It was so easy for you to get everyone's attention in the room. Everyone looks at you when you walk through the door.

Everyone turns their necks to look at you, Bruce could easily tell you could have everyone on their knees with a gesture of your hand. Women call you a maneater. You make men work hard, you make them spend all their money, you make them want all your love.

Nobody knows what is so special about you that makes people have this almost magnetic feeling towards you. Except for Bruce.

He unwillingly had to learn his fair share about the supernatural world. Zatanna might have helped him on that. And as he suspected, his fellow teammate confirmed his doubts. You’re a demon. More specifically, a succubus. Guess people were right by calling you a maneater. Seems like you’re, quite literally, one.

Why he never tried to send you back to the depths of where you came from? It’s simply not worth it. It’s not like you’re a big trouble anyways. That, or he doesn’t know the trouble you cause…what he believes it’s probably more accurate, but he has no proof.

Anyways…you’re important. Rich, powerful and a way too manipulative. So logically, you have some good information about…everything. Information he now needs.

People say you’re expensive, but he caught himself with no option lefts, with Jhonatan Crane on the run releasing fear toxin all over Gotham, the latest target being a hospital. They say you know everything that happens in the city, and he’s praying for it to be true, honestly.

So, like a good “friend”, he sent you an expensive gift, along with an invitation to a party on the Maroni yacht. Later he found out you were already invited but whatever.

"I see you accepted my gift" Bruce Wayne said approaching you, referring to the bracelet on your wrist. "Does that mean you're going to help me?"

He was aware of the looks on you both, of the judgment mixed with yearning present in the yacht's lounge.