Chapter 10: Judge and Jury

"Master Bruce, I implore you to eat something before you go to work! You cannot present your case before the board on an empty stomach!"

Alfred trailed behind Bruce as he made his way to the front door.

"I survived without food for over a month during my trek through the Himalayas. I think I can survive one morning without breakfast."

"While that is certainly an impressive feat, Master Bruce, you are not in the Himalayas right now. I did not prepare a full breakfast to see it go to waste."

Bruce wanted to defend himself, but he respectfully kept silent. There was no point in arguing with Alfred, especially after he had gone to the trouble of cooking. Bruce entered the informal dining room and took the vacant seat next to Selina at the round table. He poured himself a generous cup of coffee as she turned on the television.

"—We'll be looking at some heavy thunderstorms tonight with a low of forty-seven that will continue into tomorrow morning. Now, back to the studio with Summer Gleeson and Jack Ryder."

"Good morning, Gotham," Summer greeted with her usual serene, approachable smile."Here are our top stories to start your Thursday morning."

The camera switched over to Jack Ryder."Police have launched an investigation into the disappearance of twenty-five-year-old Elsa Redmond, who was reported missing by her sister Monday morning. According to the report, Redmond ended her shift at the My Alibi nightclub in the Amusement Mile around midnight last Friday. She was last seen walking in the direction of her apartment in Park Row, wearing a maroon wool coat, dark jeans, red stilettos, and carrying a red suede handbag."

Bruce's head snapped up. When a photo of Elsa Redmond faded onto the screen, he nearly dropped his coffee mug. The picture displayed the mystery woman's sparkling blue eyes creased by a wide, carefree smile...but Bruce could only recall the look of pure terror in those same eyes as the blade of a mugger's knife was held across her throat.

It was her. The woman from the Narrows.

"Detectives are strongly considering foul play as the motive for Redmond's disappearance," Jack continued, "but they remain hopeful that they will find her alive and are encouraging anyone who might have information to come forward immediately."

"Redmond is now one of an estimated fifteen women to be declared missing in Old Gotham this year," Summer added."Among others reported this month are nineteen-year-old Abigail Travers, twenty-three-year-old Poppy Russo, and twenty-nine-year-old Caroline Chan...."

As the report details went on, Bruce suddenly realized that the room had fallen silent. The sound of silverware scraping against glass plates had stopped. Out of curiosity, he flicked his eyes to Selina. Sure enough, she was biting the inside of her cheek and her catlike eyes were narrowed as she stared at the TV.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"...Nothing. Just another typical day in Gotham," she replied sarcastically as she raised her coffee cup to her lips.

Bruce wanted to ask her more, but his own curiosity took precedence. It was too large a coincidence that the woman he saved from a mugging only a few nights before had disappeared the same night in the exact same place. A million thoughts sprang into his mind as he tried to find a logical explanation. Did the robbers catch up to her after the brawl in the alley? Was someone else lurking in the shadows nearby, just waiting for the opportunity to strike? If Bruce hadn't allowed himself to get stabbed, could he have identified the person who took her...or stopped them altogether?

Bruce's stomach began to twist into knots as he turned his attention back to the TV.

"...In regards to the growing number of missing women, GCPD Detective Harvey Bullock issued this statement to reporters this morning," Summer continued. Suddenly, a heavy-set man with dark greasy hair appeared on the screen. The cameraman was practically chasing him into the police station and he seemed bothered by the microphones being pushed in his face.

"We're doin' everything we can! Commissioner Loeb has put together a task force whose top priority is to find these missin' women. The psycho who's doin' this is bound to screw up, and that's when we'll nail him to the wall! Now, if you'll excuse me..."

The reporters continued tailing behind and shouting questions until the detective disappeared through the front doors.

"I can't believe this," Selina replied incredulously as she gestured to the TV. "I mean, how is anyone still buying their crap? The only task force I've ever seen the GCPD assemble was for a pizza run!"

Bruce squeezed his eyes closed and hung his head. The twisting sensation in his stomach started making him nauseous. The dining room walls felt like they were shrinking around him.

