Chapter Text
Marinette tapped her spoon on the rim of the minestrone pot, setting it down and turning down the heat, swiveling toward the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing. She wiped her sweating hands on her apron.
"Amore mio, how was—" she saw what Adrien was wearing and whipped back around. "Take it off."
"Oh, but princess—" Adrien said, with a smile.
"I said, take it off," Marinette said firmly, returning her attention to the minestrone and stirring vigorously.
"Mari, you know I didn't mean to—"
"You know my rule. Show your wife some respect."
Adrien sighed and removed his suitcoat and hidden chest holster. He also removed his domino mask; his personal mark as a mafioso.
"Happy now, princess?" He said, coming up behind her and kissing her on the cheek. She wasn't appeased.
"Get them out of my sight." Hardly moving from her side, Adrien tossed the bundle into the hallway and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in, closing his eyes, and enjoying the smell of her cooking.
"You shouldn't throw guns around," Marinette grumbled. Adrien whipped her around to face him and kissed her deeply as though missing the taste of her lips.
"The safety was on," he said removing himself from her. "Soup smells fantastic as ever, princess!" He snatched his bundle from the floor and bounded up the hallway stairs.
Marinette sighed, switched the heat completely off, and lidded the pot. Grabbing a hot pad, she lifted the pot from the stove and moved toward the dining room table.
"Are we expecting any guests tonight?" she called up the stairs.
"Not likely!" Adrien hollered back from the second floor as he untied his green tie and removed the matching pocket square from his blazer, putting everything away. He stowed his .357 revolver in his nightstand; a compromise between spouses. He shucked his shoes and headed back downstairs where Marinette had laid a beautiful spread.
"It looks fantastic, Mari," Adrien said, pecking her on the cheek. Marinette smiled and dished some soup into his bowl. Just as they were about to take their first bites, a knock sounded at the front of the house. Adrien dropped his spoon and hastily made his way to the door. Marinette set her spoon down in silence, her hands in her lap, eyes narrowed and lips pursed.
"Ah, Nino! How good of you to stop by! Marinette has made some fantastic minestrone, you should join us. And where is Mme. Lahiffe?"
"I'm afraid she's at home. I'm calling on business..." Their tones turned muffled and serious, hidden in the entryway. Marinette sighed, taking a long sip of her Pinot Noir. After a few moments, they walked out into the space and Adrien turned to Marinette.
"I'm sorry amore mio, something urgent has come up and it needs to be dealt with. It will only be a few minutes." Adrien spoke apologetically.
"Can I not enjoy one uninterrupted evening with my husband, Nino?" she teased. Nino took off his hat, apologetically, having the decency to look sheepish.
"My apologies Mme. Agreste. If only your husband weren't so employed." He winked. "If you'll permit me to steal him away for a few minutes—"
"Take all the time you need," Marinette said with a smile. She swirled her glass of wine and watched them move to the office, where Adrien took his usual leaned perch atop the desk and Nino paced. They were far enough away that their voices were mere murmurs.
Marinette watched them for a while before turning back to her wine. Minutes passed. She stared into her soup, listless, contemplating the drifting oregano. Voices raised and she turned to the office door only to watch it swing shut. Lips pursed, she topped off her glass with a heavier hand than she permitted her spouse.
An hour later, Adrien emerged from the office, guiding Nino through the house and out the front door. Neither spoke. Bidding short farewells, Adrien shut the door and leaned against it, rubbing his palms against his eyelids. For a moment he pondered existence. The next, he stepped beyond the wall dividing the entrance from the dining room and stopped short.
His bowl sat, stone cold, on an empty table. Sounds he hadn't noticed previously echoed softly from the kitchen. Checking his watch and only then realizing how much time has passed, he grimaced and made his way to the kitchen where Marinette stood, washing the dishes.
He stepped forward, intent on righting his wrong.
"Don't." Her voice sounded in warning.
"Mari, I'm sorry—"
"I'm sure you are." She said simply.
"I am!"
"That's what I just said." She turned over her shoulder to look at him. He looked so distraught standing there. So nervous. It almost made her want to laugh. "When you accepted your place in cosa nostra I knew it would come with certain responsibilities. Which is why I'm not mad."
"But you are disappointed," Adrien smiled sadly.
"Well of course I am!" Marinette threw the dish sponge into the sink and pointed a wild, foam-covered finger at his chest. "My husband, disappearing for some-odd hours of the day, coming home with a mask on his face, blood on his fists, and secrets in his chest! Of course I'm ma—!" The surging anger dissipated as she realized her mistake. "Disappointed." Marinette returned to the sink. "I can't even enjoy one nice night with the man I married. He's disappeared."
"But I haven't, princess. I'm right here," Adrien said, stepping close and rubbing her shoulders. He watched her relax and close her eyes.
"We haven't had a sit-down meal in two weeks," she said quietly.
"I'll make it up to you Marinette, I promise." But they both knew he couldn't.
"We can't keep going like this. It isn't sustainable. Our five-year plan is in shambles thanks to them."
"You don't need to remind me," Adrien said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Actually I do, that's my whole job," Chloe hissed. "And it's rude of you to ignore me."
"He's not ignoring you, he's just—" Nino started.
"I'm ignoring you," Adrien stood just to feel something solid beneath his feet again. The library in which they were meeting was small. Towering oak bookshelves with brass ornamentation took up most of the space, full of books Adrien wished he had the time to read. A matching desk sat in the back of the room, haloed by a beautiful bay window overlooking the street of La Campagne à Paris. The carpet was green, the chairs were leather, and the wood was dark.
Most of cosa nostra was done here. Marinette didn't tolerate any mafia business in their home (at least where she could see) so most of it was conducted in the Lahiffe household in the upstairs quarters. If Alya minded, she didn't show it, choosing to stay away for the busiest hours of the day as mafiosos came and went. Chloe groaned.
"When you asked me to be your consigliere I didn't want to accept, but you convinced me I'd have a purpose here. I'm the only one who knows your system back to front and is legally in the clear. You just try replacing me."
"I'm not going to replace you, I just don't see the point of hammering in the fact that I'm failing as the Don. I have been for two years now," Adrien grumbled.
"You're not failing. It's just—" Nino hesitated and then dove right it. "Ever since your father gave up the organization, the Agreste Family name just doesn't hold the same power anymore."
"Especially since the Coccinelle Family has siphoned it from us," Adrien grumbled.
"You need to make a name for yourself. You can't keep living in the shadow of your father, especially where the public is concerned." Chloe prodded, sitting up in her leather armchair.
"Chloe, I've done everything you told me to. I picked up a nickname, Chat Noir, I adopted a look with the mask, I separated my personal life from cosa nostra life, I don't know what else I can do to separate myself from him." Adrien said, frustration written all over his face. He stopped short and sat down again in his chair.
"It's not about separation, it's about showing that your strength and power surpass your father's," Chloe explained, exasperated. "We want the Agreste name, it separates you from these newbies. You've got a legacy. We just need you to be perceived as dangerously if not more than, Gabriel."
"I don't think that will ever be possible," Adrien mumbled, leaning back, staring at the ceiling.
"I think you need to call a meeting of the heads," Chloe snipped. Adrien sat straight up, deciding whether or not she was serious. "Your father had to call a few back before he squashed the other Families. Now, since you are still the biggest name in all of Paris, you need to do the same. Scope out the other two Families. Have you even met them before?" Adrien shook his head.
"They're very secretive. It's nothing like I've ever seen before. They keep their personal identities a complete secret from their organizations and no one knows who they are in their day-to-day lives." Adrien shook his head again, as though trying to understand. "If I invited them to a meeting between the Heads I don't think they would agree to it."
"You need to try. Like I was saying, your father had to conduct many Don meetings in his time. You need to prove your name still means something not just to the public, but to these new Families. The sooner you earn their respect, the sooner we can come to agreements about turf," Chloe said firmly, digging her finger into her chair arm.
"We don't even know if they'll agree to it. Again, secrecy," Adrien reminded her.
"We could always offer the option to send one of their capos in their stead," Nino suggested. "They may not be able to agree to any terms, but that's a line of communication at least."
"But how do we invite them? We know a few members from both Families but going to their homes without an invitation is against our code," Adrien reminded them. He seemed determined for this plan to fail.
"Easy," Chloe said, sitting forward. "Your father established a code among smaller crime rings in the city, ones that weren't a threat to him but that he sometimes used. Anyone who is anyone to us knows it."
"Surely you don't mean—" Nino started, but Chloe interrupted.
"I do. There is a corkboard in Bianchi's, the deli on 57 Rue de Bretagne. You put a flyer there and using codes, direct your message to someone specific. Even if they don't see it personally, someone else will, and you know how word travels." Adrien sat back, considering. Chloe plowed on. "You'll need a symbol. Your father used a 'G' insignia. You could reuse this or come up with your own, but I can help you draft the message."
"No, I know the code, my father taught me very young. I'll just have you look over it," Adrien decided.
Before either of the other two could reply, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in!"
Alix stepped in, nodding to the other two in the room.
"Sorry to interrupt, boss, but we've just got word M. Glacier is in shop today."
"Thank you, Alix, this is excellent news." Alix left the room. Adrien stood, buttoning his suit coat. "I don't know about you two, but I'm looking forward to handling this personally."
"Don't worry Monsieur Glacier, I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding. I just need you to cooperate for me, can you do that?"
