Billion Dollar Vengeance

Chapter 1: Call Me Bruce

I gaze up at the giant, Gothic manor before me as my feet crunch on the small gravel. After months of being here five days a week, I still feel tiny and in awe of the sheer size of this place. Who in their right mind needs this much house?!

"Good morning, Miss Dory." I unload cleaning supplies from the back of the van as the attendant of Wayne manor comes out the back service entrance to greet me and my crew.

"Hello, sweetheart. What rooms are you tackling today?" Her wrinkled hands are clasped in front of her uniformed stomach.

I glance at the two women with me, Carly and Stella. "Well, we haven't touched Mr. Wayne's bedroom in over a month. I'd really like to get to it today if I can."

Miss Dory purses her lips. "Mr. Wayne is asleep right now. If he wakes in time, I will come fetch you to clean his room."

I give her a smile instead of the sigh that comes naturally. Bruce Wayne is almost always sleeping when we come. If he doesn't clean himself, I'm sure his bedroom, office, and bathroom are filthy. "In that case, we'll get to the kitchen, the foyer, the front sitting room, and the two dining rooms today."

Miss Dory bows her head, and returns inside to get back to her business.

"You really think he's home every day? Or that he just doesn't want anyone in his room." Carly looks down at Stella from her considerable height, wiggling her thin eyebrows.

Stella shakes her head, messy bun flopping on top. "I doubt he's home. He probably just has important paperwork spread all over his desk."

Carly leans down to whisper. "Top secret paperwork."

They laugh.

"Enough. No talk of that." I grab my cleaning bucket of supplies, lightweight vacuum, and floor steamer.

The other two follow with their own supplies up to the service entrance, a thick metal door with no window. "Carly, why don't you do the dining rooms today. Stella- the sitting room. I'll take the kitchen and the foyer."

We split up when we enter the main house from the staff hallway. The place always smells a little stale. Even though we're here every weekday, we can't possibly get to every room. But I suppose it's cheaper for Mr. Wayne to pay me and my small crew every day than it would be to pay a large cleaning company once a week.

I stay on the main level of the manor to get to the kitchen, passing ornate gothic architecture I used to find captivating and mesmerizing. It's still beautiful, but now I mostly think of all the dust and cobwebs that gather. It is, however, my favorite time of day to be at Wayne manor. The morning sun shines through the windows and casts beautiful shadows on the floors and walls, and the rain has yet to settle in over Gotham. It's just after breakfast, so the kitchen is empty of staff.

But this morning, the kitchen isn't empty. I stop in my tracks, almost dropping my bucket on the stone floor. Sitting on a stool at the industrial metal island, slumped over a bowl of uneaten cereal, straight dark hair obscuring his eyes down to his square angular jaw, is Bruce Wayne. I pull one of my headphones out to stop the music playing in my ears.

"Mr. Wayne. Excuse me. I'll come back later." I'm not sure he heard me enter the kitchen, but he looks up as my foot slides back toward the swinging door.

Hair still obscuring his face, his blue eyes with tired circles under them meet mine. He holds my gaze, the rest of his face slack with emotionless thoughts. "No. Please, go ahead. I can go."

He starts to stand up, sending me into panic mode. I've never met this man before. Not only is he my employer, but he's also the wealthiest man in Gotham. "It's no problem. You haven't gotten a chance to even eat. I can start somewhere else."