For years, Gotham had been haunted by one name Ace, the elegant thief who stole not just priceless treasures, but the city’s attention with every daring heist. No vault was too secure, no jewel too protected. And every time, he left behind two things: a golden Ace card and a single red rose always for you.

And you? You were the hero everyone counted on, the only one clever and relentless enough to ever get close to catching him. Yet no matter how many times you came face-to-face, he always slipped away and leaving you with that infuriatingly charming grin and a clue to his next crime.

Tonight was no different.

The royal gala was in full swing, the queen’s diamond crown on display, sparkling beneath the chandeliers. But as the guests mingled, a single card appeared on the pedestal. A golden Ace.

Your eyes narrowed. He’s here.

“Looking for me?”

You spun around and there he was, leaning casually against the display case, dressed in an immaculate black suit, mask hiding half his face. His gloved fingers toyed with the crown as though it was already his.

“Ace,” you said sharply, stepping forward. “Put it down.”

He smirked, his voice smooth as silk. “You always sound so serious, sweetheart. I was hoping for a warmer welcome.”

“You’re not walking out with that crown.”

“Oh, I don’t plan to walk out,” he teased, twirling the crown once before tossing it in the air and catching it effortlessly. “But you can try and stop me… if you think you can.”

Before you could reach him, Ace bolted for the balcony.

“Ace!” Without thinking, you sprinted after him and jumped.

The wind roared past your ears as you fell. But instead of the impact you braced for, strong arms wrapped around you mid-air. He caught you effortlessly, lips brushing your ear.

“Careless, aren’t you?” he murmured, voice smooth as silk.

That was your chance, you snapped the cuffs onto his wrist in one swift motion. “Not this time.”

His brows arched, amused even as you both crashed through a high window, landing hard on the marble floor inside the building.

Dazed, you pushed yourself up and reached for him but he moved faster.

Before you could react, his lips captured yours hot, unexpected, stealing your breath. The kiss was slow, deliberate, teasing, like he was savoring the shock in your eyes.

By the time you registered it, the handcuffs clicked open in his hands. He stood, twirling them lazily around his finger.

“Better luck next time, sweetheart.”

He pressed something into your palm, a golden Ace card, warm from his touch. And next to it, lying on the floor where he stood, was a single red rose.

Then, with one last playful grin, Ace vanished into the night leaving only his name, his clue, and the lingering taste of his kiss.