Kieran Everlay tucked his phone away, the expression on his face already shifting shoulders softening, features easing into a polished, welcoming calm. Nolan receded behind the eyes, and in his place, Kieran stepped forward, every inch the poised hotelier he had crafted for Gotham's upper crust.
Bruce Wayne stood just past the lobby threshold, hands casually in his pockets, a navy overcoat draped over his arm. He wore his charm like his tailored suit impeccable, expensive, and easy to underestimate. His eyes, though, sharp as razors behind the smile, roamed the room.
"These renovations are looking really good," Bruce said, letting his gaze drift up to the chandelier that had just been installed. "Looks like everything's coming together nicely."
Kieran stepped forward with a small, gracious nod. "We were lucky enough to find some generous investors. A few charitable types who believe in reviving gotham." He smiled faintly, hands clasped behind his back. "Everything's going well, all things considered."
Bruce turned slightly, admiring the glossy marble beneath his feet. "If you ever need more funding," he said, voice light and offhanded, "I'd be happy to invest a little. Always nice to see the city shine in places like this."
Kieran gave a soft chuckle, head tilting just slightly. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Wayne, but we already have all the investment we need. I've found it's best not to owe anyone if I can help it." He grinned, warm and polite, but there was a careful boundary in his tone.
Bruce returned the grin with a half-smile, the kind that almost seemed patronizing from someone with so much wealth, "Funny thing, though," he said. "I heard I already invested in this place. Had to check my accounts just to be sure."
Kieran laughed, smooth and practiced, as if the very idea amused him. "Isn't that strange? I heard the same thing. Honestly, I have no idea who started that nasty rumor." He leaned in slightly, mock-conspiratorial. "If you'd like, I can look into it. See who's been tossing your name around."
Bruce's smile stayed fixed, but his eyes flicked around again walls, staff, chandeliers, uniforms.
"That won't be necessary," Bruce said lightly. "I'd hate to interrupt the momentum you've got going." It was impressive, he actually pulled off the whole playboy billionaire act to perfection
"Appreciated," Kieran replied smoothly.
Bruce moved farther into the lobby, slow and casual, running a hand along the edge of a newly varnished check-in desk. "This could be a great venue, you know," he said. "When it's finished. Intimate, high-end, historic Gotham appeal. I might host a fundraiser here. Something small. Quiet. Just a few bored billionaires and their PR teams."
Kieran smiled as he followed him. "We'd be honored, of course. Once the final details are finished, we'll be fully operational. I'd be happy to show you the event space."
Bruce looked over his shoulder with a flicker of charm. "Let's call it a soft hold then. I like to support the underdogs."
Kieran dipped his chin. "And we're happy to accept support as long as it comes with a reservation number."
They shared a brief moment of mutual amusement, each man performing his role like a scene they'd rehearsed in different plays. But only one of them suspected the other was wearing a mask.
"You know I've heard it's been dangerous around these parts lately, I even heard about the break in you had? Trust me I know some good security personnel, want me to give you their number?" Bruce asked offhandedly
Kieran smiled lightly a relieved expression forming on his face and a sigh of relief escaped his lips as if a mountain was lifted from his shoulders, "You know what? I would love that Bruce. I've been trying to find some security of my own but I'm not too familiar with Gotham, I wouldn't mind taking a look at who you hire."
Bruce scanned over Kieran, evaluating the man before him, "I'm happy to help, I'll be in touch Kieran." he said before turning to walk away
"Please do Bruce, I do enjoy our little chats." Kieran replied watching Bruce leave his smile never reaching his eyes
***
Kieran slipped out the staff entrance of the Arden, the tailored lines of his suit draped under a long charcoal coat. He moved fast but calm, cutting through alleyways and back passages only a handful of people in Gotham knew existed. A turn through a delivery corridor, a hop down a service ladder, a passage beneath the old subway lines. Each movement was quiet, and smooth.
Halfway down a tunnel lined with rusted pipes and forgotten city brick, he stopped. Shrugged off his coat. His fingers worked quickly, brushing along seams, checking for transmitters, bugs, anything hidden. Nothing. He repeated the motion along his waist, arms, back, boots. Still clear.
He exhaled slowly.
'Still paranoid,' Nolan said dryly in his head.
'Paranoia is healthy no?,' Kieran replied.
He continued down the corridor, footsteps echoing through damp stone.
'He knows,' Quentin said, his voice low. 'Bruce obviously knows who we are. He has for a while now, what's the point in all of this?'
"I don't know," Kieran muttered aloud
'What's he waiting for?' Vey growled. 'He could've gotten some of our men the other night. When he dropped into that firefight. Instead he told them to give us a warning?'
'He doesn't want us,' Nolan said. 'Not just us.'
Kieran climbed over a collapsed beam and dropped into the old freight tunnel.
'He's watching the board,' Nolan continued. 'Waiting until it's full. Until he can knock down both sides in one sweep me, Black Mask, maybe even the people we've brought together. The message was an out he probably still sees us as in over our heads but his meeting with the beast changed his mind, he will accelerate. The hotel needs to open soon and this has to end or our future is fucked.'
'I agree,' Quentin added. 'He knows the difference between robbers and revolutionizing the homeless, he has seen us grow and now he needs to nip it in the bud. I think he will come sooner than we suspect.'
Vey's voice came like gravel. 'Let him try.'
Kieran paused at an old brick wall and ran his hand along the mortar. A brick shifted. He pushed, and a hidden door creaked inward. Beyond it lay the old utility staircase that would bring him to the meeting room.
'He's patient,' Kieran said aloud, voice low in the silence. 'That's what makes him dangerous. But it's also his flaw. Because the longer he waits… the more we build.'
'And when he finally hits,' Nolan said, 'we better be too far in to unfold.'
Kieran ascended the staircase, the door sliding shut behind him.
'We move fast, clean, precise. No noise we don't want. When we hit Janus, we hit it hard. And we make damn sure we're not the only target left standing.'
At the top of the stairs, the light of the meeting room flickered under the crack of the door. The council was waiting.
Kieran blinked and smiled, "Good evening." Quentin spoke while taking a cigar from his suit to light it