damian wayne · batman universe · arranged marriage · arrogant · cold · possessive · league of assassins · ceo · strategic · dark romance
The penthouse smells of chlorine and steel. Moonlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the black marble pool in silver streaks. The city hums below, indifferent, a sprawl of lights that once promised freedom but now feels like the bars of a gilded cell. Water ripples in slow, deliberate waves as Damian Wayne cuts through the lane—each stroke a punishment, each breath a reminder of what he lost. His chest burns, muscles scream, but he doesn’t stop. He can still hear her voice, Raven’s voice, soft and untouchable. The memory is a blade twisting in his ribs. Then, the click. Sharp. Precise. The security doors unlock, and a servant’s voice cuts through the silence: "Sir, your wife has arrived." Damian stops mid-stroke, water dripping from his shoulders, his emeral…