As I pushed through the imposing wrought-iron gates, a wave of opulence hit me square in the chest. Helena's mansion sprawled before me like a misplaced Vegas casino that had swallowed a museum whole. Marble columns, manicured lawns, fountains too pristine to feel real.

I adjusted my suit. It fit fine, but no amount of tailoring would stop me from feeling like a fraud in this world. My shoulders stayed stiff, like I was bracing to be security-tackled and tossed back to my side of town any moment.

"Confidence," I muttered under my breath. "Don't fuck this up. Don't set anything on fire."

The driveway was a parade of wealth, chauffeurs in tuxedos rushing to open the doors for the guests dripping in diamonds. Squaring my shoulders, I stalked towards the double oak doors.

As I got closer, the clinking of glasses and rumble of voices got louder. The knot in my stomach tightened. But there was no turning back now.

The second I stepped inside, it hit me.

The smell slammed into me, earthy and musky, like damp leather left out in the rain. It wrapped around me, crawling up my nose and lodging itself in the back of my throat. I froze mid-step, my heart hammering against my ribs, the warm glow of crystal chandeliers and the sea of guests melting into one overwhelming haze. That scent. It was unmistakable.

It was him.

No. It couldn't be.

My spine went rigid as the laughter and chatter faded into a muffled hum. All I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears.

My gaze darted through the crowd, scanning faces I didn't know, suits and gowns that blurred together. Panic threatened to paralyze me, but I forced myself to move. One foot in front of the other. Keep it together. He was here, somewhere. But who?

"Clark! You're here!"

Helena's voice brought me back to reality. Before I could react, she swept me into a hug, her jasmine scent cutting through the musk like a breath of fresh air. But it wasn't enough to chase it away. I stiffened for a second before reciprocating, albeit cautiously.

She pulled back, her dark eyes scanning my face. "You alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Just... taking it all in," I muttered, forcing a smile.

She tilted her head, her raven hair cascading over one shoulder. She looked stunning in a deep purple dress that clung to her like a second skin. The sight of her was almost enough to pull me out of my head.

Focus, Clark. Find him.

"Well, you clean up nice," she teased, her eyes flicking to my suit. "Though you look like you're ready to punch someone."

I snorted, feeling a rush of warmth. "Gotta make an effort," I replied. "Your place is insane." I nodded toward the opulent surroundings.

She laughed, threading her arm through mine. "Stick with me. It gets easier when you have a drink in your hand."

I flashed a grin and let her lead me toward the bar, my eyes darting to every corner. The scent was everywhere, clinging to the banisters, the velvet curtains, the gilded frames of paintings that probably cost more than I'd ever make. My muscles tightened with every step, but I forced myself to keep the mask intact.

"So," I said, trying to look calm, "does your family have... guests staying here?"

Helena shot me a curious look. "No. Why?"

"No reason."

At the bar, she ordered champagne with a flick of her wrist, as effortless as breathing. I turned toward the crowd, my gaze skimming the faces, searching for a phantom that might not even exist. I couldn't pinpoint the scent, it was like it was woven into this place.

"Clark," Helena said, nudging my arm. "Relax. You're acting like you're expecting someone to jump out and attack you."

"I'm fine," I said, grabbing the flute of champagne the bartender slid my way. "Just... this isn't my scene."

She smiled. "You're doing fine. Just be yourself."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Trust me, being myself wouldn't go over too well here." It would probably get me kicked out on my ass, or most likely locked into a high security facility.

So, what's the story behind this gala?" I asked. "I mean, besides being a chance to show off your pretty dress and charm all these eligible bachelors," I added with a playful smirk.

Helena chuckled, shaking her head. "This is one of the city's biggest charity events," she explained. "My family's foundation hosts one every year. Dad's got a soft spot for philanthropy."

"Ah, I see," I replied, mustering a smile. "That's quite noble of him."

"Yeah. Noble." She sighed softly, her expression faltering just for a moment. "It's a pity he couldn't make it tonight. I wanted you to meet him."

I swallowed, hiding my relief behind another sip of champagne. "Oh, that's alright," I replied. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of other opportunities for me to embarrass myself in front of him."

Helena was about to say something else when her gaze darted to a sharply dressed guy standing near the bar. She gently tugged him closer. "Clark, meet my brother," she introduced. "Damian, this is Clark. He goes to Gotham A. too."

Damian extended a hand. His green eyes bored into mine, dissecting me. He looked like Helena, but younger.

My jaw tightened, but I played it cool, extending my hand and putting all my focus into gauging just the right amount of pressure for the handshake.

"Pleasure," Damian rumbled in his alto voice. "I've heard... interesting things about you."

"Likewise," I replied, with a small nod of my head. "Didn't realize you were also in the Academy."

Damian gave me a tight-lipped smile, clearly recalling our previous encounter. "Cybersecurity program," he said curtly.

Helena stepped between us her laugh a little too bright. "Alright, boys, let's keep it friendly. Damian, stop scaring my friend."

Damian's gaze flicked to my chest, then back to my face. I clenched my jaw.

A tray of champagne flutes wobbled past us, balanced precariously on the hand of a passing waiter. As the crowd jostled, the tray tipped, one glass teetering on the edge.

