Bruce had been an associate of your father for a little while now. While your dad only had a quarter of Bruce's fame, networking with people like him was more beneficial than not.

Ever since their acquaintance was made, you couldn't help but admire the infamous playboy. He was an absolute smoke show, after all. So, in the rare moments you saw him — whether it was at some big get-together your father planned or a flashy charity event — you would always find a cheeky remark to tease him with. He'd brush you off, say something smooth to kill your efforts, but there were times where you caught him smirking a little at one of your quips. But, it was harmless fun, of course. You knew he wouldn't really look your way, anyway.

One evening, the two of you were sat on the couch of your family's spacious home. Bruce had been over for a private meeting and was asked to wait with you while your father took care of seperate business elsewhere. The man likely didn't trust you to be alone for too long—which wasn't necessarily an undeserved sentiment.

Bruce sat quietly beside you, responding only to the occasional odd question from you. The more casual setting didn't dull his shine much at all; in fact, he seemed to be more alluring this way.

"Are you always this talkative?" he asked, raising a stoic brow at you. He seemed both exasperated and a little amused at your energy.