The Queen of Gotham

Chapter 1

I look at myself in the mirror of my one bedroom apartment, and sigh as I stare at myself. I start my first day at my new job soon, and I'm more nervous than I have ever been before.

My eyes move from my favorite red blouse to my black pencil skirt, then lower to my black pumps. I look back up at my own baby blue eyes that are rimmed in black square glasses. My blonde hair is pulled back in a tight bun at the base of my neck.

I pick at the red nail polish on my fingernails, blowing out at the strand of hair that refuses to work with me this morning. My phone starts going off, alerting me that I have exactly 10 minutes to get across town to work.

Sighing once more, I walk over to my dresser and pick up my purse as I stuff my keys inside. I lock my front door and head down to the lobby.

Getting outside, I go to my beat up red convertible. I sit in the drivers seat and put my purse in the seat beside me. I wait for my car to warm up since the cool autumn air breezes by outside. It's almost Thanksgiving, which is in two months, and I begin to dread the holidays coming.

Without meaning to, my eyes drift to my split lip as I look in the rear view mirror. Last night had been a bad night for me. I never knew someone could change so much in a span of a few years. I can't go to my parents because my mother is dead and my dad hates me more than the dirt on his shoes. No matter what I did, I will always be seen as a mistake and a disappointment.

A tear goes down my face and I wipe it off quickly. No, Harleen! You know the rule! I shake my head free from the painful memories and head off to work.

I've never told anyone about the shit I've been through, and I don't plan to either. I learned that lesson the hard way long ago, when I told one of my teachers as a kid. It's best to be seen and not heard. That is what a woman is supposed to do, but I can't seem to get that through my head. One word to anyone about anything leaves me getting hurt instead of saved like I've hoped.

There has been only one time my dad had ever been happy with me. The night I introduced my boyfriend 4 years ago. They clicked immediately due to the fact that they are both CEO's of two companies. They decided to merge them and become work partners. That was the first time my father ever looked at me like a person instead of a piece of shit. I'd give anything to see that look on his face again, no matter what I would have to do.

I pull up to the dull and gloomy building that I now work at. Finding the space with my name in front of it, I park and get out of the car. These building look older than my car and have vine like plants growing on them. The windows are clear and bulletproof with the doors made of dark wood.

I walk inside and gasp in shock. The inside looks nothing like the outside. All the furniture is metal and the floor is a pure white tile. The stone walls look clean with painting as pictures lining them.

I look up and see that the only bad thing is the ceiling. I can see the pipes and they even have that is what painted on them. (Gas, water, ect.)

"Well, that's an accident begging to happen." I mumble to myself. A simple bullet could hit the gas line and everything would explode. Why be so reckless when housing a bunch of psychotics and maniacs? I'm so caught up in thought that I don't see the security guard walk up to me.

"Can I help you, miss?" I jump at his voice and spin around to see his face. He's a tall African American with short dark hair and soft brown eyes. His laugh lines and crinkles around his eyes show off his age, but he seems like a very happy man.

"Yes, please. This is my first day and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do." I got accepted immediately over the phone, which seemed very odd at the time. Maybe they really need new doctors?