Chapter 42 (edited)

Facing Bruce, who had changed into formal attire, Kara also asked him to strike a few poses. This was for the cover photo, replacing his previous unkempt look.

Bruce was helplessly manipulated by her, very compliant—at least he didn't want his previous photos to be published.

"It seems you understand the importance of appearances," Kara teased with a smile. "I thought you didn't care about that."

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle. "I recall you weren't much better off back then, right?"

The two were referring to their past encounters while traveling the world, a time when neither of them was in great shape.

Kara shrugged. After snapping the photos, she put the camera away and then brought out a voice recorder, setting it aside. She also pulled out a notebook and pen, gesturing silently that it was time to begin.

Bruce sighed. "You'd better treat me to dinner. This interview is bound to make you a fortune."

"My fortune is nothing compared to yours, Bruce," Kara retorted without missing a beat.

Bruce was about to comment on the uninhabited gold mines and the diamond vein she had found, but Kara quickly raised her hand in a silencing gesture.

"Shh, Bruce. Those mines belong to other countries. I can only secretly extract a little at best."

"Alright, let's officially begin," Kara said as she shifted into her professional demeanor. "Mr. Wayne, you disappeared for seven years, leaving your university studies unfinished. Where have you been all this time?"

Bruce nearly quipped, "Don't you already know?" but noticed the threatening look in Kara's eyes. Wisely, he changed his response.

"I've spent the past years broadening my horizons," he replied. "I've traveled to many places to grow as a person. At least I feel I'm much more mature now than I was before."

"So, are you planning to take over Wayne Enterprises now that you've returned?"

"Not exactly. While the company is indeed part of the Wayne family legacy, it's doing well under its current management. I trust their decision-making will only make Wayne Enterprises stronger."

"Including the decision by Mr. Earle to take the company public and sell off a large number of shares for cash?" Kara asked sharply, her tone cutting through the room.

The question startled Bruce. It insinuated that Wayne Enterprises' executive, Earle, was planning to sell the company—an act that could destabilize Gotham City's economy. Wayne Enterprises was a cornerstone of Gotham, providing countless jobs and playing a pivotal role in the city's development. Its contributions, especially under Bruce's father, Thomas Wayne, had once saved the city from collapse during an economic depression.

Faced with the pointed question, Bruce hesitated. Officially, he had no control over the company's decisions. Yet behind the scenes, he had already started taking measures to reclaim his family's legacy.

But he couldn't reveal any of this—not to Kara, not for publication.

"I believe this will ultimately benefit Wayne Enterprises," he said diplomatically.

Kara raised an eyebrow but didn't push further, noting his evasive answer.

"Let's move on," she said. "Recently, there have been reports that since your return, you've been frequenting high-society parties, often spending lavishly and mingling with celebrities. There's even a rumor you bought a hotel for a group of actors. Is this part of a business strategy, or is it just the hobby of a playboy?"

"Do you have to be so scathing?" Bruce groaned, exasperated by her relentless questioning.

The truth was, his behavior was a calculated act. By day, Bruce played the role of a carefree socialite to distract from his nighttime activities. After returning to Gotham, he had discovered that the city was even darker than he had imagined. Carmine Falcone, a crime boss, had entrenched himself deeply into Gotham's fabric, controlling both its criminal underworld and its legitimate institutions.

Conventional methods would never work against someone like Falcone. Taking Alfred's advice, Bruce had donned a mask—literally and figuratively. By night, he became a shadowy figure, gathering evidence against Falcone while maintaining his carefree facade during the day.

But none of this could be disclosed to Kara, much less printed in her column.

"News needs drama, Bruce," Kara said unapologetically. "You know how the media works—anything for clicks and views. Truth often takes a backseat."

Bruce shook his head with a rueful smile. "Isn't it unprofessional to admit that?"

Kara smirked. "Relax, Bruce. I have my own column now. I'm not a journalist bound by strict rules."

"That's great for you, but what about everyone else?"

Kara's expression suddenly turned serious. "And another thing," she said, her voice taking on an accusatory edge. "Your antics are hurting people. Do you know that?"

"Who exactly? You?" Bruce teased, grinning mischievously.

Kara rolled her eyes and smacked her notebook. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm talking about Jennifer. Remember her? She liked you back in school and has stayed single all these years, waiting for you. I honestly don't know what's wrong with you, Bruce. You're a heartbreaker."

Bruce chuckled, though his smile faltered slightly. Kara was just a friend—there had never been anything romantic between them, despite their close bond. His heart had always belonged to someone else, and he had known from the start that he wasn't Kara's type.

"I think we're done here," Kara declared, closing her notebook. "But you owe me dinner."

Bruce sighed in defeat. "Fine. Just don't make this headline too outrageous."

Kara grinned but didn't make any promises.