"And in the next case, why would a few missing club workers from the East End suddenly be enough to get those lazy, pompous bastards down at precinct to care?" she persisted. "I don't remember them caring too much when two of Mayor Hill's favorite escorts mysteriously washed up dead in the bay ten years ago. Hell, I don't think they even bothered to open an investigation! One word of denial from him and they all rolled over like good little dogs. Plus, he and Loeb have been buddy-buddy for years."

Selina stood from the table and marched over to the coffee pot resting on the credenza. She sighed and shook her head as she refilled her cup. "I just get so sick and tired of all the lying. No one in power gives a damn about the little people in this town. We've all known it for years, so why don't they just say it? If they can't bother to pretend every other day, why waste time now trying to come up with an excuse no one will believe anyway?"

Every word hit Bruce like a punch to the stomach and he began to feel a cold wave of sweat move down the skin of his neck. He loosened his blue striped tie, but it did nothing. The guilt and the anguish were suffocating him from the inside. He needed to leave.

As if his legs grew a mind of their own, Bruce stood abruptly from his chair. The shrill squeak of wood on wood pierced through the tense silence. Selina whirled around, startled.

"What's wrong?" she asked as he quickly approached the door.

"Nothing."

"Liar," she taunted. "Where are you going?"

"The office. I have a board meeting, remember?"

She put down the coffee pot and started to follow him. "Boy, you are not going to make this easy, are you?"

Bruce stopped and turned to look over his shoulder. "Make what easy?"

Selina crossed her arms over her chest and nodded to herself. "Alright, I guess we're playing that game today..."

"What game, Selina?" he growled, growing impatient.

"Selina...not 'Lina," she repeated in her mind. "Must be serious."

"You tell me. You've barely said two words to anyone since that night in the Narrows. You're off to work before I get up, you don't come back until late, and you haven't eaten a solid meal for almost a week. Not to mention our sex life has gone up in smoke, which is very reassuring since we've been married all of what...two weeks?"

"I've been busy," he responded more brusquely than he meant. As he readjusted his tie in the mirror, he glimpsed the skeptical look on Selina's face from over his shoulder. Bruce stopped and turned to look at her with a sigh. "I have a lot on my mind right now, okay? Today's board meeting aside, I've been thinking a lot about something Oswald told me when he was here. He said that stopping one crime just allows two more to happen somewhere else. The people of Gotham will never trust anyone to protect them. Then, the news this morning reminded me of something you said a few years ago about how one man can't be an island."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

He hesitated for a moment, nerves chewing at his stomach. "The missing woman, Elsa Redmond...I saw her on the night I went to the Narrows. The night she seemingly disappeared."

Selina's expression softened a bit. "Why didn't you say something?"

He felt a sudden surge of guilt. He still hadn't told Selina about the knife wound he sustained trying to rescue the woman. How he managed to keep it concealed from her for nearly a week was a miracle in itself. However, it mattered little in the end. He might have saved Elsa from a group of armed muggers, but his efforts were apparently in vain.

"It didn't seem important at the time," he lied. "But if she was kidnapped that night, I could have done something! I was walking around doing absolutely nothing! How many more crimes happened that night that I could have stopped?!"

Selina shook her head and gently cupped his face in her hands. "There you go again, taking responsibility for things that are out of your control. First your parents...now this. When will you learn to forgive yourself for the things you can't change?"

"I didn't spend four years away preparing myself just to come back and have everything be out of my hands. I'm not like you, Selina. I can't just bury my past. It's painful, but it's the one thing that guides every decision I make. Just like now. I'm on the verge of losing my father's company and the legacy I promised him I would protect...and I'm powerless to stop it."

He removed her hands from his face and kissed the inside of her wrist. "I have to go."

He turned his back on her and quickly left the room. With wide eyes, Selina could only stand by and watch him go in stunned silence.

...

Even though Wayne Enterprises had a hundred floors filled with various departments, Thomas Wayne always said that the most important room in the entire building was the board room. Every three or so months, the various officers on the board of directors would gather in the conference room on the topmost floor to make vital decisions relating to the company's future. Like pieces on a chessboard, each officer had a specific role to play in the game of business.

There were eight officers on the A-tier of the Wayne Enterprises board; The Board Chairman, the Vice-Chair, the Chief Executive Officer, the Chief Financial Officer, the Chief Marketing Officer, the Chief Technology Officer, the Treasurer, and the Board Secretary.

