The revelation that Lila repulses Marinette, her longtime enemy, is friendly with Damian Wayne. 

Things aren't as straightforward as they seem. Lila sent the encrypted files, exposing Alya's identity.

Alya and Lila were best friends for the last two years until Marinette found out about her lies, showed Alya the truth, and they split up. Lila had always picked on her. Since shes's obsessed with Adrien.

In revenge, she revealed her stalker’s actions to the class. Her friends, though mad, are all guilty for allowing her actions. Dismissing it as mere puppy love. Her unintentional misconduct has, unfortunately, caused Adrien pain.

Grateful to Alya and her friends still believe in her. but the link to Adrien had been severed. Teared. Pulverise into smithereens by that lying bitch. 

The truth that Lila, a liar, actually knew the Wayne heir is something she can’t comprehend. Naturally, that awful person has befriended someone like her. An untruthful woman and a rude American.

Still, she is confused about what “ukth” refers to. Never heard of it before.  Yet, it was insignificant; she had to keep silent and listen to their continuing conversation. 

Marinette breakdown later.

Chrysalis might be Lila. This is important. Should Lila be revealed as their new enemy, she will be held accountable for her deeds. To Paris to Alya and to her. Anger . Dark emotions are brewing inside her.

No, no, no emotion tonight; reel it in.

She has never been akumatized. It’s not for lack of trying, but rather her skill at compartmentalizing that helps her numb her pain.

Breathe. Dont say any word. You have what it takes to succeed. This bitch will pay. Just wait. 

Her train of thought was broken by their hushed whispers, which she could no longer hear as they departed. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.

She needs to escape take the Wayne heir's phone. Take care of Lila when she gets in touch with Alya. 

________________________________________________________________________

She creeps along the wall sideways, the empty corridor makes her feel like a thief; her ingrained caution slows her movements, silencing her steps. Looks right, then left, breath caught in her throat, slow, careful.

A sudden bang , a figure blocks her path. Strong arms slam into the wall beside her, eep

Green Eyes, sharp and menacing, lips curled into a smirk. She’s cornered. No escape. He plants his legs in front of hers, traps her with arms caging her shoulders, firm and unyielding, so close.

“Thief,” he sneers, his voice low and mocking.

“Bold of you to come here. Stealing my phone wasn’t enough? Or is there a bigger prize you’re after? Tch. Pathetic.”

Her eyes narrowed. The shock drained from her face — she wasn’t going to be intimidated by this smug villain. Not today.

Instincts sharpened her quick scan before she seized her opportunity. One swift movement, she aimed a sharp kick between his legs.

Thunk.

A jolt shot up her thigh. A sharp pain arose.

With a startled recoil, she almost hopped on one foot. “Merde!“ Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What the hell—?!”

He didn’t even flinch.

“You thought I’d come unprepared?” he drawled, clearly amused, tapping a knuckle against his shin with a metallic clink. “Protective gear constructed from carbon fiber.”

“Custom made.”

Oh no. Oh no.

Merde, Marinette thought, wincing as she tried to rub the pain from her leg without looking like she was limping. He wasn’t merely dramatic; he was completely unhinged.

With no way to escape, she headbutted him
but he dodged and leaned in closer, looking even more amused.

“Give me back my phone,” he said, voice low,
“or you won’t like what happens next.”

“No, Monsieur. I can’t,” she spat.

With an aching thrust of her thighs, she lunged forward, arms outstretched. Grunting, she wrapped her legs around his hips—
a bold, reckless attempt that made Damian hesitate.

That pause was all she needed. With wild momentum, Marinette spun, trying to knock him off balance.

But halfway up—his hand snapped to her waist, the other catching the back of her neck.

They tumbled.

The world spun—his navy-blue suit crumpling beneath her grip, her braid whipping past his cheek.
Then—thud!

A tangled heap on the cold floor was their landing, two rolls ending with him behind her, her arm pinned between them.
Marinette groaned.

Somehow, he ended up half on top of her, his knee between her thighs, hand still locked behind her neck.

They froze.

Their breaths were ragged, too close.

“You really are insane,” Damian muttered, his voice low, amused, one brow raised.

“You caught me halfway!” Marinette huffed.

“Be glad I did,” he smirk.

“Or you’d have a broken nose.”

The tension rises as Marinette feels the heat of the Wayne heir’s breath, the sweat beading at his pores magnified by their close proximity. Her instincts scream danger, but the sharp scent of expensive cologne makes her freeze. Her heart stutters—a beat skipped—then settles into a wild rhythm. And those green, captivating eyes… locked onto hers. They stare at each other for barely a minute, but no words come.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng! What on earth are you doing?”

Her Maman stormed in, yanked her daughter off the rich boy like pulling a cat off curtains.

Your job is to serve drinks, not to pursue billionaires!”

“Maman, it’s not what it looks like”

“Oh really? Because it looks like you’re sitting on a Wayne!”

She turned to Damian, still on the floor like nothing happened.

“And you! Who raised you?!”

He blinked. “Talia al Ghul and Bruce Wayne.”

Sabine frowned. “Well, tell them I said no more rolling on the floor with my daughter!”

She grabbed Marinette’s wrist.

“Back to the function room. You’re not getting paid to flirt with Gotham’s elite.”

“Maman, it was an accident”

“Carry the hors d’oeuvres instead.”

Damian remained seated on the cold floor, eyes blinking, as if their struggle hadn’t happened. Marinette squinted. He didn’t even look embarrassed just smug and a little too calm for someone who’d just been scolded by her mother.

His eyes followed them as Sabine dragged her away, that infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He remained unfazed. At the very least, he appeared amused. Of course he was. Typical rich boy. Probably never been told off in his life.

Her mother didn’t wait for explanations just grabbed her wrist and yanked. Pain shot up Marinette’s thigh as she stumbled after her, wincing. It still hadn’t recovered from that failed kick, and the fall hadn’t helped either. Heat flushed her neck as she struggled to keep up, limping from shame. Still… a part of her was grateful. Maman’s sudden appearance had saved her from whatever smug comeback Damian had locked and loaded. All she needed to do was quietly slip away and get that damn phone.