The sweaty-faced Andre Glacier, owner of Andre's Ice Cream Shoppe in central Paris, nervously nodded to Adrien's masked one.
"I received word from an informant several weeks ago, that you served two known members of the Coccinelle Family in your Shoppe, is that right?" Adrien was in his stride, cold, demanding, sugary sweet, and above all, powerful. When they had arrived, Andre had greeted them usually, until Adrien had guided him through the back of his own shop, sat him down and stood Kim, the muscle, behind his chair.
"I— I can't say for certain. We serve a lot of customers here," Andre smiled, nervously. Adrien reached into his jacket pocket subtly revealing his hidden chest holster. Andre's face turned white as he spotted it, almost missing Adrien slide a print photo in front of him. It showed two customers seated at a table just inside his store window. Two women, one with dark hair with purple streaks, and a blond dressed all in pink.
"These two are known as Juleka Couffaine and Rose Lavillant. Do they ring a bell now?" Adrien asked, stooping closer to Andre's face. A bead of sweat rolled down the man's forehead.
"Yes.. yes they do. I knew they were members, but I didn't think they were high up enough for you to care. Th—that's my mistake M. Agres— uh, Noir, uh—"
"Whichever scares you more," Adrien growled.
"Yes, of course— M. Noir," the man faltered. Adrien took silent note of that.
"Now, M. Glacier. I know you understand what happens if you go against our terms," Adrien's teeth gleamed in a disturbingly feline way. "It would be a shame if something were to happen to our shop if you didn't repay us for our offered... protection."
"I understand M. Noir," Andre nodded, vigorously. "I won't permit them in the future."
"Good, good," Adrien smiled. "If it happens again, you can be rest assured, the punishment will be more... severe."
"Of course, Monsieur," Andre nodded again. Adrien laughed a cold, derisive laugh. He jerked his head to Kim and they walked out of the shop, leaving Andre Glacier in his own backroom. Patrons murmured but avoided the piercing gaze of Adrien Agreste. It was the smart thing to do.
Adrien stalked through his front door in a bitter mood. He slammed the door behind him.
"Difficult day?" Marinette asked from the sitting room to the right. She didn't look up from her book. Adrien breathed a heavy sigh.
"You have no idea," he said, plopping beside her on the couch.
"Want to tell me about it?" She asked, finally setting down her book. She cooed as she pushed him forward and began rubbing his back.
"You want to hear about my day?" Adrien chuckled, shooting her a look.
"I'm going to have to come to terms with it at some point. I can tune you out if it's something I don't want to hear." She smiled softly at him, beginning to knead out a tenacious knot below his shoulder blade. Adrien closed his eyes.
"Well, the beginning was fine, nothing too serious there. It was the end of my day that's frustrating me." Adrien smoothed a hand over his hair. "One of our... patrons was beaten by one of our rival Families, Coccinelle. They got him real good too. He hurt someone they knew and..." he trailed off, wondering if this was something he should leave out.
"Go on," Marinette encouraged.
"The Don of the Coccinelle Family went at him with a pair of brass knuckles. He couldn't talk much. Part of his tongue was missing, he bit on it so hard. I'd be surprised if he comes away without any brain damage. They were vicious," Adrien grimaced. "Silver lining for us, though I wish it hadn't come to us in this way. Their Don goes by a nickname too; Ladybug."
"Seems like a silly name for a mafia boss," Marinette said, nonchalantly.
"That's what I thought too. But even better, the guy was able to give us a minor description of her." Adrien didn't catch the almost imperceptible pause of Marinette's hand on his back. "She wears a mask like mine, but red. Talk about a copycat, am I right?"
Marinette giggled.
"I'm sorry it was a stressful day," Marinette said, removing her hand from Adrien's back. She reached to pick up her book and winced. Adrien noticed.
"Are you okay? Is there something wrong with your shoulder?" He asked, concerned, reaching a hand to it. She deflected it with a smile.
"It's been bothering me all day. I must've slept on it oddly," she shrugged, and kissed him on the cheek, getting up. Adrien watched her, concerned. Marinette grinned with humor. "I'm alright, amore mio! Are you in the mood for leftover minestrone?"
Adrien stood, grinning.
"Do you even have to ask?" and he followed her into the kitchen, addicted to her tinkling laugh.
"You know..." Adrien smiled as he watched Marinette get ready for bed. "I can think of one way I can repay you for last night." He stood and wrapped in arms around his wife, pulling her tight to his chest. She laughed and lightly pushed him away.
"I'm not sure it would, amore mio. And in any case, my shoulder is still sore." Adrien pouted as she kissed his chin. Smiling, she turned away, unbuttoning the back of her slip and sliding it off. Adrien plopped back on their bed, viewing her leisurely from his perch.
"What about tomorrow night?" Adrien asked, continuing to watch the process of her undress. She began folding her worn clothes and opened her top dresser drawer.
"Tomorrow sounds wonderful," Marinette replied, tucking a hidden red mask between the folds of her dress.
Notes:
Hello it is i the author. this is my first MLB work, so I'd appreciate any comments and love you have to give me! Yall are the best fr fr
Chapter 2: Omertà
Notes:
Associate - A person who is connected to a Mafia family and performs criminal or business-related tasks for them, but is not an official, sworn member of the organization.
Fence - A criminal who knowingly buys stolen property in order to resell it, usually through illicit or disguised channels.
Earner - A Mafia member or associate who consistently generates significant income for the family through criminal enterprises or business operations.
Friend of Ours - A way for Mafia members to indicate that someone is a made man in the organization—used to distinguish between outsiders and insiders without explicitly mentioning the Mafia.
Posta - A secret, prearranged location used by Mafia members or associates to pass information, deliver goods, or leave coded messages without being seen together. Also known as a drop spot or dead drop.
Hit the Mattress - To go into hiding or prepare for war, especially during a violent conflict between Mafia families.
Beef - A personal or organizational conflict, grudge, or problem, especially one that involves disrespect, betrayal, or unpaid debts, and can lead to violent consequences.
Vendetta - A prolonged and bitter feud marked by a cycle of revenge, often between families, clans, or criminal organizations. It typically involves personal or familial honor, and ends only with death, forgiveness, or total submission.
On the list - A euphemism for being marked by the Mafia (or another criminal group) as a hit target—someone the family has agreed should be eliminated.
Medicine - A euphemism for illegal drugs or bootlegged alcohol sold or trafficked by criminal organizations.
Wet Cargo - Any illicit liquid substance being smuggled or trafficked, such as bootleg alcohol.
Fish - Diluted or fake drugs mixed with fillers or impurities to increase quantity but reduce potency.
Action - A criminal endeavor, operation, or hustle undertaken by the Mafia or affiliated groups to make money or gain power. This can include gambling, loan sharking, drug dealing, extortion, or other illicit activities.
Books - The accounting records, ledgers, or logs where bets, debts, payouts, and financial transactions related to illegal enterprises—especially gambling—are recorded.
Racket - An organized criminal enterprise or scheme, often involving extortion, protection money, loan sharking, illegal gambling, or smuggling, through which the Mafia or other groups earn illicit profits.
Take a Vacation - Temporarily disappearing from the public eye or usual activities to avoid arrest, retaliation, or police attention.
_________________________________________________________________
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The dark basement room was only illuminated by candles. Rose Lavillant was led through the front doors, escorted by Juleka Couffaine. Three tables outlined the room, seating around twenty people, with whom Rose was unfamiliar. She was, however, familiar with those at the head table. There sat three people. Their eyes watched carefully as Juleka guided Rose forward, inclining her head to those at the front.
The red-masked woman in the center stood and walked around the table to meet them.
"Mlle. Couffaine," Ladybug kissed both her cheeks. "Please introduce us to our Associate."
"Rose Lavillant has been an Associate of the family Coccinelle almost since its inception. She's proven her loyalty several times over as a Fence and an Earner for one of our most lucrative business ventures, and now, she desires to be a friend of ours."
Ladybug nodded, her bluebell eyes staring into Rose's. She gestured to Juleka, who backed away several feet behind the scene.
"Rose Lavillant. You have been called here today, recommended as one loyal enough to join our ranks. As a long-time associate, I am inclined to offer such an appointment. You should know that life in the Family is not an easy one. We ask much, but we also give much in return. Once you accept your position, you can never leave this life. Death eventually takes us all, one way or another. And death is the punishment for those who choose to betray their family. Is this the life you want, Mlle. Lavillant?"
To her credit, Rose didn't hesitate.
"Yes, Boss."
"Extend to me your trigger finger." Rose did as instructed, and Ladybug gestured for Rena Rouge and Wang Fu to come forward with the necessary items. Ladybug took a pin from M. Fu and pricked Rose's outstretched finger. Rose flinched but remained where she stood and took the card Ladybug handed her, smearing the red over the face of it. Ladybug then plucked a lighter from M. Fu's hand.
"In cosa nostra, we have commandments. These are universal and apply to all families within it. You must abide by them, embrace them, live them." Ladybug flicked open the lighter and lit the card's corner, handing the lighter back to M. Fu. "Do you swear, before those who came before you and those who walk beside you, to uphold the honor, discipline, and silence of Cosa Nostra?"
"I so swear." The flame wobbled, slowly consuming the blood and paper.
"Do you swear to never approach a friend of ours without proper introduction by a trusted third?"
"I so swear."
"Do you swear never to cast your eyes upon the spouses of our friends, nor speak of them with disrespect?"
"I so swear." Rose switched hands as the flame bit near her flesh.