The one hundred remaining board members in the B and C tiers were the heads of the company's various committees, all of whom owned stock in the business. Because Wayne Enterprises was still a private corporation, all of these stockholders maintained a vice-grip over the company. They never had to fear being removed during elections and could get away with all manner of underhanded transactions. Thomas Wayne hoped to prevent this by opening Wayne Enterprises to the public on the New York Stock Exchange and Bruce intended to see the plan through. However, his immediate focus was the A-tier board...and Dorian Finch.

Bruce pushed open the double doors to the conference room. Beyond was a vast space with beige marble walls, gray carpeted floors, and a white coffered ceiling. Beneath a modern gold cubic chandelier stood a large wooden table with a glass surface, on top of which were mountains of paperwork, charts, and other essential materials. At the head of the table sat the eight chairs of the executive board members and at the remaining sides were the chairs of the committee heads.

The meeting wasn't due to start for another half hour, but there were already dozens of people milling about talking in groups or sampling food from the buffet. As soon as he entered the room, a few people lifted their heads and began to whisper to their neighbors or anyone else who would listen. Almost a month had passed since he returned, but the shock still hadn't subsided.

"Good," thought Bruce. "Maybe I can use that to my advantage."

"Good morning," Regina greeted warmly. "Armed and ready for battle?"

Bruce chuckled as he shook her hand. "Of course. I brought all my best weapons for the occasion."

"Good. You'll need every last one of them." She turned and scanned the crowd with a tense but discerning smile. "I've worked alongside most of the same board members for over a decade. They're overly cautious and very resistant to change. The word progress would likely cause an outbreak of hives."

The two laughed as they looked at the primarily middle-aged department heads and committee members.

"I must sound like quite the hypocrite, " Regina mused. "I'm a traditionalist by nature as well, but eventually, even I had to learn that heading a technology company requires foresight...and a great deal of compromise. Your father's favorite quote in situations like this was, "Progress lies not in enhancing what is, but in advancing toward what will be." The company isn't in danger, but there is great room for improvement."

"I completely agree...but I guess that's a stance I should avoid taking if I want to make the right impression today, yes?" he asked with a playful smirk.

Regina withheld a laugh. "You're a fast learner. That will serve you well. The good news is that you've laid a solid foundation for your case by following me throughout the week. I've gotten compliments from several department heads about your interest in their projects."

"Well, we happen to have some interesting developments. For example, I learned from one of the researchers in the medical department about an experiment they're conducting with the tech lab over at GothCorp. They're working on building a newer piece of cryo-technology designed to help slow the spread of cancer cells."

Regina shook her head with an amused smile. "Those boys and their toys. They're performing miracles down there, but sometimes I think that in our effort to shoot for the stars, we forget about the moon. There are so many projects we could be working on that are a lot simpler and easier to accomplish, but just as meaningful. For instance, Mr. Fox is in the process of creating a highly complex electronic locking device. You'll have to ask him about the specifics. A lot of the technical terms are beyond me, but I do know that it's apparently strong enough to withstand a bomb. Gotham's banks are already queuing up to get their hands on the prototypes. If it works, the effectiveness of large-scale robberies or even prison breakouts could decrease exponentially."

"That's incredible! It's a shame that some of these departments are being stifled by the budget distributions. Lucius is a fantastic engineer, but his talents are completely taken up by the other branches of the company. If the technology department had its own branch like Wayne Steel or Wayne Aerospace, just imagine what we could accomplish."

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Bruce. One that might be worth mentioning..." Regina stated with a sly tone.

Bruce gazed at the groups of committee heads and branch directors, which had doubled over the last several minutes. He shook his defeatedly. "Or...maybe that's a conversation for another day. The last thing I want to do in my bid to be CEO is tell the branch directors that I want them to start giving up their money. After all..."

Bruce glared at Dorian Finch, who was chatting amiably with the board treasurer.

"...dollar figures speak the loudest."

"His vote isn't the only one that matters, Bruce."

He turned to see Regina giving him a knowing look. She glanced toward Dorian and pursed her lips. "Remember, all votes are decided by majority rule. Easy money might matter to some people in this room, but certainly not all. The success of any corporation lies in long-term goals. Whether they want to admit it or not, we can't keep carrying on as we are without making any change whatsoever. One day, some other tech giant is going outpace us with their latest invention and our contractors will jump ship. We might be the most reliable company to work with, but in today's economy, people are willing to take big risks to get big rewards."

