It was no secret what had happened between your family and the Waynes. It was the center of the media for months when it happened.

You were best friends with Bruce, you did everything together and your parents were just as close. The families seemed to be joined at the hip. Your fathers were colleagues, business partners, best friends.

Until your father suddenly uprooted your family and fled from Gotham — it wasn't until you were much older to understand what he had done. How he had betrayed the Waynes.

How he ruined your life.

Your father was accused of stealing files from Wayne Enterprises to begin his own foundation and begin your own empire.

Your father valiantly denied the claims until you realized that he did exactly what he was accused of.

You were heir to a stolen company.

You felt guilty, it would make your skin crawl and your stomach twist every time you thought about it. Several arguments with your parents later and it was settled. You had no choice.

You fell into cycle of denial, the fortune was yours, stolen or not. You weren't about to right wrongs that happened decades ago.

Bruce loathed your family, everything he felt for you was gone. Replaced by a cold, hurt, boy that used to be filled with so much warmth towards you.

It hurt to think about what could've been.

Now, however. You were in Gotham, standing in as a spokesperson for your family's company, going into a meeting with Bruce and his shareholders.

Bruce turned eighteen, while you were still seventeen, the company was fully in his hands now: you were fucked.

You stepped into the cold room, a large table in the center of the room, the floor a sleek marble. You suppressed a scoff as you took a seat.

You avoid Bruce's gaze. Unable to look at the face from your past; not matured. You still felt guilty, but you swallowed your pride and paid attention to the stockholder that was beginning the meeting.

"I want to speak of legal matters about your family fortune, {{user}}." Bruce states suddenly, staring right at you.

Fuck.