"Do you swear never to be seen in the company of law enforcement, nor aid them in word or deed?"
"I so swear."
"Do you swear not to frequent public houses or clubs that invite attention or compromise?" Members seated at the surrounding tables shifted, but spoke no word.
"I so swear."
"Do you swear that you shall always be available to Cosa Nostra, no matter the hour, the place, or the personal sacrifice and that you shall honor all appointments without fail, as a matter of discipline and respect?" Her narrowed eyes flickered with the firelight.
"I so swear." Rose didn't waver.
"Do you swear to treat all members and spouses of our circle with the respect due to family?"
"I so swear."
"Do you swear to speak only the truth when questioned by one of our own?"
"I so swear." She switched hands again as the burning crept ever closer to her fingertips. Ladybug's gaze did not move.
"Do you swear never to take for yourself that which belongs to another member or to another family?"
"I so swear."
"And do you swear not to permit among us those unworthy by blood or behavior: no sons of traitors, no kin of police, no men without morals?"
"This I swear, with blood and silence, under pain of death and erasure, now and forever." Rose finished, dropping the remains of the burnt card to the floor beneath her. Ladybug moved forward and stepped on the ashes. She kissed both of her cheeks and took the final two items from Rena's hands and offered them to Rose.
Rose took the outstretched weapons, a pistol and dagger, secreting them on her person. Ladybug grabbed her hand and raised it upward, facing those gathered in the room.
"May I present to the family Coccinelle, Mlle. Rose Lavillant, our newest family member." Applause echoed in the room as those gathered stood to greet Rose and offer their congratulations.
"What is the meaning of this?" Marinette's eyes narrowed as she inspected the hastily written note in her hands. Mylene shifted as Alya's eyes pierced through her. Marinette was seated at a desk in the center of the large room as Alya sat on its edge, a menacing air about her. Wang Fu stood, just behind Marinette, silent but present.
The room was furnished nicely. It was surprisingly warm and inviting. A lush red carpet floored the room, and the furniture was a lighter-toned wood. Various plants sat around them, bonsais and shoots of bamboo in beautiful ceramic pieces. A light pink Chinese tea set rested on the desk, among papers, files, photos, and news clippings. It had the air of a room that had only recently been converted to a new purpose.
"One of our Associates, Jagged Stone, discovered it at the Posta on 57 Rue de Bretagne. He wrote down the info and passed it on to me. It displayed the Agreste family seal. It went up two days ago," Mylene explained.
"But what does it mean?" Alya asked, directing her question to Marinette, who paused and looked to M. Fu.
"It's a meeting of the Heads," he said quietly.
"Mylene, thank you for this information, you are dismissed," Marinette spoke. Mylene bowed and closed the heavy door behind her. Marinette returned her gaze to M. Fu.
"The family Agreste is speaking in code. The Old Table must be set once more. A meeting. Every voice must be heard. All seats must be claimed. Each family must send a representative, not necessarily the Head. The wind shifts in seven nights’ time. You know the house. Be there before the wine breathes. The meeting is in a week, the place is as usual, arrive early evening, before the meeting truly begins."
"None of us can go," Marinette responded. "It would compromise too much. Adrien would recognize me and Alya in an instant, and you are too important both as my consigliere and as the Capo di Capi. Adrien has met you before."
"I hardly think he'd remember, but you're right. I worry though... he may be disrespected if we send anyone else." M. Fu frowned. A silence permeated the room as they weighed their options. After a beat, Alya broke it.
"We don't have to tell him. It might be good if he thinks someone else may be in charge. We can send one of our capos to pretend to be someone higher up. Chat Noir will know they're not Ladybug, but he won't know anything beyond that." She said, looking to Marinette, who remained expressionless.
"But who can we trust with such a responsibility?" M. Fu asked, troubled.
"We send Luka," Marinette said with finality. Alya looked surprised, but M. Fu nodded slowly. "Let's call him in."
Marinette was asleep by the time Adrien came home that night. He pushed the door open as slowly and silently as he could, a sliver of light from the hallway hitting the bed. He pulled open his nightstand, setting his domino mask and revolver in its depths.
"..mm... Adrien?" Marinette rolled over sleepily.
"Shh, go back to sleep, Princess," Adrien smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek. He undressed quickly and switched off the light in the hallway, sliding into bed. Marinette turned to him, resting a hand on his cheek.
"How was your day?" She murmured in the darkness.
"Busy." He smiled, kissing her forehead.
"I didn't mean to fall asleep so early, I was reading my book... waiting for you," Marinette trailed off, yawning.
"How is it?" Adrien asked, putting a hand on her waist and pulling her closer.
"Quite good, though it hasn't gotten to the exciting part yet. It's coming, I can tell." She trailed her fingertips along Adrien's chest before resting her hand there. Adrien just smiled.
"I'm glad to hear it." There were a few moments of silence. Adrien thought she'd fallen back to sleep and began to follow suit before Marinette spoke again.
"Have you eaten?" She whispered, her thoughts further away as she fought her descending eyelids.
"Yes, amore mio, though it wasn't as good as your cooking." He kissed her again, seemingly unable to restrain himself. "Is your shoulder better?" He received no response, and he smiled softly, noticing Marinette's breath had slowed, having lost her battle against her sleepiness. "Buonanotte, Princess." His lips brushed her forehead one last time before he too, closed his eyes for the night.
Marinette awoke much later, as light filtered through the linen curtains, splaying upon the bed. Her lashes fluttered, and she became aware of Adrien's hand tightening on her waist. He looked down at her, adoration filling his expression.
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Adrien murmured, pulling her closer, planting a warm kiss on her lips. Marinette returned it with equal fervor as he shifted, his thumb caressing her cheek. She reached a hand up to the nape of his neck, gently scratching there. The sound he produced made her smile against his lips. Adrien began to flutter kisses against her jaw, moving down her neck, occasionally nipping her soft flesh. She squeaked.
"You're in a good mood this morning," she spoke breathlessly, Adrien's careful ministrations disarming her, much to his pleasure.
"What can I say? There's just something about waking up next to the love of my life that gets me riled up," he growled the last words, biting her earlobe gently as her breath caught in her throat.
"Busy day today?" Marinette asked, running her hands down Adrien's chest, looking into his green eyes. He smiled.
"Not at all."
Chat paced, nerves tingling as he waited in a secretive upper room of Gabriel Fashion, a business front for far more illicit purposes. Chloe sat in a chair in the corner of the room, eyeing Chat silently.
A long table sat in the center of the room, fourteen chairs arranged around it. Adrien remembered sitting in this very room as a young boy, watching and listening as his father and mother negotiated with various heads, years before Gabriel took possession of all Paris turf. It was here that he learned the mark of a powerful mafioso, learned what the job required. He realized from a young age that there was no way out. This was his future. This was what he had to do to make his father proud.
And Adrien was trying his best. He thought back to his lengthy discussions with his father, just two years ago, following the murder of Emilie, Adrien's mother, Gabriel's wife and underboss, about the future of the family Agreste. His father had been broken then. Much to Adrien's disappointment, Gabriel decided to play it safe, to hit the mattress and flee the country. Adrien hadn't spoken to him since, but that was all a part of the job. He wondered if his father kept up with the news, hoping against all odds that his father wasn't disappointed in him. He truly was trying, but try as he might, he felt the Agreste family's grip on Paris slipping.
Which is why I called this meeting in the first place, Chat sighed, gathering his wits. Chloe raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. They both looked up as Gorilla knocked on the door, opening it to reveal a well-dressed man, his dark hair dyed blue at the tips. He was taller than Chat, but he thanked Gorilla, who shut the door behind him and nodded at Chat, who stepped forward to shake his hand.
"M. Agreste, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," He spoke low and casually. Chat tried not to get in his head about it.
"Call me Chat Noir. And the pleasure's all mine, Monsieur...?"
"Luka Couffaine, I represent the Coccinelle family." He smiled lightly.
"Of course. Please, take a seat. Would you like a drink?"
"A drink would be much appreciated," Luka smiled. Chat Noir gestured for Chloe to pour them both drinks, as Chat took the head of the table, Luka sitting on one side. Chat had organized the seats carefully, moving the chairs back a bit so as to give himself more room, more presence. The conversation lulled as Chloe supplied them their whiskeys.
Another knock at the door sounded. Chat and Luka stood as Gorilla allowed another representative through the door, shutting it smartly. Chat was unable to hide his surprise as he gazed at the woman who hesitated near the door. He attempted to collect himself.
"Nathalie."
"Hello, Adrien. Or should I say Chat Noir?" The black-and-red-haired woman smiled softly. Adrien had not laid eyes on Nathalie Sancoeur since his father had fled. She had served as consigliere for the Agreste family, but had chosen to accompany Gabriel. Adrien had had no idea she'd returned, let alone that she was working for the family Papillon.
Chat shook his head slightly, still in a semblance of shock as he stepped around the table to shake her hand.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, though I must admit the circumstance is surprising to me." Chat guided her to the seat across from Luka, who was still standing. "I trust you've been well?" A heavy implication of what Adrien was really asking hung in the air. Nathalie accepted the drink he offered her and sat, as Luka did the same. Chloe slipped out to join Gorilla, and Chat Noir took his place at the head of the table.
"I have been very well, thank you," she nodded slowly.
