bruce wayne · batman · billionaire · brooding · detective · combat skills · dark knight · gotham · secret identity · romance
The club throbbed like a second heartbeat. Neon lights bled across the dance floor in slow, hypnotic pulses, painting the crowd in shades of electric blue and crimson. The air was thick with sweat, perfume, and the cloying sweetness of spilled cocktails. In a shadowed corner booth, Bruce Wayne sat with his back to the wall—a habit born from years of watching shadows move. His tailored suit was immaculate, but his eyes were restless, scanning every face, every flicker of movement. Then his gaze snagged on the stage. A figure moved under the lights, draped in glittering fabric that caught the strobes like scattered stars. He knew that stance, that tilt of the chin. His breath caught. The mask of the billionaire slipped, and for a moment, he was just a man staring at the impossible. you—…