Gotham had always taken pride in being a melting pot of culture and opportunity, once positioning itself as the new empire of the United States. For a time, it enjoyed a booming economy, rent control, and some of the lowest unemployment rates in the country. Things seemed good, or at least that's what the media portrayed. However, if you stopped and talked to the everyday people—the 9-to-5 workers—they would share a different story. They might tell you about the lack of healthcare, the skyrocketing cost of living, or how the streets are filled with homeless individuals because a maniac destroyed their home while those in power have done nothing to fix it. There is a darkness looming over Gotham, fueled by corporate greed. The people of Gotham are desperate for change.
With each passing day, the citizens of Gotham, battered yet resilient, felt their plight grow heavier. They clung to a flicker of hope that perhaps—just perhaps—meaningful change was on the horizon, a chance to wrest their city back from the brink of despair and restore the promise of a better future for all.
Delilah, however, was more of a realist than an optimist. It did not matter that some vigilante was running around serving justice where the system had failed or that a billionaire with a recognized family name occasionally donated money. Was it necessary for Gotham to have another building named Wayne? What about the people left homeless after the east side flooded? What about them? No, it was all just politics; real change would never happen because everyone who was supposed to help had their hands tied in something more self-serving. It was the same with the politicians in D.C. Delilah felt she was the only one who could see this.
Delilah would wake up each day and go to work, hardly making ends meet, yet she had to do it with a smile. For the most part, Delilah's life was average. She worked full-time as a waitress at a corner diner in downtown Gotham. In her thirties now, she embraced the mundane; her childhood had been chaotic, so she cherished the quiet moments she found in her life. Her job was not glamorous, but it paid the bills, kept a roof over her head, and was honest work—something anyone could be proud of.
Today, Delilah's usual routine was interrupted. She usually would rush to the subway, barely making it to work on time. However, today, the subway system crashed, causing her and what felt like the entire city of Gotham to rely on city buses instead. It wouldn't have been an issue, but the buses were underfunded and could not accommodate the increase in passengers, resulting in them running two hours late. With insufficient cash for an Uber, Delilah had no other choice. As a result, she would be working extra hours to make up for the time she had lost.
Delilah was currently working a double shift. The dinner hours differed from the bustling breakfast and lunch periods, always packed with customers. On the rare occasions when she worked nights, Delilah was fortunate if she got five tables; most of the time, she found herself cleaning or standing around, sipping coffee, and watching the news. Tonight was no different. However, Delilah was not alone in the café; one regular customer had been there for hours. He often came in by himself, usually at least once a week. Occasionally, The man would bring one or two people with him, but it was always during the quiet morning hours when there were fewer patrons. However, staying as long as he had seemed out of place. But she figured he probably needed some time alone, so she did not think much of it.
He was a heavier-set man with noticeable facial scars and a limp. Delilah had no issues with him; he was always polite and never bothered anyone. He also helped little old ladies at the door more than once. However, some of her coworkers felt uncomfortable around him. He reminded Delilah of the men from her neighborhood growing up, so perhaps she was accustomed to that type of person.
If anything, Delilah was more curious about him. He always dressed well, tipped generously, and carried a lot of cash. She suspected he might be a club owner, but gossip among her coworkers suggested he had mob ties.
Oswald had been frequenting this diner for some time. It offered a sense of normalcy he had lost years ago. Oswald was a man of the people, but if he were to be honest, he was feeling a bit stressed, which was strange: Oswald was the new Kingpin of Gotham City, and he had it under control. However, with the good always comes the bad. He had a falling out with Eve, but that wasn't the crushing part. He had to let his mother go. Her condition had rapidly deteriorated, and it became borderline cruel to keep her around like that.
Despite the personal losses, big things were happening. With the Felcone and Maroni families out of the way, Oswald had the freedom to shape Gotham according to his vision, starting with his club. He was revamping it, and now that he had total control, he intended to create something grand.
The free time he currently had was one of the reasons he spent so much time at the diner, but it wasn't the only one. They had the best pastrami sandwich he had ever tasted—a solid draw for a big man like him. But there was another reason: he had a crush on the waitress. What was her name? Dhalia? Donna? No, Delilah. She had that shy, girl-next-door charm that he found irresistible, with big brown doe eyes and the sweetest voice. Not that he enjoyed sniffing women, but she always smelled so good, like vanilla. Yes, she was cute as hell.
Oswald had been sitting in his booth for hours. He always chose the large round table in the back for privacy; it provided an excellent vantage point to observe his surroundings. It wasn't his style to bother people while they worked, and Oswald couldn't understand why some people found it so difficult to let others do their fucking jobs. Delilah, in particular, was not the type to engage in casual conversation with her customers, so he left her alone. She reminded him of a wild animal Oswald was trying to coax out of hiding. He knew he had to be slow and gentle.
