Lance was, in every sense, a man who worked for money. That very night, he appeared at the Diamond Museum.
This special exhibition of rare sapphires had drawn socialites from across the city.
Unfortunately, Bruce Wayne was absent due to a back injury.
Dressed in a well-tailored suit and leaning on a cane, Lance blended seamlessly into the crowd.
Behind him followed Waylana Jones, awkwardly dressed in a professional office secretary outfit and a bow tie.
While Lance appeared refined and composed, Jones's presence was far too striking. Even the nobles and socialites, who prided themselves on their composure, could not help but cover their mouths with fans and whisper when they saw her.
Jones was clearly unaccustomed to such an environment. She tugged at her bow tie uneasily, then moved closer behind Lance, as if hoping he could shield her from the stares.
"Relax," Lance said quietly. "Treat it as a learning experience. Look at these exhibits. See how beautiful they are."
Jones's attention was nowhere near the gemstones.
Being forced into formal attire and brought into a place like this, only to be stared at and discussed by others, felt worse to her than a fight.
At that moment, she wished she could retreat to Lance's private law firm or return to the sewers. Anywhere would be better than this.
"Relax." Lance placed a hand on her shoulder. Ignoring her pleading expression, he continued.
"No matter how uncomfortable you feel, endure it. Don't concern yourself with anyone's opinion. This is the first lesson I'm teaching you."
"If you can't do it, I will be very disappointed."
"Stop looking at them. Stop thinking about them. Look at what's in front of you. Look at these gems and tell me, what do you see?"
Jones fixed her gaze on an egg-sized sapphire displayed in a glass case. She tried to shut everything else out and focus on what the gem conveyed.
At first, she felt nothing.
But she did not doubt Lance. That was precisely what he appreciated about her. So she tried harder, concentrating even more, forcing herself to feel something.
"It's heavy," Jones said suddenly.
"Hm?"
"The gem." She pointed at the sapphire. "Inside… something is crying."
Lance paused and looked at the gemstone again.
Under the exhibition lights, the sapphire shimmered brilliantly.
Yet in essence, it was no different from an ordinary stone by the roadside.
"Perhaps," he said, "some things are heavy because they carry too many stories, while others are made heavy by people."
"Good," Lance said. "Do you feel better now?"
"Much better," Jones nodded.
"Excellent."
Lance glanced around the hall.
In the crowd, Selina Kyle stood in an evening gown, her smile bright and effortless.
She noticed Lance, but did not recognize him.
Her gaze passed over him briefly. To her, he was nothing more than an exceptionally handsome stranger.
Waylana Jones drew a few more glances from her, but nothing beyond that.
Unlike Catwoman's indifference, Lance raised his glass in greeting.
Her eyes flickered for a moment, then returned to normal.
An hour later, the lights suddenly went out.
The next second, the crowd erupted into confusion, and security rushed toward the display cases.
Too late.
The glass case had been cleanly cut open, and the precious aquamarine had vanished without a trace.
Amid the chaos, Lance pulled Jones into a corner.
He pressed his earring. "Number One, report your position."
"The target exited through the ventilation duct and is heading to the roof. Estimated time to full escape, eight minutes."
That was enough.
Lance nodded to Jones, and the two slipped into a staff passage before climbing toward the rooftop.
These so-called superheroes either relied on mutation or money. As for him, if he wanted even a hint of presence, he had to climb up here himself like some pitiful, overworked lawyer.
Selina stood at the edge of the roof, the sapphire resting in her hand.
She held it up to the moonlight, admiring the way it shimmered.
Hearing footsteps, Catwoman turned. When she saw Lance, one brow lifted slightly.
"I don't recall meeting you," she said. "Why are you following me?"
"Just bringing my kid up to enjoy the view," Lance replied, walking closer. "By the way, is that stone pretty?"
"Exquisite." Catwoman raised the gem higher.
Moonlight passed through it, casting faint blue reflections across her face. "Look. It changes color under the moonlight."
"It is beautiful," Lance said. "Steal it, and someone else gets their heart broken."
Catwoman's movement paused. For the first time, she turned back and studied him carefully.
"He sent you?" she asked.
"What do you think?" Lance spread his hands in a casual shrug.
"He couldn't come himself?"
"Perhaps he's afraid you'll stab him a second time," Lance said. "Besides, his back hasn't healed yet. The doctor ordered him to stay in bed for a week."
"Serves him right," Selina muttered, though her grip on the gem loosened slightly.
"Not really my place to say this, but I think the two of you should talk."
"Is there any point?" Selina asked.
"Good grief." Lance rolled his eyes. "You Gotham people are something else. Ever since I got here, I've been handing out free therapy sessions. I'm a lawyer, not a psychiatrist."
"Listen, Miss. My attitude might not be pleasant, take it or leave it, but I'm going to say it anyway."
"Go talk to him. Give him a chance, and give yourself one. Some things won't resolve themselves if you keep them buried. And for the record, it was just an argument. Pulling a knife was excessive."
Lance glanced at her. "You should be grateful the person you stabbed isn't exactly normal. If it had been me, you'd already be in Blackgate Penitentiary on charges of aggravated assault."
Catwoman was momentarily stunned by the barrage of words. She had not expected a simple question to earn her such a blunt reprimand.
Since the day she stepped onto this path, no one had ever spoken to her like that to her face.
For a brief moment, she was speechless.
It took her a while to process what he had said.
Then she tossed the gem to Lance.
"Hmph. Take it," she said. "And I will meet him, Mr. Grumpy Lawyer."
Selina paused at the edge of the rooftop. After speaking, she leaped down and vanished into the night.
Below, the wail of sirens came to a halt.
When Gordon arrived with his men, all he saw were Lance and Jones standing on the rooftop, along with the gemstone resting on the railing.
"Prescott?" Gordon's eyes widened. "What are you doing here?"
"Just handling a client's request." Lance shrugged and handed over the gem.
"Also returning it to its rightful owner."
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