"Good," Chat responded, refraining from asking more. "Well, that's enough introduction. Let's get to business." Two sets of eyes studied him carefully. Chat steeled himself, attempting to mask his true nerves. "It has been a long while since Paris has had multiple Families vying for its turf. I admire both the family Coccinelle and the family Papillon for their ingenuity, but the game has changed significantly since you both joined.
"The secretiveness with your respective bosses is concerning to me, primarily. I'm used to being able to speak with our friends openly, so long as there's no beef." Chat eyed both of them.
"We have no beef with the Agreste family," Luka spoke up. "Our boss just finds it... conducive to their mode of work to remain anonymous. They're more than willing to communicate, but they're identity is too important to be out in the open."
"You insult me," Chat raised an eyebrow. "I am a man of honor, secrets I'm let into are well-kept."
"I assure you, Ladybug trusts your loyalty to the code, but also trusts you can honor this simple request. They are more than willing to cooperate together, just not at this expense." Adrien was liking Luka less and less. There was just something about him that irked him, but before he could put his finger on it, Nathalie spoke up.
"As for the family Papillon, Boss understands any frustrations this may cause, but he has been involved in cosa nostra for a long time and has many long-standing enemies." Adrien was taken aback. "He has no beef with any Family, he has a vendetta."
This bit of information intrigued Chat Noir as he tossed it around in his mind. If this was an experienced mafioso with a true vendetta, there wasn't much Chat had to worry about. Whoever they were, they would have little interest in 'business ventures' if he were seeking revenge. As long as the family Agreste honored his mission, they had nothing to worry about. Which meant, as Chat had suspected, the family Coccinelle was a much bigger threat.
"May I ask about the nature of his vendetta?" Chat probed. Nathalie nodded slightly.
"He's searching for someone in particular who betrayed him. Once he discovers them, they'll be on the list." She was careful about her words, Chat noticed. She always had been.
"I wish him luck." Chat raised his glass a fraction. "I will admit your responses are a little... disappointing. Inform your bosses that if they ever so choose, I would be honored to take their secrets to the grave." He shot a look at Luka, measuring his reaction. He simply inclined his head, keeping his sight on Chat.
"And that brings me to what I truly wanted to discuss today. Fighting over turf has never been something that I enjoy; however, that seems to be all we're doing these days. Our main business, for the Agreste family, is in protection. We've functioned in this capacity for several decades; you could call it generational accumulation. I am unwilling to give that up." Nathalie spoke up, looking to Chat directly.
"The family Papillon has no interest in turf. We specialize in medicine."
"Medicine?" Chat repeated, warily. He was not familiar with the drug world; it was something his mother had always advised against, citing the difficulty in keeping the whole business under control and how easy it was to travel back to suppliers. It was a dangerous world, a kind of dangerous Chat Noir had no desire to be a part of.
"Yes, wet cargo and fish specifically." Chat mulled this over. Alcohol was fine; if people wanted to involve themselves with the mafia just to get their hands on better versions of what was already out there, there was no real harm in that. But narcotics were another conversation entirely.
"Well, we have no competing interest in that. As long as Papillon stays in their lane, we have no beef." Chat Noir inclined his head to Nathalie. "As for the family Coccinelle, I think we have a little more friction." Luka raised an eyebrow in response.
"We haven't taken any turf that wasn't already being neglected." Chat narrowed his eyes. "But, we've also become more invested in action: We've been hitting the books, and it's gradually becoming our priority."
Gambling. Chat had ventures in it, of course, you couldn't keep all your eggs in one basket, but it certainly hadn't been lucrative for him, not in Paris. Perhaps Ladybug's luck was better than his, but he had difficulty believing the racket would ever become a true priority for them.
"I'm glad to hear it," he said, simply. "Are there any familial concerns either of you would like to bring to light?" He shifted his gaze from one to the other. Neither spoke. "Good. Thank you both for coming today, send my respects to both Ladybug and Papillon. Gorilla will escort you out separately, so as to avoid arousing suspicion." Chat Noir gestured for Gorilla to enter and escort M. Couffaine out first.
For a moment, it was just Adrien and Nathalie. He watched her curiously, thoughts he had pushed back earlier resurfacing.
"I assume you're back in the country for one reason only," Chat said finally. "I'm surprised it hadn't gotten back to me." Nathalie just gazed at him, not speaking. She seemed to be searching his face for something. It unnerved Adrien, who broke eye contact. "I have to say I'm a little disappointed you didn't come to the family Agreste. I would've offered your place back immediately, I hope you know that."
"I appreciate your trust," Nathalie said smoothly. Chat nodded, pursing his lips, finished his drink, and stood to meet her as he heard the steps of Gorilla approach.
"Do you have a history with Papillon?" He asked. Nathalie hesitated for only a fraction of a second.
"Yes," she whispered finally. Chat didn't have a chance to respond, as Gorilla pushed open the door and held it for Nathalie to step through. As the door swung shut, Chat paused before sitting back down and reaching for the bottle of whiskey.
Gorilla guided Nathalie downstairs and through a darkened hallway before stopping at a nondescript back door. He said nothing as Nathalie slipped him a piece of paper. He pocketed it as she stepped out into the dying evening light. He remained in the hallway, searching around him before reading the note.
I have business with you again. You will receive all that you are due. Report as usual. Say goodbye.
He made no expression as he stepped into the bathroom at the end of the hallway, flicking open a lighter and depositing the ash in the wastebasket. He returned to the steps and climbed, knocking at the door at the top.
"Come in," Adrien said.
Gorilla stepped into the room and inclined his head to the seated Adrien Agreste, sipping a fresh whiskey. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Boss, you've been good to me. Your father before you was good to me, too. It's been an honor serving the family Agreste so long." Chat seemed to sense where this was going, but didn't interrupt. "As you know, before your father hit the mattresses, he offered to honorably release me of my service. When everything went south, I chose to stay." He swallowed as Chat Noir's eyes narrowed. "Now, while we lay in a period of peace, I'd like to take my vacation, if you'll permit me."
Chat made no move as he slowly finished off his second drink of the evening. He stood, facing Gorilla with an uncertain air. Gorilla did not back up as Chat Noir stepped forward, eyes trained on his.
"Gorilla," he spoke with a heavy voice. "You've served this family well. You've protected and upheld our honor. I've known you as a loyal soldier my whole life, and I will honor my father's offer to you. I'm sad to see you go, but you always have a place here should you choose to return." Adrien smiled.
Gorilla bowed, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Thank you," he said, and left the room. For a moment there, Adrien had very much resembled his father. Gorilla clenched his jaw, hitting the streets with a less-than-casual air, finally stopping just outside on the cusp of 12 Rue Gotlib. He did not have to wait long.
A nondescript black car stopped across the street, waiting. Gorilla did not hesitate as he walked over, pulled open the door, and climbed inside.
Adrien pushed into his own home, mask already removed and gun hidden on him. He switched his bottle of whiskey from one hand to the other as he hung up his suit jacket. He took a breath and stepped through the entryway, looking toward the living room where he knew his wife was sitting. He stood there. He saw Marinette's brow furrow as she sat, legs tucked under her, book in hand, eyes on him.
"Are you okay, amore? Is something on your mind?" Marinette asked as Adrien stepped forward and sat, reclining on the opposite side of the couch, deep in thought. He only shook his head, taking another sip of the open whiskey bottle. Marinette frowned, watching him. She got up slowly and joined him, resting her head and palm against his chest.
"Something's eating at you, my darling." She said, fiddling with one of his shirt buttons. Adrien's breath caught in his throat. Marinette looked up at him to see his eyes filling with tears. "Oh, sweetheart—" Marinette cradled his face and kissed his cheek.
"Sorry," he said breathlessly.
"Amore mio, there is nothing to be sorry for. Tell me what's on your mind," Marinette wiped a trickling tear from his cheek. It took a moment for him to gather up the words.
"—My father's dead." He choked out. Marinette froze, gazing at him as tears continued to course down his face.
"Oh, Adrien, how can you be sure?" She spoke with some desperation in her voice, if only to reassure her husband of a faint possibility.
"I saw Nathalie today." He breathed. "She wouldn't have returned for any other reason." His breath hitched one last time, and he wrapped his arm tightly around his wife, closing his eyes and breathing in her presence.
"Adrien... I am so, so sorry, my darling."
"I thought I would've gotten word. The previous head of Agreste, finally taken down, but I got nothing. I don't even know if it was natural or— or murder." He paused, closing his eyes, focusing on his breaths as he ran a hand up and down Marinette's arm. "I had hoped I might see him again. Someday, if he ever returned. Things haven't cooled off in cosa nostra, it's only been a short time... but I had hope for the future."
Marinette was nodding, running a thumb over the back of his neck, playing with his hair. It relaxed Adrien. She gently took the near-empty bottle from his hands and set it on the coffee table, moving closer to rest against his chest. Adrien wrapped his arms around her tightly.
"But I have you," he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "And I'm not letting you go anytime soon."
Marinette just pulled him closer.
Gorilla was alone in the back of the car as it navigated the light Paris traffic. The hairs on the back of his neck raised, the only proof of his nerves. He wasn't an idiot; there was every possibility he would be killed upon arrival at his destination, but he wasn't fool enough to ignore a call in from his Boss.
He felt the car slow gradually, reaching a kind of entry as the driver murmured to a man standing outside. The window rolled up, and they continued forward, slowing only a minute later. His driver nodded, and Gorilla stepped out, only to be greeted by a familiar face.