As the night wore on, Oswald drank his coffee, checked his phone, took a few calls, and read the latest articles in the Gotham Times. Now, he was working on the daily crossword while stealing glances at his new obsession as she moved around the restaurant before heading out for the night.
"52 down is the Appalachians," Delilah said casually, breaking the silence that filled the establishment. Chuckling at his puzzled expression, she looked up from filling his empty creamer dish. It seemed he wanted to ask how the fuck Delilah knew that but was too polite to do so." I cheated and looked in the back," she shrugged before returning to the counter.
Delilah began cleaning out the dessert case while quietly observing the man. She watched as he started packing up his belongings and felt an unusual urge to converse with him. Although she was typically shy about initiating chats, he frequented the place often. What was the harm in being friendly?
"What's your name again? I know you've told me before, but it's slipping my mind."
Smirking to himself, Oswald stood up and slipped his phone into his back pocket before turning slightly to look at Delilah."I'm Oswald, "he said.
"I'm curious. Do you own the Iceberg Lounge?"Delilah asked as he walked over to the counter.
"I do," Oswald replied leaning against the counter.
"I was right," Delilah smirked, knowing she had just won a bet with a coworker. As she reflected on it, she realized she had seen his name in the news a few times, and not all of it was positive, but that wasn't her concern. Oswald certainly had an intimidating presence, and she finally gathered the courage to break the ice. She was determined not to bring up any sensitive topics.
Licking his lips, Oswald leaned forward. Cocking his brow, he looked up at the brunette and playfully asked, "Have you been talking about me or somethin'?"
"Oooh yeah, "Delilah laughed."You've been quite a topic of discussion for a while."She pulled a slice of cake from the case and placed it on the counter, then glanced at Oswald, who had been curiously watching her."Not in a bad way; you seem like an interesting man."
"I often hear that; I'm an acquired taste."He was intrigued by her willingness to engage so candidly. She exuded elegance, and he was determined to earn her trust.
With a playful shrug of her shoulders, she replied, "Honestly, you seem fine to me, "She flashed him a warm, encouraging smile.
"Well aren't you a sweetheart, You're gonna give me a toothache."
Delilah playfully rolled her eyes while wiping down the counter."So, Oswald, are you remodeling your business? I heard it had been closed."
"Well, people have been talking, haven't they?" he said casually."Yup. I have big plans for the place."He added coolly, trying to keep the conversation light. Clearing his throat, he stepped back and gave her a quick once-over."If you're looking for a new stable, I could use some of your giddy-up."His motives might have been selfish, but he could use someone like her.
Delilah was trying to be friendly and did not anticipate a job offer. She had never set foot in his establishment; it was elite, catering to the wealthy of the wealthy, and everyone was aware of that. The idea of working in such a prestigious place was an enticing attraction." I am looking for a new job. I will think about it," she said.
Oswald winked and tossed some cash on the counter. He didn't even bother counting it; there was more than enough. But after a second thought, he threw a few extra bucks in for good measure.
"Wait before you leave! Do you want to take this with you?"Delilah said with a smile, holding up the cake she had set out."It's Italian Cream."She teased, trying to persuade him."If you don't take it, I'll have to throw it away. It's the last one, and it makes me sad to think it will end up in the trash."
"I've never been one to turn down cake," Oswald teased, a playful grin spreading across his face as he patted his stomach. The younger woman chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. His gaze followed her hands as she delicately placed the cake into a beautifully decorated container, securing it with a vibrant ribbon that danced in the air like a promise.
As he watched Delilah tenderly present the dessert, a mixture of admiration and desire surged. His eager appetite would soon undo her hard work. Yet, that was not the only craving stirring in his heart; Delilah had something about her that ignited a fire he hadn't anticipated.
Oswald smirked, the corners of his mouth hinting at mischief. He was used to getting what he wanted, no matter the cost—this time, though, it felt like he was on the brink of wanting more than just the sweet treat before him. The thought sent a thrill through him, and he leaned closer, his mind racing with possibilities.
"Enjoy."Delilah innocently handed the package to her new acquaintance.
Oswald nodded and made his way to the door. Slowly turning on his heel, a charming smile played on his lips. "See you around, doll face,"he said, his voice deep, before leaving into the night.
Delilah blushed, feeling her cheeks flush at the way he called her that. Leaning over the counter, she watched as the door closed behind him. He wasn't someone she would ever pursue, but he exuded confidence, and after talking to him, she found that she genuinely liked him.
Sighing, she reached for the money he had left on the counter but immediately noticed something unusual—it was a significantly large amount. Panic set in as she thought there must be some mistake. After counting it, she realized more than three hundred dollars was sitting there. She quickly ran outside, hoping to catch him, but he was already gone.
"What the fuck?"She mumbled quietly to herself.
The devil always had a way of getting to his angel.