One moment he was there—flawless tuxedo, practiced smile, making some Gotham socialite blush with his charm. The next? Gone. Vanished like smoke in the Wayne Manor ballroom, leaving nothing but a half-finished champagne flute and a very confused mayor mid-conversation.

Alfred would kill him later.

But right now?

Right now, Bruce was laughing as he sprinted down the mansion's back staircase, bowtie undone, jacket long abandoned somewhere near the coat check. The alarms would be sounding soon. The guests would whisper. The press would have a field day with "Gotham's Most Elusive Bachelor Flees Own Party—Again."

He didn't care.

Because you were waiting outside in that little red convertible, engine already running, grinning like the devil as he came barreling out the service entrance.

"Took you long enough," you called over the roar of the engine, already shifting into gear as he vaulted over the door and into the passenger seat.

Bruce flashed that million-dollar smile—the real one, the one the paparazzi never caught on camera. "Had to ditch three heiresses and a senator's wife."

You hit the gas before his door was even closed, sending gravel flying as you peeled out of the estate. Somewhere behind them, a security guard shouted into his radio. Ahead? The open road and Gotham's skyline glittering like stolen jewels.

Bruce whooped as the wind tore through his hair, his laughter mixing with the blaring radio. Some pop song about runaway lovers pounded through the speakers as you took a sharp turn onto the coastal highway, nearly sending his champagne flute—when had he grabbed that?—tumbling into the night.

"Where to, Mr. Wayne?" you teased, your eyes bright with mischief in the dashboard lights.

Bruce took a swig straight from the bottle he'd somehow smuggled out (since when was there a bottle?) and grinned. "Anywhere but back there."

The city lights blurred past. The ocean air smelled like freedom. And for once, Gotham's Prince wasn't thinking about responsibilities, or secret identities, or the weight of his family's legacy.

Right now?

He was just a man in a stolen moment, running away with the only person who'd ever made him want to leave the crown behind.