Merde !Marinette, the Wayne heir, the Wayne tech, Putain!

So the one whose snooping their secret is him, someone has a rich backing, of course, she’s not surprised. Someone high up the ladder would know their identity, but why?

What did he want?

Worse case scenario he is Chrysalis ,but the supervillain lives in París for six months, he can’t be him.

Judging their scuffle chase this morning ,he didnt know the place well, he looks a tourist.

She get his name Damian Wayne, a billionaire son would terrorizing Paris from afar? Even she couldn’t believe it.

She quickly lowered herself, praying he wouldn’t notice her, but her luck was terrible; she suspected he knew who she was and moved away as he paused, a smile fixed on his face.

She ran. Subtlety wasn’t an option; her life, and her family’s, was at stake. Her parents were there! The thought of getting caught terrified her. He bet he has connections that will put herself behind bar.

She concealed herself within a pillar, attempting to minimize her presence, as the expansive Paris Hotel was a labyrinth of interconnected rooms. She slipped into one of them, disheveled, her life spiraling into chaos ever since she entrusted the kwami box to Alya with no chance of reversal.

Master Fu leaving and then becoming Multimouse showcased her adeptness at hiding, as she navigates through corridors.

If they catch her here, her life will be ruined, and her best friend’s secrets will also be revealed.

She had to reach Alya, requiring a hotel phone in the first-floor lobby, however, she was on the third floor, and time was of the essence.

Looking behind, she saw no sign of the Wayne Heir.

The tourist with a billion trust fund know Alya’s secrets ,Puzzled by how he discovered Ladybug’s true identity.

She quickly dodged away from the door once more. Glancing from right to left, she evaluates her requirements, understanding she needs additional information, and retrieves the phone from her apron, searching for it.

Hold on, where the heck did it go?

Frantically searching, she realized the item was not in her apron or back pocket.

Merde!

It’s in the staff room, isn’t it? Clumsy Marinette makes another blunder, typical life, why now?

She had to retrace her steps, yes, return to the main function room to cross the gala.

He cannot have his phone, as he will use the data for his nefarious purpose. She can’t let the miraculous befall to bad actors.

Steadied herself, change of plan. Breath Marinette, take the phone and slip away, its sounds easy.

Marinette leapt onto another floor, tumbling down as she crawled away, not wanting to be seen by any onlookers. As she tried to hide,
she heard the door slam.

Eeep. She covered her own mouth.

She darted to the brown mahogany drawer, opened it, and slipped right in, quietly closing the hinge just enough to see who entered.
And to her horror, It was him.
Damian Wayne.

Intense-looking, moving like he owned the place, his eyes swept across the room with surgical precision, as he began to search every nook and cranny.

Anticipation. Dread. Horror.

It was here—her end. She would be caught.
Trying not to make a sound, her face buried in her hands, disheveled and in tears,she truly believed her life had come to an end.

Kwami, save me.

Time seemed to slow as anticipation filled her, a million thoughts racing through her mind. As he approached her hiding spot, the tip of his sleek brown shoes barely made a sound near her hiding place.

If worst comes to worst, she will have to fight fiercely, fighting tooth and nail. Billionare be damm.

With the hinges barely open and creaking, his face looks down at the drawer, his sleek black brushed-up hair and eyes fixed on it. Any minute now, she steadied herself as he slowly raised his hand to grab the handle.

When.

”Damian?”

He comes to a standstill. He turned away, silently forgetting the drawer.

”Your here, thank the heavens!”

The new voice ,female sounded familiar, but Damian was covering her.
They gently nudged each other, hugging like old, lost lovers.

Did she care?
No. Not really.

But there was something tugging at her mind.She couldn’t breathe.

So the Wayne heir had someone.
What did that matter to her? It was outside her business.

Then why did she feel disappointed? Wasn’t this supposed to be a relief?

What was wrong with her?

Marinette, don’t get sidetracked. Listen to what they’re saying.

Their arms are still wrapped around each other, showing no sign of breaking apart, while she listens to the girl murmuring.

“Damian, oh I miss you, but we dont have time, have you read the encrypted files that I sent you?”

”What enrypted files? Tt. My phone was stolen this morning.”

“Do you believe they committed the act?”

”I’m suspicious, a girl had it, but I’m unsure if it’s related since I have her phone.”

“Do you remember her face?”

”Yes, in fact she’s here, I recognized her she’s a server here. Im looking for her right now.”

“Do you think she’s working with them?
Not important. We need to get the phone.

The data I sent you ,it’s the only encrypted file that exists.
I fried the original. And if they have it we’re screwed. Paris is in danger.

This is bigger than me.Bigger than all of us.

I took their keys, but their plan starts tonight.Damian…”her lips quivered, voice cracking with dread.

“I’m scared.If they win the blood of all Paris will be mine.”

”Do not fret, Ukht! I’m here, I’m here, and I won’t let them hurt you again. We’ll end this crisis.

Its been three long years, you havent contacted us, Goliath had missed you.”

While Damian was stroking the girl, Marinette contemplated the meaning behind her words. Paris in danger, them? Who? they thought She’s working from someone higher up? whats going on.

“Not time to dilly dally,” she muttered, pacing, her fingers digging into her sleeves, trembling.

“Must find the girl… take the phone… and leave this godforsaken city.”

She turned away, breathing shallow. “I’m done.”

Her knees buckled as she leaned against the wall, sliding down, arms wrapped around herself.

“I don’t want to continue the mission.”
Her voice cracked.

“Damian… I want to go home.”

A breath hitched in her throat.

“They broke me. I don’t know who I am anymore.”
She looked at him, hollow-eyed.

“I’m nobody.”

Damian moved forward. Firm. He knelt beside her, hands gripping her shoulders.

“You matter,” he said, his voice quiet yet firm.

“You’re my Ukth.”
His forehead met hers.
“We’re going to take the phone and we’re going to stop them.”

He pulled her into a fierce embrace.
“Believe in me.”

This raw emotion that Marinette is seeing, hearing—
she can’t believe it.

She thinks this is a private moment she’s intruding on.

But Kwami, why put her in this situation in the first place?

If her goddamn kleptomania hadn’t made it worse,
she wouldn’t be here now caught up in a secret mission
between the Wayne Heir and this mystery girl.

Ugh.
Why does it need to be so complicated?

As she peers through the half-open hinge,
she gets a glimpse of the girl and in dawning horror, she recognizes her.

Long, flowing noodle-hair,
tanned skin,those voluminous curves,and those teary eyes.

the eyes of a lying bitch.

Putain.

It’s Lila Rossi.