"This way," Nathalie spoke shortly, directing Gorilla up some side steps. He had a hard time containing his nerves, choosing to clench his hands into fists. The building was unfamiliar to him, but he knew to whom this house belonged. Nathalie walked briskly across the runner, pausing just outside a door at the end of the hallway.
"He's just in there," she nodded to him, and walked off, leaving him to his fate. Gorilla swallowed and opened the door, stepping quickly through.
It was dark, but nicely furnished. The rug beneath his feet made no noise, thick as it was. Two bookshelves framed a window directly behind everything. Heavy framed paintings hung from the walls, the dark wood matching the desk in the center of the room, at which sat a man. Gorilla bowed.
"Boss," he said shortly. The blue eyes of the man at the desk flickered with amusement, but that was the only hint of emotion in his otherwise schooled expression.
"Ah, Gorilla." Gabriel spoke with used familiarity. "It is so good to see you again."
Notes:
Sorry for just the reDONKulous amount of definitions in the beginning, lemme know if that's unnecessary or if you like it. Anyway, another update coming next Sunday! Love yall to pieces
Chapter 3: Menzogne
Notes:
Front - A legitimate-looking business or organization used to conceal illegal activity.
Floating Casino - A mobile gambling operation, often disguised or semi-secret, that changes locations regularly.
_____________________________________________________
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette was late. The light in the living room was on, meaning Adrien had indeed beaten her home. Her fingers fumbled at the doorknob as she ran through excuses in her mind. Taking a deep breath and attempting to calm her frazzled nerves, she pushed through, donning a mask of tranquility. She hung up her coat and purse, removing her day gloves from her fingers, and stepped out of the entryway into the floor of their home, coming face to face with her husband.
"Marinette, where have you been?" Concern laced his tone as he cocked an eyebrow. Marinette smiled warmly, doing her best to ignore the ache in her arms. She only then noticed that she was shaking from exhaustion and adrenaline. She had pushed herself too far.
"So sorry to keep you waiting, darling, I'll get started on dinner." She made to brush past him, but he caught her arm.
"Amore mio, you're shaking, what has happened?" He rubbed her upper arm soothingly and peered down at her. Before she could say anything, he froze, his brow furrowing. He reached toward her face and ran his thumb over her left cheek. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched his thumb come away, red with the remnants of two smeared dots of blood. Gears turned in Adrien's mind at a rapid pace. His expression darkened as Marinette's pulse quickened, genuine fear stabbing through her. Marinette had never seen this look before.
"A–Adrien, it's not–"
"Who tried to hurt you?" He growled, an unspoken threat in his tone. Marinette found she couldn't speak as Adrien glared down at her, a burning fury in his eyes that hurt to look at. She opened her mouth to respond, but she struggled to find her voice, blinking rapidly. Lies caught in her throat as her thoughts chased one another in her mind. She bit down on her lip as it trembled.
Her expression caused Adrien's to soften. He bent down and kissed her jaw softly. She gasped and shivered, her eyes fluttering closed. She felt him sink to one knee, peering up at her, hands held securely around her waist. "My darling wife," he whispered. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," She gasped, feeling his grip on her tighten. "I promise. I'm so sorry," she choked out. He didn't speak, waiting for her to continue. "I went to the department store to get a couple of my dresses altered and it took longer than I thought, so it was getting dark by the time I left, and on my way home..." she paused to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. "–he wasn't associated with a mafia, I'm sure of it, he was just a common thief, but he pulled me off the street and tried to rob me." Adrien pulled her close, burying his face in her stomach. She instinctively began running her fingers through his hair, and he pulled her ever tighter, placing a kiss just above her navel. She sighed into his loving touch. "B–but Alya had convinced me to start carrying around brass knuckles, which I know is a little drastic," she laughed shakily. "But they came in handy when he asked me for the contents of my purse."
She could feel a chuckle building up in Adrien as he moved his hands to grip her hips and pulled away to look up at her, an expression of mixed love, lust, and pride in his eyes.
"Amore mio, you are a blessing to me in every way." He stood then, sweeping her into his arms as he planted kiss after kiss along her collarbone, neck, and jaw. She shuddered in his grip, eyes fluttering from his ministrations. "And I am so proud of you for standing your ground. Just when I thought I couldn't possibly be more enamored by you." He outlined her face with his thumb, caressing her brow, cheekbones, and jaw. "But I am so sorry you had to go through that."
"Adrien," she finally smiled, a laugh bubbling up from her chest. "I am alright, my love! I am here and I am yours," she cooed, running her fingers over the back of his neck.
"You are mine," he growled, planting a kiss behind her ear. Despite it all, Adrien's gentle touch was soothing to Marinette's nerves. She felt the remnants of her adrenaline melt away under his gentle care.
"My darling, while I love all this attention–" She gasped as he nipped at her earlobe. "I'm afraid we won't be eating tonight unless you let go of me."
"You're not making us dinner tonight, sweetheart," Adrien murmured, refusing to pull away.
"Oh?" She jumped as he nipped her ear again.
"No. I'm taking you out tonight." He moved to her jaw, kissing and nibbling there. Marinette found that her mind was all but wiped clean as the sensation threatened to overwhelm her. "My beautiful, brave, sexy wife deserves to be spoiled tonight, I think. Don't you agree?" He asked as he finally pulled away, smiling at the effect he had left on her. She breathed deeply, gazing up at him as he held her close.
"I'm certainly not opposed," she smirked, batting her eyelashes up at him. She pushed to her tiptoes and planted a kiss to his cheek. He pretended to swoon as she laughed once more. "Give me twenty minutes to... freshen up." She winked at him as she ascended the stairs to do just that.
Marinette had lied, of course. She had been dealing with... a business issue that evening. She'd only stepped away from the monster when Alya reminded her of the time. They'd left him in Ivan's capable hands to be disposed of. And now she was sitting across from her husband in the underground restaurant, Le Maison Grassette, as he caressed her hand. If the jarring jump from event to event that night phased her, she didn't show it, returning Adrien's playful banter blow for blow.
Adrien favored Le Maison Grassette for many reasons, chief among them, its discretion. It was hidden away, accessible only by stairs descending from the slow street above. It wasn't a front, but the restaurant knew its common patrons. They asked no questions and turned a blind eye when business was conducted there. In return, its patrons were careful not to draw attention, avoid starting fights, and refrain from bringing trouble with them. It was also a high-quality establishment. When Adrien wanted to spoil his wife, he wanted to do it properly, and Le Maison Grassette was the place for that.
It was beautifully lit, candles and wall sconces illuminated the place warmly. The walls were constructed of red brick, adorned by the occasional black-and-white painting of the Parisian countryside or architecture. Light, swinging jazz music played from a radio in the corner, where another couple sat, chatting quietly.
"It's been a while since we've been able to enjoy ourselves like this." Marinette smiled, eyes flickering to her husband over the rim of her wine glass.
"It has," Adrien lifted his glass in return, leaning casually in his chair. "A shame, really, but it makes this a little more special." Marinette just hmmed in response, sipping her Pinot Noir, a favorite of hers. Adrien raised an eyebrow. "You disagree?"
"Special moments aren't special due to rarity," she said, setting down her glass. "It's more to do with variety, in my opinion." Adrien surveyed her with a measure of amusement in his gaze, but before he could respond, their waiter returned with their main course.
Homard bleu à la parisienne was a favorite of theirs, poached blue lobster, plated with fine herbs and a rich bisque. They did not hesitate to dig in. They didn't speak for a moment, enjoying the food before them, taking their time. A table of four men in the back broke out into raucous laughter before returning to their conversation, a little louder than before.
"I have to say," Adrien spoke up. "I'm curious about your brass knuckle technique. How much was Alya able to teach you? How did she learn?" Marinette laughed.
"Oh, you know Alya. I'm sure she persuaded Nino to teach her. As for my technique, I'm not sure I have much of one! My adrenaline was doing the real work." She smiled, taking another bite of her lobster.
"Well, I'd be willing to give you extra lessons," Adrien winked. "With how assiduous you are, I should've offered you a place in cosa nostra." Marinette laughed along with him, but a pit of cool indignation buried itself in her stomach. If only he knew how desperately she once wanted that. Before she could formulate a response, a purple-haired man approached their table, and he was very obviously drunk. He gestured toward Adrien with an empty whiskey glass, the ice clinking wildly within it. Marinette recognized him immediately, though he couldn't have known who she was.
Jagged Stone brandished his glass and a look of derision as he stared down at Adrien, whose expression had turned cold and caustic.
"You," Jagged started, standing wobbly before them. "You're a fool."
"Excuse me?" Adrien spoke, his voice low and dangerous. Marinette swallowed.
"You heard me..." Jagged grinned. "You're a fool if.. if you think–" He struggled to finish his thought. Marinette's mind was racing. Jagged Stone worked for her. He was an associate of the family Coccinelle. But of course, he didn't know who she was. Her identity remained a secret even to most of her soldiers. For an associate, he was very loyal, if her memory served her well, but he had a personal grudge against the family Agreste. She couldn't remember the details entirely, but she knew at one point he'd refused to pay for their protection, and his business had suffered the consequences.
Marinette watched in horror as Jagged, unable to finish constructing his thought, spat in Adrien's face. Adrien barely flinched as he took it, eyeing Jagged with a look that could only be described as dripping with ferocity. He wiped his face with his cloth napkin and tossed it next to his plate.
"Adrien, don't," Marinette murmured, reaching for his hand, but he ignored her, standing to face Jagged, who laughed, poking him in the chest.
