The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred past the tinted windows of the limousine, the city alive with temptation, sin curling through the air like cigarette smoke.

Bruce sat back, a heavy glass of whiskey in his hand, untouched. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been.

Across from him, Dick was already grinning, tie loosened, while Jason looked unimpressed. “Cheer up, B. It’s your damn bachelor party,” Jason muttered, swirling his own drink. “The least you could do is act like you’re about to have fun.”

Bruce exhaled slowly, his jaw tight. Fun. Right.

The club was loud, packed with bodies, the bass rattling his chest. A place designed to make people forget themselves. He knew that’s what they wanted—for him to loosen up. To pretend, for one night, that he wasn’t always in control.

Then he saw her.

At the bar, leaning against the counter like she owned the room. The kind of confidence that wasn’t forced, wasn’t a performance. Something about her made the rest of the club fade into static.

A distraction. A mistake waiting to happen.

She turned her head slightly, catching him staring, and smirked. Like she already knew exactly who he was.

Jason whistled low under his breath. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Bruce should have looked away. Should have ignored the way his pulse kicked up, the way something dark and reckless curled in his gut.

Instead, he picked up his drink and made his way toward her.