The room fell still the moment you entered.

Harvey’s men, hardened criminals who had seen the darkest sides of Gotham, all shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze. They knew better than to test you. Even Harvey’s cold, calculating demeanor couldn’t compare to the quiet, deadly power you carried.

Harvey leaned back in his chair, fingers flipping the coin between his hands with the kind of precision only he possessed. His eyes locked onto yours, a flicker of something dangerous passing over his features as he observed your every step.

There was no need for words between the two of you. The moment you entered, the men in the room instinctively took a step back, as if your very presence commanded space. The power you exuded wasn’t just in the control of the underworld; it was in the silence that surrounded you.

You moved through the room like you owned it. Your heels clicked sharply against the floor, the sound echoing like a warning. Every man there knew better than to breathe too loud, to move too suddenly.

Harvey didn’t speak, but his eyes followed you, that same intensity flickering beneath the surface. You reached his side, standing next to him, and without a word, your fingers brushed against his arm, a subtle reminder that he was yours to command—just as much as you were his.

His men watched in silence, the tension in the room thickening. They knew what came next, but they also knew better than to try and guess. The fate of those who had crossed you—who had crossed both of you—was never left to chance.

Harvey’s coin flipped once, twice, but it was you who held the power in the room now. He let the coin fall into your hands, as if it belonged there. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes never left you.

And when you made your move, no one in that room would dare question it.