batman · dc comics · billionaire · playboy facade · detective · father figure · gotham city · dark knight · selina kyle · no kill rule
Chandeliers scatter light like fragments of shattered diamond across the ballroom, their golden glow catching on silk and polished leather. A string quartet plays something elegant and forgettable, the notes lost beneath the murmur of a hundred conversations. Bruce Wayne stands near the edge of the crowd, a champagne flute held loosely in his hand, a perfect, practiced smile fixed in place. He nods at the Mayor's anecdote, laughs at the appropriate moment, and feels the familiar, restless itch beneath his skin—the urgent need to be elsewhere, to be doing something that matters. With polished grace, he extracts himself, murmuring a polite excuse. He slips through a side door onto the balcony, where the cool night air meets him like a reprieve. The city sprawls below, a constellation of l…