"The Coccinelle family is going to take everything from you," he muttered, head lolling, gaze trained on Adrien's expression.
"Is that so?" Adrien growled, gritting his teeth. Jagged just grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Then you're the fool. If you think the family Coccinelle or Ladybug–" He spat out the name like a curse word. "has any staying power, you are truly mistaken."
"Adrien," Marinette spoke clearly this time, grabbing his arm. He pulled away, hand flexing.
"And I have news for you. Anyone who disrespects me in front of my wife–"
"Adrien. Sit down." Her tone was altogether different as Marinette stood, a hand gripping his arm. Adrien finally turned to look at her, his expression changing as he saw the look in her eyes. He sat, blinking as his wife pushed Jagged back a bit, her tone low. "Jagged, I need you to return to your seat and stop causing a scene." He laughed in her face.
"I don't take orders from the cocotte of Adrien Agreste. This is a fight between us," he slurred.
"You're wrong, Jagged." Marinette smiled, humorlessly. "If I must remind you of where your loyalties lie..." She brushed her hair behind her ear, revealing a red earring, dotted with black pinpricks. He froze, paling, as he put the pieces together, eyes darting between Marinette and her husband sitting only feet behind her. She leaned forward, whispering. "You work for me, Jagged. Now, apologize to my husband, and go back to your seat."
"I-I'm sorry for interrupting your evening, M-Monsieur Agreste. Madame Agreste." Jagged Stone bowed and walked unevenly away, sitting back in his chair from before, eyes resting resolutely on the glass in his hand. Adrien blinked in shock as Marinette returned to her seat, tucking her napkin back on her lap and reaching for her wine.
"...Marinette," Adrien spoke reverently, leaning across the table to her. She raised an eyebrow. "You never fail to impress." She smiled, ducking her head, pleased as she took another bite of lobster.
"Fantastic news," Rena Rouge announced as Marinette walked in, shedding her coat. She raised an eyebrow.
"What's so fantastic today?" She smiled pleasantly, plucking her day gloves from her fingers and taking her seat behind the desk, gazing at Alya intently.
"Lucky Charm has begun to take off," Rena said, grinning and passing several sheefs of paper across the table. They showed various points, numbers, and graphs. Ladybug raised an eyebrow as she shuffled through them, her tongue working against her teeth.
The Lucky Charm was a new venture for them. Taking a card from America's deck, they'd begun efforts in sports betting and other gambling rackets, including a floating casino. The Couffaine siblings had been the ones to jump at the opportunity. It'd started simple. About eight or nine months ago, Luka had hosted a low-stakes poker night in the backroom of a Coccinelle-controlled jazz bar. Juleka had overseen the security and atmosphere: Velvet, wine, and a little mystery did wonders for the word of mouth as their enterprise spread among mid-level earners and streetwise clients.
Three months in, and weekly games turned into biweekly sessions. A few connected guys from other families, as well as legitimate businessmen, became regulars. Based on a suggestion from one of these businessmen, Luka had begun running a small sportsbook on the side: Football, horse racing.
About two months ago, Ladybug had caught wind of their success and wanted to expand the operation. She had re-branded the illicit business: The Lucky Charm— elegant, femme, and exclusive. She asked them to run their first floating casino in an abandoned Art Deco hotel ballroom. They'd run games of Texas Hold ’Em, Blackjack, Sic Bo, and private roulette tables. As evidenced by the paper in Ladybug's hands, it had been a hit.
"€75,000 in one night?" Ladybug blinked in surprise.
"That's right," Rena smiled wider. "And they've got another event set up for next month. I talked to Luka for a bit, he said they want to offer high-stakes rooms for our wealthier clients. But take a look at the sports betting."
"€100,000 this month?" Ladybug's jaw dropped.
"Horse racing is in season, we got involved just in time." Marinette struggled to find the proper words.
"Well, I have to say I'm very pleased. We must meet with the Couffaines and talk strategy with them. Depending on how this next floating casino goes, we need to expand, and quickly."
"What're you thinking?" Rena asked, taking one of the papers again and inspecting the figures herself.
"We need to build out a network of sports bookies in boxing gyms, pool halls, and neighborhood bars, getting bigger that way. At least five solid bookie networks. And then maybe three floating casinos a week, and some private betting lounges? Like rotating backroom parlors or something like that, like their jazz bar." She said, thinking quickly. Calculations and digits raced through her mind as she nodded slowly. "I'll have to talk to them, but this has some serious potential." She paused. "Actually, Luka will be joining us soon, as well as Wang. We need to discuss the meeting of the heads."
"Agreed," Rena grinned, settling into the armchair off to the side. "I can't believe the family Agreste has never tried their hand at this."
"Oh, they have," Ladybug said, her eyes twinkling. "They just never found much luck with it." As Alya laughed, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Ladybug called.
The door opened to reveal Wang Fu and Luka Couffaine, right on time. Fu took his usual spot behind Ladybug while Luka gave a short bow, before standing in front of the trio. All three turned their attention to him.
"Luka." Ladybug smiled warmly. "I'd like to congratulate you and your sister on your wild success with The Lucky Charm."
"Thank you," Luka nodded, smiling.
"I have a few suggestions, but we can get to that at a later date. We wanted to ask you about what was discussed in the meeting of the heads."
"Yes, of course." He took a breath before jumping in. "Chat Noir had two main topics of interest: Firstly, the secrecy of our respective families, and secondly, fighting over turf and business ventures. He wanted us to be very clear when we reported back to our respective bosses, that if you ever so choose, he would be honored to take your secrets to the grave."
Ladybug bit back a soft smile, a twinge of regret loosening in her heart. Luka continued.
"In terms of business, I informed him that we are only offering protection to those areas that have been neglected in the past years, and that he had no need to fear about interference from us, that our focus is trained on books and gambling. I will say, I'm not sure he quite believed me. I did learn quite a bit about the family papillon. Namely, the reason we haven't run into them often is because they are not focused on business ventures. From what his representative said, Papillon has a vendetta. He's searching for someone specific who wronged him in the past. She described Papillon as a long-term mafioso who's laid low for a number of years in search for this unnamed individual. Although she said they've been dealing in medicine: Narcotics and bootleg alcohol."
Ladybug nodded pensively, shuffling this information away for later. She had no interest in narcotics, it was too dangerous a game. Something to stay away from, certainly. Luka pressed on.
"If I may speak boldly, I got the distinct impression that Chat Noir regards Papillon as more trustworthy than the family Coccinelle. He's more suspicious of us and our business ventures. He seems to see us as more of a threat to his family."
"That is rather... hurtful," Ladybug said, eyebrow raised. "Was there something in particular he said that gave you this idea?"
"Nothing substantial. He specifically said he had no beef with the family Papillon, and then immediately made the comment that we were stealing turf. It was more in his demeanor than anything else. I'm sorry I don't have much more than that." Luka finished, pursing his lips. Ladybug leaned back, rubbing her thumb along her nails. She glanced over at Fu.
"This isn't the news we hoped to hear, but thank you for your assistance, Luka. I trust you did what you could to advocate for our family, and we are grateful. Do either of you have questions for him?" Ladybug looked to Rena, whose eyes were narrowed and lips pursed.
"This vendetta of Papillon's is highly suspicious to me. We don't even know who this man is, and he's saying that he's got a grudge? He's searching for someone? Does he even know who he's searching for?" Alya's eyes stared at Luka, expecting a response. Luka cleared his throat.
"Regretfully, the only information that was supplied was that the family Papillon has no beef with any family, he's been involved in cosa nostra for a long time, and that he's seeking revenge on this undiscovered individual." Marinette cocked her head.
"Did his representative address him by a nickname of any kind?" Ladybug asked, but Luka just shook his head.
"She only referred to him as Boss or Papillon in general, nothing else." Ladybug nodded, closing her eyes.
"Alright. Well, thank you very much, Luka. We'll be in touch over Lucky Charm in due time. You are dismissed." Luka bowed and left the room, closing the door with a short click behind him. It was a moment before anyone spoke.
"Papillon is after me," Wang Fu spoke up. Two sets of eyes snapped to his.
"How do you know?" Ladybug asked, sitting forward, attention rapt. Wang swallowed.
"I made many enemies of the course of my time as Capo di Capi. Ever since the council was disbanded under the regime of Gabriel Agreste, I've run into enemies from time to time who disagreed with verdicts of the past. I've been in hiding for several years; it would make sense that this mysterious Papillon may be searching for me."
"Wait," Ladybug said, slowly, eyes narrowing. "Is that why you came to me? Because everyone else has a reason to distrust you? Because no other family would offer you protection? Am I putting my neck, reputation, and marriage on the line for a coward?" She stood to face Fu, anger in her tone and expression. She felt Rena come up beside her, her presence a support. Wang Fu held up a hand, remaining calm.
"Ladybug, I would never ask such a thing of you. I came to you because the news of Papillon's dealings were disturbing to me, and like I explained then, very few trust the old regime Gabriel Agreste toppled during his time, least of all Chat Noir." He smiled at her reassuringly. "It is impossible to be Capo di Capi and not make enemies. Mafiosos came to me with their wants and woes, and I had to determine if they were just desires and approve their methods of dealing with them. Of course, people disagreed with my decisions from time to time. What I did to Papillon, I cannot be sure, but I suspect I am the one he is searching for." Ladybug nodded.
