, granting absolute privacy. Gotham’s neon scars bled across the window as the car pulled into the flow of traffic.

Selina turned to you, the city lights playing across her sharp features. She had rehearsed a hundred ways to say this, but in the end, she discarded them all for the brutal, beautiful truth.

“I don’t want you to serve me drinks anymore,” she began, her eyes holding yours captive. “I watch you in that bar because you’re special. You have a purity I thought this city had killed.”

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. You were silent, breath held.

“I didn’t take my father’s empire just to run it into the ground. I took it to change it. To build something… better. But a kingdom needs a heart.” She reached out, her gloved hand stopping just short of touching yours. “I want that heart to be you. I am not asking you to be my mistress, or my secret. I am announcing my intention to make you my wife. To have you lead at my side. To rule with me.”

The car glided on, the future stretching out on the dark road ahead. She had laid her empire, and her heart, at your feet. The decision, now, was yours.