She placed a hand on his shoulder and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Which is why we could use a fresh new face like yours to stand on the front lines. The CEO is the face of the company. If people see a young, passionate leader, we'll appeal to the newer generation."

Bruce chuckled. "Well, then...I'll endeavor to live up to your glowing report, Regina."

A sudden loud knocking from across the room ended their musings. Dorian stood at the head of the board table, a gavel tucked between his long, spindly fingers. Little by little, the voices of the attendees faded into silence.

Dorian looked around at his colleagues and cleared his throat. "This meeting will now come to order. Everyone, please take your seats."

Regina gave him one last look of encouragement before taking her seat at the head of the table beside Dorian. Bruce made his way to the nearest seat at the far end of the desk next to the lower-tier board members. As everyone around him began to assemble their materials, he purposely avoided looking into the pair of familiar steel-gray eyes that were fixated on him from across the room.

...

The next few hours passed by in a dull, mindless blur as Dorian read the minutes of the previous meeting and the other board members introduced their various proposals. Thanks to his tour of the building with Regina, Bruce knew most of what they wanted. Several made good points and delivered strong presentations but, as expected, their words made little impact on the directors. Judging by the empty or exasperated expressions on their faces, none of them wanted to be there in the first place. In their eyes, change wasn't a risk worth taking and the best path forward was to stay the course. Bruce, however, felt like the lookout aboard the Titanic. They were sailing straight toward disaster and no one cared enough to stop it.

He began to wonder how his father felt when he stood in front of the board for the very first time. After all, Thomas didn't want to be a businessman. He attended Gotham University and then went straight to medical school to become a surgeon. Everything he learned about business came from Bruce's grandfather Patrick, who demanded that his son honor the family legacy by taking over Wayne Enterprises. How did the suited dinosaurs of his time feel about a young, inexperienced, and excitable man taking over the company? They must have learned to accept him at some point considering he had been CEO for over a decade and successfully expanded the business. Nevertheless, according to the many conversations Bruce had with Alfred, Thomas always viewed the company as a tool to be used for the betterment of the community. He cared about the Wayne family legacy, but never about what it meant to himself. He wanted his name to leave a lasting impact on the world. Dorian was correct, in that way.

Speaking of Dorian, the stone gargoyle of a man had just finished mocking the last presenter when his eyes traveled down to the bottom of his schedule. A smug grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and his gray eyes sparkled like melted silver.

"Our last item on the agenda," he began with a renewed vigor, "concerns the Chief Executive Officer position. Mr. Wayne has joined us today to learn about our upcoming proposals and acquisitions, and also to express his desire to fill this position. Mr. Wayne...you have the floor."

Bruce felt his stomach do a somersault, but he managed to put on a confident and relaxed expression as he stood from his chair, buttoned his blazer, and approached the podium. It was a very different view of the room. From the safety of his chair he felt like an outlier, but standing in front of a hundred eyes all scrutinizing him was like a defendant standing before a jury.

"Good morning," he greeted charmingly. "Before I state my case, I'd like to thank you all for allowing me the opportunity to speak today. I understand these quarterly meetings are reserved for the most important company issues, so I won't take up too much of your time. As Chairman Finch stated, I am requesting that the board consider my appeal to fill the position of Chief Executive Officer. I understand that what I'm asking for is perhaps more than I deserve considering my current qualifications. I admit that while I have the education needed for the position, I lack the experience of most other candidates."

He took a deep breath and focused his mind. Slowly, a confident smile took hold of his lips.

"However...I think all of us can agree that knowing corporate structure and jargon is only one part of the job. It's also vitally important that the CEO has a clear and executable vision for the company and its future success. It's only possible for a corporation to achieve that success if it has strong leadership, and if its leaders lose sight of that vision, the business will collapse. The very reason Wayne Entperises exists today is because of a vision my ancestors had...and the legacy they began has endured almost four hundred years, despite the challenges this city has thrown our way—"

"—Yes, we all read our local history books back in grade school," one of the board members grumbled. The nameplate in front of him read Richard Sutherland, Vice-chair. "We don't care about dreams, Mr. Wayne. We care about what can be seen on paper and yours looks pretty empty. Why should we vote you onto the board instead of someone who's been working in the industry for...say...thirty years?"