"I'm sorry for doubting you." She motioned for everyone to take their seats again. "If anything, this gives us more reason to get to the bottom of this Papillon; finding his identity. We know one person who works for him–"
"We do?" Rena asked, interrupting her.
"Yes, Mlle. Nathalie Sancoeur was the representative of the family Papillon," Ladybug said, writing the name down.
"Luka didn't mention that," Rena said, eyebrow raised. This made Ladybug pause.
"...he mentioned it earlier. To me," she responded.
"Are you sure?" Alya questioned, trying to catch her eyes. "Or is this something you heard from Adrien?"
"I'm not spying on–"
"But did you hear it from him?" Alya pointed an accusing finger at her. Marinette pursed her lips angrily.
"So what if I did?" She burst out, defensively.
"Marinette..." Rena grabbed her hand. "You promised." She met her eyes. The fire in Ladybug's eyes dimmed as she took a deep breath.
"I know. It was just this once. I would've asked Luka anyway, but it slipped my mind. It won't happen again." Alya squeezed her hand before letting go. Marinette blinked a few times before pressing on. "As we continue to discover those working for him, we may be able to put together who's leading this whole organization. But we need to remain vigilant."
There were very few things Adrien Agreste wouldn't do in defense of his wife. And when a repugnant drunkard such as Jagged Stone, not only a scumbag but also an associate of that wretched family Coccinelle, called his wife a cocotte, there were a great many things he desperately wanted to do.
And so he let his mind run wild.
The evening following the incident, they performed a house call. He knelt on the hardwood, pleading, much more sober and far more apologetic. A little too apologetic for Chat Noir's taste. Jagged Stone lacked a spine, and Chat decided to show him what that really meant. They pinned him down and worked him over: A crowbar to the lower back, knees driven into his spine, a final stomp that cracked something deep. By the time they left him alone, he couldn’t feel his legs. He wouldn’t again.
When Adrien returned home that night, he kissed Marinette with a fervor that made her gasp and melt in his arms. She was too special for anything else.
"I've got some news," Chloe announced, walking in and flopping unceremoniously in her usual seat, peering over her sunglasses at Chat Noir, who sat, legs kicked up on his desk. Nino raised an eyebrow, having been cut off mid-sentence. He straightened from his lean on the desk.
"What news?" Nino asked when Chat didn't.
"We've got a few soldiers tracking Ladybug's movements."
"They've figured out her identity?" Chat Noir sat forward suddenly, incredulously.
"No, they have no clue who she is, but they know where she conducts most of her business," Chloe replied. Chat waved his hand dismissively.
"I'm not asking them to track her down, I don't want to violate her trust. Tell them to drop it, I don't need a potential accusation of betrayal hanging over my head."
"Understood. Nino, you should inform the capos then." Chloe said. Nino nodded.
"To which crew do these soldiers belong?"
"Max Kanté's," she replied.
"I'll let him know," he said.
"I also have... one other thing," Chloe hesitated. Chat raised an eyebrow.
"Yes? What is it?" He asked, knitting his fingers together.
"We've received a note," Chloe said, reaching into her purse and holding it out to Nino. He took it and unfolded it. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Let me see it," Chat held out his hand as Nino handed it over. Chat blinked, registering what lay in his hands. "This is from Papillon." He said.
"I believe so," Chloe nodded grimly. Adrien began to read aloud.
"A man tends his garden with care, waters the roots, prunes the dead branches. But what grows there is not always his own. I hear whispers that ladybugs have landed in soil that’s long been yours. And not just to admire the view. I offer no judgment. Only the wind’s report. But when roots are disturbed, the whole orchard begins to tremble." Chat Noir looked up. "This is a warning."
"It is," Chloe nodded. "But I'm not sure we should trust it."
"What do you mean?" Chat asked, furrowing his brow at her. She took a breath.
"What Papillon is warning us about, isn't happening."
"That's not true, Coccinelle has been stealing turf from us since the beginning," Chat replied, indignantly.
"No they haven't!" Chloe spoke heatedly. "The only turf they've got is a result of our neglect. Businesses we hadn't collected from in well over half a year, protection we hadn't offered in ages. Coccinelle has been chasing our loose ends since they formed. We didn't do anything about it then, and we haven't now."
"That doesn't mean it's not ours!" Chat yelled, getting to his feet. Chloe stood as well, striding up to his desk to press a finger to his chest.
"That's exactly what it means," she hissed. "We weren't taking care of our people, and so she did." Chat narrowed his eyes, glaring at her with vehemence. Nino came up beside them and tugged Adrien back a bit. He continued to glare as Chloe rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "And I don't trust Papillon."
"What are you talking about?" Chat Noir roared, slamming his hands against the desk. Chloe didn't jump, she just stared at him with a faint look of disgust.
"Don't you think all of the answers that Nathalie woman gave us were just a little too convenient?" She asked.
"I don't understand you," Chat grit out.
"Deliberately staying out of your business with a secret vendetta? Being involved in the one thing neither us nor Coccinelle will ever be interested in, narcotics and alcohol? Claiming to be an experienced mafioso?" She spoke slowly, with the air of explaining the obvious. "Why on earth should we trust anything this guy has to say?"
"Chloe, if you're not going to take warnings like this seriously, I don't even know what you're here to do," Chat muttered, put out. Chloe grit her teeth, breaking eye contact.
"If you're not going to listen to me, I don't know what I'm here to do either," she replied and stared at the ground, hoping for some protestation from her long-time friend. When none came, she breathed deeply and shot one last look at Adrien, who didn't return it. Nino just gazed at her apologetically. She scoffed before slipping quietly out the door.
"Adrien–" Nino started.
"I don't want to hear it," Adrien raised a hand, cutting him off. Nino fell silent, staring at the note on the desk, the clear mark of a purple butterfly looking back up at him.
Chloe tried not to cry as she made her way out of Nino's home, passing several mafiosos on her way out. She spoke to none of them. She exited through the back door, made her way to a busier street, and hailed a cab.
"Rue Catulle Mendes, 17th arrondissement," Chloe told the driver. She sat silently, watching through the window as the scenery passed by. She seemed quite alone in her mind. She breathed deeply before pulling a second note from her pocket, a twin to the one that lay on Chat Noir's desk kilometers away. She gently unfolded it, her eyes roving over the words she had read before.
To the Lady in Gold,
Some shine because they were polished. Others because they were forged in fire.
From where I sit, your brilliance cuts through a family that’s gone dim with routine. The cat may still play the part, but I wonder how long his shadow stretches before it forgets the hand that feeds it.
If ever you find yourself tired of chasing mice in someone else’s maze, of offering wisdom to ears too proud to listen, know there are places where gold is worn with reverence, not restraint.
Notes:
Ay yo i guess this is where I put a quirky little a/n bc I'm slick like that. Anyway, pls comment, I wanna know what yall think and comments are my love language
I appreciate productive feedback <3
Chapter 4: Tana del Leone
Notes:
Haven't edited this one nearly as rigorously as usual, lemme know if there's anything glaringly obvious <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Monsieur Noir,
There’s a saying in our line: when luck shows up too often, someone’s cheating the deck.
The Lady spins her charms well; bright enough to dazzle, soft enough to distract. But even a gambler knows when the table’s been turned.
Coccinelle is blooming fast. Too fast. And gardens that bloom overnight often hide roots growing from something foul.
Perhaps it’s nothing. Perhaps not. But I thought a creature with claws would rather see the trap before it snaps shut.
Cordially,
Papillon
Chat Noir adjusted his silver cuff links as he stared down the bustling warehouse in front of them, Nino and Chloe on either side of him. He was dressed to the nines in a full tux with hints of lime green in his bow tie and pocket square. Nino had on his finest suit, a three-piece forest green set, a new pair of glasses hanging off his nose. Chloe, as always, looked formidable in a light yellow silk halter dress, a deep V stretching to the center of her chest, the hem trailing in a beautiful ruffle. The bustle behind the doors was the only indicator of the true nature of this place, usually so quiet and empty. Chat narrowed his eyes before stepping forward and pushing through the double doors.
He had to admit, it was impressive how well they had transformed the space. Swathes of red and black fabrics hung from the ceiling, covering the pipes and softening the usually harsh lighting. Rich furniture covered the space where red-clothed tables sat, offering several different kinds of games. Chat recognized many of the people here. Several businessmen he worked closely with, members from the family Coccinelle, as well as his own. But there were many people here that Chat could not place.
It was a social gathering. A raucous poker game was going on in one corner as drinks were served from a portable bar on the wall. Laughter rang out as players bantered with one another, throwing down chip after chip, superfluously, as though they had nothing to lose. He spotted a familiar face, Luka Couffaine, walking around, greeting players and socializing before he passed through a door on the back wall, guarded by Ivan Bruel, the muscle of the family Coccinelle.
Upon entering, a woman walked up to them, a soft smile on her face. She wore a purple velvet dress, the bodice cut in a loose grecian style before nipping in at the waist. A gather at the front stretched the fabric tight over her hips before spilling down to kiss the floor. She bowed her head incrementally at them before speaking.
"Monsieur Noir, I am Juleka Couffaine, one of the owners. It is a pleasure to have your presence here tonight. As you are a valued friend of the family Coccinelle, I would like to personally offer you a private room in the back, drinks on the house. Our higher-stakes games are held there, and I think you may enjoy the atmosphere, as it is a little more intimate." She smiled, gesturing toward the back of the warehouse, to the door Luka had just disappeared through, ostensibly leading to these secondary rooms.
