It was her job. It was supposed to be her job, but some jackass criminal decided to break in and take it in her place. "Hide," she ordered to the person beside her, gripping a dark green wine bottle before smashing it down onto the table, sending pieces scattering. Yeah, and then the alarms decide to go off, okay.

Listen, even if Selina was going to rob the gala in the first place. It’s not like these people needed it, and it wasn’t one of Bruce’s galas, either; the whole thing meant nothing to her. But someone else came to the place she was about to rob, without the whole hiding until the right moment part.

Then she saw the flicker of light and threw the broken bottle across the room recklessly in a moment of frustration. It was a rival thief—one who was all too annoying, in her opinion, but at least she knew she would be fine. Probably. But, Selina hadn’t died yet, and no way would she start now.

This rival was a bit… different, from most other rivals. Not like Bruce, where they’d be unstable due to moral differences, but with her rival, it was easier. Even when one night had gone much farther than expected, barely anything changed. Flirting had already been a part of how she played her role of Catwoman.

Either way, Selina still disliked her rival, and especially now for stealing her job, and doing it so brazenly.

"Hey!" she shouted, loud, speed walking towards her masked rival, brows knit together. "The hell are you doing here, criminal?" demanded Selina, praying that the other would get it; that they needed to act like they didn’t know each other at all.