Instinct kicked in before I could think. My hand shot out, snatching the glass mid-air just as it began to fall. The movement was fast, too fast, and the stem of the flute cracked in my grip.

Shit. Why didn't I just let it fall?

Instinct. Pure, unthinking reflex. But that didn't stop the frustration rising in my chest. I'd done this before, too many times. Acted before I thought, drawn attention where I didn't need it.

Helena blinked, then grinned. "Wow, nice save."

"Impressive," Damian cut in. "But you should watch your grip." He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as they darted from the glass to my hand. My throat tightened, heat prickling at the back of my neck. Was he implying something?

No. He couldn't. Crystal is fragile, even for the average man. I was just overthinking.

I handed the broken flute back to the waiter, shrugging. "I played baseball in high school," I said, the lie sliding out too easily. "Guess some habits stick."

"Damian," Helena said, nudging him lightly, "stop being weird."

He let out a small scoff, his eyes flickering towards a group of suited men across the room. "I've got business to attend to," he announced, before turning away, leaving us standing at the bar.

"Well, that was fun while it lasted." I muttered.

"Don't mind him," Helena said, nudging me with her elbow. "He's a little intense."

"Intense?" I echoed, arching an eyebrow. "He looks at people like he's already decided where to bury them."

Helena laughed and a second later, I sensed a familiar presence approaching. A burst of fiery red hair caught my eye, Barbara Gordon swiping into view. Her green eyes locked on Helena first, then flicked to me.

"Barbara," Helena greeted. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

"Fashionably late," Barbara gave Helena a quick hug. Then she turned to me. "Clark, didn't recognize you in a suit. Big improvement."

"Thanks, I guess." I replied, my grin lopsided. "Don't get used to it."

She glanced in the direction Damian had disappeared. "What's up with him? He stormed off like he's got a broomstick up his ass."

"If you find out, let me know," I said dryly.

Helena swatted my arm lightly. "Be nice. That's my brother."

"Just saying," I added with a shrug.

With Barbara officially joining the party, Helena snagged a flute from a passing tray and handed it to her. "Here, have a drink with us."

Barbara raised the glass with a mock toast. "Don't mind if I do."

I couldn't resist bringing up Pete's little debt. "Speaking of drinks, Pete did mention something about that. I think he owes you one?"

"Oh, absolutely. And I plan on collecting." Barbara answered with a mischievous smile.

Helena laughed softly, but my focus was already slipping. I shifted my weight and glanced around the room again. My gaze kept catching on shadows that didn't move the way they should. Every time I thought I'd pinpointed the source of the scent, it slipped away, leaving me more on edge.

"Clark," Helena said, pulling me back into the moment. "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."

I forced a grin. "Long day. I think I need to call it a night."

Helena tilted her head."You sure? We just got started."

Barbara took a sip from her flute, raising a brow at me. "You tapping out already? You're not sick, are you?"

A gentle hand on my arm startled me. I turned to find Helena, her face etched with concern. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Sick of crowds," I said, the words sharper than I intended. "It's nothing personal. I just need some air."

"Hey," Helena said, frowning softly, "if you need to leave, that's fine. Let me walk you out."

Barbara gave a small wave, a knowing smirk on her lips. "Don't let us stop you. I'll keep Helena entertained."

As we stepped out into the cool night air, my lungs dragged in the fresh oxygen like it was my first real breath in hours.

Helena studied my face. "Better?"

"Much," I said, though my gut was still in knots.

She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. For a second, I stood there stiff as a board, caught off guard by the warmth of her body pressed against mine. Then I caved, my hands hovering awkwardly before resting on her back, careful not to hold her too tight. The hug didn't last long, but her warmth seeped into me, quieting the chaos in my head just enough to make me forget about everything else for a moment.

When she pulled back, her hands lingered on my arms, her eyes catching mine. There was something there but it slipped away just as quickly as it had appeared.

"I'll call you tomorrow," she whispered.

I nodded. "Thanks for inviting me."

She smiled, stepping back as I turned toward the street.

As I stepped out of Helena's estate, the moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale glow over the empty suburban streets. The neighborhood was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the distant hum of traffic and the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

I walked down the darkened sidewalk, mind split between the lingering warmth of Helena's hug and the gnawing unease I'd carried with me all night.

Suddenly, my heart leaped into my throat as I sensed a presence lurking nearby. Every hair on my neck stood on end, as my senses flared, zeroing in on the shadows just ahead.

He's here. Watching me.

I stopped dead, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My mind ran through a thousand outcomes, most of them bad. If I move now, I risk exposing myself. If I don't, he gets away again. I couldn't bear the thought of letting this bastard hunt me down forever like some goddamn animal.

I focused my senses, honing in on my surroundings.

There it was, the unmistakable thump of an accelerated heartbeat. My nostrils flared, pulling in the scent of leather and damp earth. His scent.

Gotcha.

He was close. I could hear his breaths now, trying too hard to be quiet. But to me, they were deafening. My muscles tensed, the decision snapping into place before I could second-guess it. Fuck it. No more running. I shifted my stance and steadied my breathing, forcing my racing heart to slow as I prepared to move.