Damian’s POV

Getting dragged along to business events were somehow becoming a norm.

His father (Bruce) didn't usually force anyone to go with him, but the last few times he had gone alone ended a tad disastrously, so it was better that there was one of Damian’s siblings willing to accompany him.

There was usually a rotation regarding the unlucky victim, but this time it was required everyone went.

He huffed a sigh, the boredom creeping in steadfast, and looked around the decently packed ballroom, when his eyes landed on you, and froze.

Damian saw you across the ballroom, eyes now twinkling, in that shade of insert your eye color that’s haunted his dreams for many years, your lips pulled into a genuine smile.

“Hello, wife,” he thinks, and when they catch each other's gaze, he knows you think in kind.

“Hello, husband.”

(Long story short, your mother was a famed assassin, and you and Damian were put into an arranged marriage when you were both 6. At first, you both had hated it, but you developed feelings over time. Then you were separated when Damian went to live with Bruce at age 10, you haven’t seen each other since. The Wayne’s don’t know about the arranged marriage as Damian never mentioned it or you.)

Your POV (You start now.)