Dorian offered a proud smile to his colleague. Bruce lifted his chin with equal assurance.

"Simple, Mr. Sutherland. I have one asset that you will never find in any other candidate—my name. Forgive me if it sounds a little self-important, but my family's name on the front of this building and every product we sell means that I'm the face of this business whether or not I sit at this table. To the people of Gotham, every action of mine reflects on this company, and every action this company takes reflects my morality and my family's reputation. Wouldn't it be more practical to hire the person who has the most to lose as the owner of the company, rather than someone who has only themself to protect?"

Several of the board members nodded and murmured in agreement.

"If we agree to instate you as CEO, even if it's on a trial basis, what would be your approach to running the company?" asked Grace McDouglas, the board secretary. "As you said, Wayne Enterprises will be judged by your actions regardless if you're the CEO. Could you give us a general idea of your agenda for the future?"

"I mean to continue where my father left off. I want to expand our technology-based subsidiaries. As I understand it, Wayne Aviation owns twenty percent of Lockheed Martin's weapons division. Seeing as the aerospace branch is the most successful in the company, I will continue to honor our arrangement with the U.S. military and endorse the expansion of our engineering department. I've looked at the numbers and agree that our armored transportation units and security software are our largest points of profit."

Dorian raised his eyebrows, shocked at his rival's approval.

"However... I hope to one day assign company resources to begin new projects as well."

"Such as?" Mr. Sutherland barked.

"I think we should consider exploring alternative energy, medical research technology, and education...among other things. Picture a world where the average citizen drives a fully electric car manufactured by Wayne Industries. A world where a person can receive a Wayne Pharmaceuticals vaccine for cancer. Wayne Enterprises trade schools and merit scholarships that ensure high-achieving students can contribute their geniuses to bettering the world."

"Those are very grand ideas, Mr. Wayne," Dorian stated contemptuously. "But, where do you plan to find the funding for these so-called projects?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Finch. I know from our previous conversations that profit reigns supreme," Bruce replied sarcastically. "I'm not insisting that we put all of these plans into motion at the same time and certainly not on a scale that large. We can start by focusing on the projects with the most merit and room for growth."

Many heads nodded in silent contemplation.

"Suffice it to say, that's my ten-year business model. Nothing too ambitious," he stated with mirth. A few of the board members chuckled along.

"Having a business model is an excellent start, Bruce," Regina began hesitantly, "and I am personally interested in a few of the proposals you mentioned, but it's the execution of your plan that truly matters. We want to know if you can handle the responsibilities that the position involves. You can clearly communicate effectively before the board of directors, but that's only one part of the job. An effective CEO has a thorough understanding of a company's operations—"

"—I've studied the procedures extensively and I have my family's collection of company documents for reference. I've also taken the time to tour the building's different laboratories and learn about our current projects. If the board chooses to grant me the position, I'd like to take the time to discuss those projects at a later meeting."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," she replied with a sly smile, "but being a CEO also involves showing the appropriate conduct when meeting with important people, such as investors, partners, stockholders, and competitors—"

"—and let's face it," Mr. Sutherland interjected. "You don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to interacting with others. All you've proven is that you can throw a good party and make a quick getaway."

Bruce immediately glanced at Dorian. He looked like the cat who ate the canary. Of course, he found a way to decimate Bruce's character by bringing up his hiatus.

He took a deep breath to calm his temper. "If this relates to my trip to Europe, I apologize if I caused any offense to the board by not providing any notice. My answer is that I was attending college overseas. I also spent time learning the languages, cultures, and even business practices of some of our international partners, which as a CEO, is necessary for successful communication."

Mr. Sutherland's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He leaned back in his chair and pressed his lips together so tightly, that they nearly disappeared from his face.

Bruce adjusted his tie and turned to address the rest of the crowd. "As for my conduct in recent years, I will freely admit that I've made mistakes...as naive teenagers often do. I can't say my upbringing had anything to do with it since I had a fairly strong support system after my parents died. I have no excuse beyond my own recklessness. But I can promise that I've done some growing up since. I learned to recognize and appreciate the values my parents instilled in me. They raised me to respect my superiors...and even my opponents," he said with a look at Dorian. "My father also taught me to value this company and what it has done for our family and the prosperity of this city."

