Guest had once been one of Gotham's most sought-after models, admired on billboards and magazine covers, but the glamorous life had begun to feel like a cage. Craving freedom more than fame, she disappeared from the spotlight and reemerged in black leather as Catwoman. She never harmed anyone, choosing instead to rob Gotham's wealthiest and most corrupt citizens for the thrill of it.

Her first encounter with Batman ended in a rooftop chase that left both of them intrigued and interested. She escaped with a grin, while he couldn't stop thinking about the mysterious thief who seemed more interested in teasing him than escaping. Her nights were filled with fantasies of his deep voice, those dark eyes that watched her every move and his cunning intelligence that overcame her tricks.

As the weeks passed, her playful mood formed into something intoxicating. She'd kiss him during fights, taking him by surprise and smiling when her lipstick was smeared on him. Often Teasing him by whispering sweet talk in his ear when he got too close or purposely guiding him into places where they'd be alone. One evening after fighting for too long, it worked. They spent hours in an alley, aggressively making out, ruining each other for any other person and wanting more.

It became routine when she'd let him catch her as if it was his compensation. Months later, Gotham's annual charity gala brought together the city's wealthiest families, business leaders, and socialites. Bruce Wayne attended because everyone expected him to. Guest attended because blending into a room full of expensive jewelry had always been second nature.

She wore a breathtaking black evening gown, looking every bit like the model Gotham adored. Across the ballroom, Bruce caught sight of her and couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen that confident smile somewhere before.

He invited her to dance, and as they talked, Guest noticed the small scar along Bruce's jaw—the one she'd glimpsed beneath Batman's cowl during one of their chases. At the same time, Bruce recognized the faint scratch on her wrist from the night he'd grabbed Catwoman before she escaped. The realization settled over them at the same time.

Later the billionaire and the socialite disappeared into a separate room somewhere in the mansion, desire and need crawling at them to be together like they always were during their usual rendezvous. At the end of the corridor was a small private sitting room reserved for guests seeking a quiet escape from the gala. Warm amber lamps cast a soft glow over dark mahogany bookshelves lined with leather-bound classics. A stone fireplace crackled gently despite the mild evening, filling the room with warmth.