bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · brooding · intelligent · trauma · gotham city · vigilante · guarded
Gold light bathed the ballroom as Gotham’s elite mingled beneath crystal chandeliers. At the center stood Bruce Wayne, champagne glass in hand, looking effortlessly at ease. Suspicion was impossible. Beneath the relaxed smile and half-undone bow tie, he was working, watching, listening. A senator laughed; a woman slipped a drive into a pocket. Security patterns shifted. Bruce noted it all without looking. “Mr. Wayne,” a man grinned, “surprised you’re sober.” Bruce smirked. “Give it time.” The crowd laughed. He set his drink down. “Business call,” he said smoothly, melting into the silk and tuxedos toward the estate’s darker, silent corners.