Gotham's Apocalypse (A Joke Story [Sequel to Cruel])

26: Show Off

Wayne smiled before he started to walk towards me again. I decided to close the distance by taking a few steps forward. "Well, that got your attention."

"I never saw you as the type to hire ex-cons," I spoke. "Need some dirty work done?"

He shook his head. "No, I think you could channel those superpowers into something positive."

"Last time I channeled these superpowers, I nearly killed some of the Justice League. Anyway, what is the job? You're losing my curiosity."

"Dent has been making some moves towards my campaign to clean up Gotham City, and I'm afraid he's going to scare off potential donators. This city could really use this," he spoke firmly.

"Wow, never realized how invested you were in politics," I spoke. "Want me to ice him?"

He looked concerned now. "No, no," he frowned. "Just figure out his next move, and bring your findings back to me."

I cracked a grin, chuckling softly before rolling my eyes and placing my hand on my hip. "You're kidding. You want me to go spy on Harvey Dent and rat on him? There's honor amongst us villains, even after we've retired."

This seemed to frustrate him, but surprisingly not as much as I expected out of him. "Okay, then could you do something else for me?"

God, this man was desperate to fling money at me. Like I was some damned stripper. "What?" I sighed. I bit back a snarky comment towards him. Be nice, Luce.

"Be my personal body guard at the charity tonight," he spoke. "I'm pretty sure some party crashers will show up to ruin the fun."

Man, that sounded fun, actually. "What does it pay?"

"$35,000, plus a bonus if you do an extra fine job."

I choked on air. I gasped to catch my breath before my wide eyes landed on him. "God, being filthy rich sounds so luxurious if you can just hand off 35k without batting an eye."

"Oh," he spoke, fixing his cuff link. "You have no idea. But you'll get there the honest way after you become a Doctor."

I rolled my eyes. Too bad not all of us could inherit money. I waved goodbye as he got back in his stupid expensive car and zoomed off.

Show off.

--

I decided to wear a nice burgundy dress with a plunging V shaped neckline, not low enough to where it revealed the goods but low enough where the shape of my breasts were slightly visible. The dress hung down to my floor in a nice, flowing fashion with a slit on the right side, exposing just a small sliver of my thigh. 

My hair, which had grown back to the end of my shoulder bone's scapular inferior angles, fell in small wavy curls. I decided to go with a nice black smoky eye with a hint of red along with eyeliner wings so sharp I could cut someone with them. I topped this look off with a nice, plumping red lipstick. I then sighed and lifted up the left side of my dress and placed a gun strap on my thigh, double checking I had enough mags in case someone threatened my client. I also placed a small dagger on the inside of my thigh with the same strap. 

For precaution, I picked my red pumps up and eyed them before placing a long sticker beneath them to hold one smaller throwing dagger per shoe. 

Satisfied with the ensemble, I took out my phone to call an Uber while walking by my front window, but the sight of the black Lambo parked outside of my house and the ding of my doorbell was enough to clue me in on Wayne's plan.

I rolled my eyes so hard as I opened the door to eye the rich man, who just smirked at me. "Wow, you clean up nicely," he spoke in an almost arrogant way. 

I let out a short chuckle. "Well, of course. I'm also fully loaded so you best keep your hands off of me."

He pursed his lips in surprise before flashing me a look I could only assume was flirting. "Well, I'll also keep my comments to myself because I don't think you'd like them, either, then."

Smooth. And a bit creepy. Wondered how he got girls without flashing his big wallet. I gave a curt nod before walking with him to his Lambo and climbing in the passenger seat.

"Ever been in one of these before?"

"I owned an Aventador before I destroyed it with a bat. I'm not one for material objects," I spoke with a shrug. The car was quiet for a moment before I quickly added, "But this one's nice. What kind is this? A Murcielago, correct?" 

"Yeah," He spoke in response. "Although I have been thinking of trading up for an Aventador." 

I smirked at that, but didn't comment. I just looked out of the window and watched as Gotham City flew by in a flash, accompanied by the roar of the Lamborghini's engine.