He leaned forward on the podium like he was putting the weight of his entire being into his words. "Ladies and gentlemen of the board...I'm not asking you to give me this position. All I'm asking for is a chance. A chance to prove how dedicated I am to Wayne Enterprises and just how serious I am about my responsibilities. A chance to prove that I can be the leader you need me to be, the one my parents wanted me to be, and the one Gotham is expecting me to be."

The board members looked at each other or down at the table, stunned into silence and waiting for someone to take the lead.

"Well...you've certainly given us a lot to consider," Regina said at last. "If nothing else, I hope the board agrees to allow Mr. Wayne to keep attending our quarterly meetings. We should also provide you with a master security key so that you can tour the building and its departments at your leisure."

"I would appreciate that." He clears his throat. "Before I relinquish the floor...I want to say that I respect the role this committee has to play in running this business and I will accept the decision you make regardless of the outcome."

"Thank you, Bruce."

Dorian, who looked as if he was using every ounce of willpower not to roll his eyes, straightened up in his chair. "The board will now take a closed vote on the motions that have been put forth today."

Dorian smacked the gavel against the block and everyone except the ruling eight made their way hastily out of the room.

...

Bruce paced in the open area outside the conference room for what felt like hours. The other board members left for lunch, expecting that the meeting wouldn't resume for some time. He briefly thought about doing the same, but just the thought of food was enough to activate his gag reflex. He even debated calling Selina just to hear some voice of reason, but not after the conversation they had that morning. He couldn't bear to see her or Alfred at the moment.

He said all he could say. He played the part he needed to, even if he did have a genuine interest in the company projects. He told himself throughout the week that he should have come to Wayne Enterprises the day he returned. At the very least, Dorian wouldn't have been able to use that against him...but it mattered little in the end. Dorian was going to do whatever it took to keep Bruce off the board for as long as possible, and the fact that he appeared so unbothered throughout the whole meeting told Bruce all he needed to know. It could have been an act, but he wasn't sure Dorian had the ability to withhold his smugness.

Bruce paused in front of the window, which peered out over the East End. That part of the city had become ingrained in Bruce's psychology. It was the place where his and Selina's childhoods ended and it was the place where he failed the first innocent person he should have saved. Now, he had to look at it from the room where his future would be decided any minute. It was taunting him. It was reminding him of his weakness...of his failures.

In the pocket of his suit jacket, Bruce felt his phone vibrate. It was a message from Grace McDouglas calling all board members back into the conference room. As he walked down the hallway, he could barely feel his feet touch the floor. He had lost all sensation in his own body. He pictured his father's face on that day fifteen years ago as they stood on the balcony. He had such faith that his son would succeed—even surpass—his greatest expectations. Now, his and Bruce's dreams hung in the balance. The trial was over, the jury decided. Now, for the verdict.

Once all the previous motions had been passed or denied, the time had finally come.

"Now, to address our final order of business. Mr. Wayne..."

Bruce instantly plunged back into reality. As Dorian prepared to speak, Bruce examined both sides of the long table. Everyone deliberately avoided eye contact with him. They played with odds and ends on the desk, studied the ceiling, or stared into the void of space. It was an obvious difference from the way they treated him earlier.

"The board has discussed your request at length," Dorian began, "and after great consideration, we have decided to deny your petition to become Chief Executive Officer," he declared, visibly withholding a smirk.

Bruce prepared himself to hear those fateful words, but their reality was entirely different. It took every ounce of willpower he could summon to maintain his composure. Dorian might have won, but he would never give the man the satisfaction of seeing him break, no matter the cause.

"While you presented your case with conviction and have shown unmistakable dedication to this company and its future," Dorian continued, "it is the committee's opinion that you are not yet prepared to resume the responsibilities involved with being the CEO. In the corporate hierarchy, the CEO is the highest-ranking officer on the board of directors, second only to the chairman. Chief Executive Officers must have extensive business and industry experience and only arrive at their positions after holding other senior-level posts for some time. It is also quite common for a CEO to have held one if not several different seats on the board beforehand, such as the Vice President, Chief Operating Officer, or Chief Financial Officer."

