Chapter 2.1

CHAPTER 2.1

Bruce POV

[Did you know that there's no one from either family to take care of the kid?

Yes, I heard about that. I just thought it must be a lie

So sad, all alone in this world.

At least, he won't have to contest for the properties you know

That's true being a billionaire at this age. I don't even know whether to be jealous or to feel pity

Ha-ha, I choose both.

Hmmm how will he be able to run the company at such age?

Thomas and Martha really didn't think this through. Having the butler care for the kid. Pfft! Will we ever understand how rich minds work?

I don't think so. Sharks are probably going to start coming out to want a piece of the vulnerable boy.

I heard that the butler was from a mysterious background. Maybe they thought ahead?

Have they caught the person yet?

They are probably working their butts off. If someone influential dies, it's like there's a fire lit under their butt. But if a nobody died, they look the other way and claim cold case or missing person.

True, Gotham police is really a joke.]

Murmurs of these type were all I heard the day of the funeral. Many people came from all over the country to express their sympathies. So, few of them personally knew my parents and fewer had genuine sympathy.

They tried to keep their voices low, but I knew, I heard the not so low voices. Criticising my parents for their lack of protection and for choosing to walk into a dark alley all for a shortcut.

However, it should not had been this way. It really was the first time that I knew it I had truly been living in a bubble. People went missing, some even murdered in Gotham. But when it didn't affect one on a personal level, it tends to be more of a distant thought. Something you vaguely knew happens but couldn't possibly ever affect you.

Spending the whole day acting politely to these people when all I wanted to do was tell them to leave. To leave my father's house, but now as the man of the house I had to keep a cordial façade no matter how much it hurt to hear these words from their mouth or seeing their fake expression when all they thought was how much can we get from this boy.

Thankfully, Alfred helped to escort the people who overstayed their welcome. This was done on the basis that I was young, just lost my parents and today was their funeral. It really would be inappropriate if they kept shoving their business cards in my face.

Later that day, as I soaked in the bath preparing for bed. I thought of what I could have done to prevent it. I was so weak then and still weak now. Was this how I wanted my life to be, to be weak? Shaking my head, this didn't feel right. I wanted more, I wanted justice, I wanted others not to feel the pain and fear I felt losing them. All these were going through my mind when I heard it.

{Cheer up. There was nothing you could have done}

I froze. Looking around the bathroom, I didn't notice anything amiss. The door was still closed, the windows were closed and covered. Where did the voice come from?

{Well, am kind of in your head}

Frowning, I slowly wondered if I had perhaps started running mad. Could this happen through grieving?

{Your sister! Who do you think you are calling mad! Well, I guess technically yourself however I feel deeply insulted}.

I probably needed to see a psychologist, I thought to myself completely ignoring its response.

The next day during breakfast. I asked for Alfred's opinion on the matter, he didn't seem to disagree, nor did he agree. All he said was that it will be taken care of.

Then he drove me to the company to meet the shareholders properly even though I had already been introduced to them briefly at the funeral.