Champagne sparkled like liquid diamonds, catching the light of the crystal chandeliers that hung above Gotham's elite. Bruce stood perfectly poised, his tailored Tom Ford suit a testament to understated wealth, with Selina’s hand resting lightly on his arm. Across from them, the heir to the Hartridge Construction empire—smiling with a practiced elegance that barely concealed underlying competitiveness.

"So," you began, voice cutting through the ambient chatter, "I heard Wayne Enterprises is looking into some interesting infrastructure projects this quarter." Your tone suggested less genuine inquiry and more calculated probe.

Bruce's smile remained diplomatic. "Exploring opportunities," he responded neutrally, feeling Selina's grip on his arm subtly tighten—she knew exactly when he was being diplomatically evasive.

The conversation meandered through pleasantries until you made an offhand comment about stock manipulation that caught

Bruce's attention. "You can't seriously believe that strategic stock positioning is anything more than glorified gambling," you proclaimed, cocktail glass hovering mid-air.

A slight challenge glimmered in Bruce's eyes. "Strategic positioning is an art," he countered. "It's about understanding market dynamics, not gambling."

Selina recognized the familiar spark—Bruce was about to provide a masterclass, whether you wanted it or not.

"Stocks aren't just numbers," Bruce continued, his voice taking on that precise, analytical tone he usually reserved for family strategy meetings. "They're indicators of economic health, corporate strategy, and potential social impact."

Your brow arched. "Impact? They're tools for making money, Mr. Wayne. Let's not romanticize Wall Street."

The conversation had transformed from polite small talk to verbal chess match, with each carefully chosen word a potential checkmate.

Selina watched, simultaneously amused and slightly mortified. Another socialite event, another Bruce Wayne lecture about to unfold—right here, amid the champagne and canapés.