Bruce threw an instinctive glance at Michael Maganti, who was picking a piece of lettuce from his flawless teeth using the glass tabletop as a mirror. Lucius's theory instantly sprang to mind. Maganti was likely just a puppet for Dorian's ambition.

When he returned his attention to Dorian, however, he saw a slight crack in the man's smug appearance as he unfolded a piece of paper. "However, the board does recognize the legitimacy of your father's will. Therefore, you are entitled to Thomas Wayne's percentage of ownership and share of stock in Wayne Enterprises, which gives you certain privileges. The board has voted to give you a master security key to this building and all other Wayne Enterprises subsidiaries. Nevertheless, it is not a requirement in the corporate world for the legal owner of a company to serve as an officer on the board. You are more than free to delegate the task of running the business's daily operations to the CEO...in this case, Mrs. Zellerbach."

Regina gave Bruce an apologetic look. He returned it with a singular nod, but then stared at the floor.

"If there is no further business to discuss, this meeting is adjourned."

Everyone stood from their seats, anxious to escape the confines of that room, but Bruce remained seated. What else could he do? He had nowhere to go. It was made perfectly clear by the majority of his board that he was a thorn in their side and needed to be removed. He couldn't go home, or else risk an interrogation from his wife and his butler. His attempt at patrolling the city went horribly wrong, and his aching side was insisting that he not try it again any time soon.

What else did he have? Money? Empty, meaningless money that was earned for him by his parents. A home? A home filled with horrible reminders of the past, broken dreams, and hollow promises. A family? Half a family that he couldn't bring himself to face after the secrets he kept from them.

Nothing.

The sudden touch of a hand on his shoulder brought him back from his thoughts. He looked up to see Regina, whose kind face was weighed down by a look of disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. Really, I am."

Bruce shrugged and gave her the closest thing to a reassuring smile he could offer. "It's alright, Regina. It's not your fault."

"Maybe not entirely...but I could have fought harder. I thought that stepping back and letting you take center stage would show people the kind of leader you'd be. I should have sung your praises a little more—"

Bruce raised a hand to stop her. "That's not your responsibility. You have enough to worry about."

The two stood in silence as the rest of the room cleared out. Regina waited until they were out of earshot before she spoke again. "I was...outvoted."

He lifted his head. "Not that it matters now, but how many?"

She let out a deep breath. "Out of all eight...you got two votes. I'm not at liberty to say who the other was."

Bruce nodded. "Not that I expected any different...but I tried to hope."

Regina pulled over one of the chairs and sat across from him. "You can still hope, Bruce. Just because you can't be the CEO yet, doesn't mean you're prohibited from working. In fact, I think it would be wise for you to get a job here...maybe as an assistant to one of the branch directors. Or—better yet—start from the bottom and work your way up! The business is already yours. Look at it as a challenge! How fast can you climb the corporate ladder?"

Bruce shook his head and stared out the window. The view was a bit better this time. The boardroom windows faced Miagani Island, which was considerably more beautiful than the East End.

"You can't expect to lead an international multi-million dollar corporation without understanding the basics first," Regina continued. "That would be like trying to win the Kentucky Derby without ever having ridden a horse."

Bruce chuckled, but it wasn't out of humor. He knew she was right, but he couldn't help remembering what Selina said about the Zellerbachs bending to public pressure. The minute the vote was made, she started backpedaling and supporting the opposition's point of view.

"Did my father start from the bottom?"

Regina was surprised by this question. For a brief second, he thought he saw a hint of anger on her face, but she shook her head and looked away. She knew the answer as well as he did.

Bruce nodded again. "Understood."

He looked to his left, and through the doorway into the lobby, he spotted Dorian chatting with Michael Maganti, Richard Sutherland, and the board Treasurer as they headed to the elevator. They were barking with laughter, wide victorious smiles creasing their faces.

At this point, Bruce was certain Dorian was pulling strings. He noticed the change in the rest of the board members as soon as he came in. Bruce had most of them, he was fairly sure of it...but Dorian had to have said something to change their minds. Did he have something on them? Did he threaten them?

Bruce waited until they had gone down, then stood from the table and buttoned his jacket.

"Where are you off to?" Regina asked, her tone concerned.

Bruce turned and started walking toward the exit. "I don't know." He pushed open the double doors and gave Regina one last look over his shoulder. "I'll find out when I get there."