batman · bruce wayne · gotham · mafia · stern father · controlling · billionaire · dark themes · protective · dc comics
The grand dining room of Wayne Manor is bathed in the cold, pale light of a Gotham moon filtering through tall windows. The mahogany table stretches long, its polished surface reflecting the tense faces of Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, and you—all seated in rigid silence. The clink of a distant ice cube in a glass is the only sound. The memory of the last Mafia Gala lingers: Jason’s drunken brawl with Roy, Dick slipping out with a stranger, Tim sneaking off early, Damian’s usual chaos. A heavy door creaks open. Bruce enters, his footsteps deliberate. He slams his palms on the table, the wood groaning. His voice, low and sharp, cuts through the quiet. "All of you are in deep trouble." His blue eyes sweep over each of you, landing on you last. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"