The Blackwell Legacy

Chapter 1

The City: Aqua City. It's breathtakingly beautiful. The kind of place you see in postcards and glossy travel ads. Towering skyscrapers that pierce the clouds, neon lights that dance on the surface of canals. But don't let the shine fool you—this city is as dangerous as it is gorgeous. Gotham may hold the crown for crime, but Aqua City is nipping at its heels.

Right now, though, I'm just trying to survive a more immediate danger: being late for school. Again.

Who am I, you ask? Good question. I could say I'm just a regular girl trying to make her way through life, but that'd be a lie. Truth is, I'm Bruce Wayne's daughter. Yeah, that Bruce Wayne. Billionaire. Or is it millionaire? Who even keeps track of that kind of money? Either way, he's the big-shot crime-fighting vigilante-slash-business mogul, and I'm his kid. Not that he'd admit it.

See, I'm the product of a one-night stand he probably regrets, and while he knows I exist, he made it pretty clear he doesn't want me around. "Too complicated," he said. "Not part of the plan," or whatever excuse he gave. I stopped caring.

So here I am, living with my mom in a cozy little house on the edge of the city. It's nothing fancy, but it's ours. She works hard to keep a roof over our heads, tending to her flowers in the yard after long shifts, always with a smile that feels like sunshine. She's my rock, the reason I'm still standing. I can't imagine what my life would've been like if I'd grown up in Bruce's shadow. The man's practically allergic to affection. His adoptive sons somehow tolerate him, but I don't get it. How do they live with a man who always puts the mission before family?

Ten minutes later, I'm sprinting through the school gates, my backpack bouncing against my shoulders. The hallways are mostly empty, the echoes of my rushed footsteps bouncing off the walls. I glance at my watch. Five minutes late. Great.

I slow to a jog as I reach my classroom door, taking a deep breath to steady myself before knocking. My hand hovers for a moment. The last thing I need is another lecture from the teacher. Still, I brace myself and rap on the door, muttering under my breath, "Here we go again."