"I will take you up on that offer, but I see a few friends of mine I'd like to say hello to," Chat smiled shortly.
"Of course, monsieur. We'll prepare a room for you immediately. What drinks can we get started for you?" she clasped her hands.
"A Negroni," Chat replied.
"A Manhattan, please," Nino smiled politely. Chloe tilted her head, considering.
"Do you have a house special?" She asked. Juleka smiled warmly.
"We do indeed. Called The Lucky Charm, it consists of sparkling rosé, black cherry liqueur, a dash of absinthe and edible gold dust, served in a coupe glass."
"Sounds fantastic. I will have that, thank you," Chloe nodded her head with a faint smile. Juleka bowed again before retreating to the bar to inform the bartender there, before approaching the door with the guard to prepare their room.
The trio stood, unmoving for a moment as Chat surveyed the room. He didn't quite know what he was looking for, but he couldn't get over the sneaking suspicion he had that something about this whole operation was very, very wrong. He exhaled before stepping forward to speak to a few associates among those playing.
"Monsieur Bourgeois, so good to see you this evening," Chat smiled down at the man, who was smoking a cigar at the poker table.
"Ah, Chat Noir," he smiled. "I did not expect to see you here! But a pleasure as always."
"How's your luck this evening?" Chat asked, eyes jumping to the game before them.
"You tell me," Andre responded, tilting his hand up to show Chat his cards. Full house. Chat raised an eyebrow. "I see, well, best of luck to you all." He smiled, winking at Andre before patting his shoulder and walking off. Chloe nodded to her father, who smiled and tilted his head back, raising his glass slightly in silent recognition. Chat moved to greet an old friend of his father's, Tomoe Tsurgi, who sat with her daughter Kagami at the Sic Bo table, sipping an Old Fashioned.
"Madame Tsurgi, it is a pleasure to see you after so long," Chat smiled. "Kagami." He bowed.
"Ah, Monsieur Agreste, it has been too long. I hear very good things from Kagami concerning your operations." She nodded, turning toward the sound of his voice. "Nothing too confidential, of course. But allow me to say, your father would be proud."
"Thank you, Madame Tsurgi, your compliments are much appreciated. Kagami is one of my finest," Chat clasped her hand, bending down to brush his lips over her knuckles. Kagami inclined her head respectfully. "I couldn't walk by without saying hello after so long, but I will let you return to your game." He stood up straight as he spotted Juleka standing outside the door to the other rooms. "Kagami, if you would like to join us in our private room at any point, you are more than welcome."
"Thank you for the offer," she said, inclining her head in response.
Nino and Chloe fell into step beside him as they approached Juleka, who smiled at them as Ivan held the door open for them to pass through.
Marinette was enjoying a rare night out with her closest friends. Granted, it was technically on business, but it was recreational, so she was enjoying herself entirely. Adrien had informed her he would be out that evening, so it was the perfect chance for her to brush up on her poker skills.
Luka and Juleka had given her a full tour of their operations, and to say she was impressed was an understatement. They had transformed the warehouse beautifully, and so quickly, too. It could be torn down in a matter of hours, which was essential if they got a tip that they'd been compromised. The warehouse had numerous empty offices and conference rooms that they had transformed into high-stakes rooms for their more exclusive guests, who preferred discretion. And the bar was a special touch.
Marinette had sat down in one of these private rooms to play with some of her closest friends in the business. Alya, Rose, and Mylene. Luka joined them after a while, just for a few rounds, trusting Juleka to run things in his short absence.
She was fully enjoying herself, dressed in the most beautiful dress she owned. A light pink silk number, it had a wide V that showed off her collarbones, and it was cut in such a way that it clung to her hips before dripping off in a pool of fabric. It dipped low on her back, with a long bow falling behind her. A Martini in hand, she peeked at her cards again, though she didn't need to. She knew exactly what she had: A straight flush.
"Ladybug, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're cheating," Mylene teased, gesturing at her large pile of chips. Ladybug just wiggled her eyebrows.
"You might say I have a Lucky Charm on my side, hm?" Marinette grinned with an almost canine glimmer. "Call." She added two black chips to the pile in front of her.
"I think you're bluffing," Rena said, narrowing her eyes. Ladybug laughed in response.
"You think you can read me that well?"
"Yes, I do," Rena tilted her head up, challenging her.
"Then put your money where your mouth is, darling," Ladybug simpered, an amused glint in her eye.
"Call," Rena smirked back.
"I can't take this tension. Fold," Luka sighed, throwing his cards down.
"Neither can I," Rose said.
"Ugh, fold." Mylene agreed.
"It's just you and me, sweetheart," Ladybug murmured to Rena, who just smiled widely, throwing down her cards for the table to see. Four of a kind.
"Impressive," Ladybug smiled, nodding her head in acknowledgement. "But not good enou–"
The door behind them swung open.
"Marinette?" A familiar voice cut through her from behind. Her blood turned to ice as she saw the frozen expressions on her friends' faces. She fumbled with her mask, removing it and tucking it into her clutch with a well-practiced rapidity, Alya quickly doing the same behind her.
"Adrien," she smiled, turning in her chair. The downside of these rooms previously being offices was the fact that they had glass in their faces, allowing glimpses into the rooms behind them. Of course, Adrien had recognized the back of her head.
Her husband stood there in the doorframe, Nino and Chloe flanking his sides. Marinette glanced at Juleka, standing behind them, a look of frozen horror on her face. They would have to talk later, Marinette sighed internally. Adrien's face was quickly transforming from shock to fury as he glanced around at her company. Nino's mouth was slightly ajar, staring at his wife, who carefully tucked her hair behind an ear and smiled up at him coyishly.
"What on earth are you doing here?" Adrien asked, shock barely overcoming his anger.
"I'm playing Poker," Marinette smiled, a sickly sweet thing, but she had to play to his every weakness to convince him.
"I– can see that," he stammered. "Why are you playing poker here?" Marinette simpered.
"Ladybug invited me," she explained, laying down her cards and giving him her full attention. "It's quite the operation, don't you think?"
"Ladybug invited you?" Adrien asked furiously, stepping further into the room, inspecting every inch.
"Well, yes. Is that a problem?" Marinette asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Of course it's a problem," Adrien hissed, running his fingers through his hair. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You were busy tonight, and I thought it was harmless," Marinette said, concern and confusion lacing her tone. "I wouldn't want to refuse a mafia boss."
"No, no. Of course not," Adrien said, anger in his eyes as he caught Luka's gaze. "But why are you playing with this group?" His voice grew low, as though he didn't want the rest of the room to hear.
"They asked me to join them," she said simply. "Darling, I don't see what the problem is. They're involved in the business, in cosa nostra too. They're honorable people. Plus, I have Alya to protect me," she joked, grasping Alya's hand in both of hers.
"Marinette," Adrien said firmly, gently grabbing her by the arm. "I don't want you playing with these people."
"But darling. I'm winning." She gestured to her mound of chips and flipped over her final cards, showing a 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9— all clubs. Alya swore as Marinette took her rightful chips as the other players shook their heads in shock and amusement.
"I can see that," Adrien said, blinking in surprise. "Princess, I don't want to have this conversation here." He murmured, dipping down to her ear. She frowned.
"Adrien, I don't see what the issue is–" He interrupted her.
"Come with me outside for a moment, please." She swallowed, staring up at him, about to protest. He shut her down with his steady gaze. "This, unfortunately, is not a request," he whispered. She nodded and followed him out of the room. Nino held out his hand to Alya, who made no protest, following Marinette. Nino nodded to the remaining players before shutting the door carefully behind them.
Juleka spoke up quickly.
"If you'd like to convene in the room we have prepared–" Adrien raised a hand, not bothering to look at her.
"That won't be necessary. Mme. Agreste and Mme. Lahiffe will be leaving." Marinette's eyes widened furiously.
"Adrien, you do not speak for me." She said, poking him in the chest. He stared down at her, jaw clenched, his lips pursed in concern.
"Marinette, in these kinds of situations, I very much do." His voice was tinged with warning.
"Well, you don't speak for me," Alya said, crossing her arms.
"Alya," Nino said, his tone firm. "You need to go home."
"I don't understand what the problem is!" Marinette said, indignantly. "These are practically your coworkers, don't you trust them?"
"No, I don't," Adrien said, running a hand along her arm.
"What are you talking about?" Marinette said, brow furrowed.
"I don't trust the family Coccinelle," Adrien spat out bitterly. His tone caught Marinette by surprise. "They're up to something. And the fact that Ladybug is using you against me is not reassuring in the slightest."
"Using me against you?" Marinette was indignant now, coming close to Adrien's chest, her finger pointed in his face. "It was a simple invitation. I am your wife, of course she would invite me. I'm a part of this, too."
"No, you're not!" Adrien burst out, grabbing Marinette's hand and leaning over her. She blinked in a moment of genuine surprise. "You are not, and she should know that."
"Hey! Don't raise your voice at her," Alya equalled his tone. Adrien breathed deeply, closing his eyes.
"Nino, control your wife," he said calmly.
"Adrien, your orders don't extend to my marriage," Nino responded carefully. He gripped Alya's hand in warning, who was looking quite ready to punch something. Marinette had stilled. The look in Adrien's eyes was scaring her now.
"I'll go home. If that's what you want," Marinette murmured, blinking rapidly and looking down.
"Mari, please–" Adrien said, softer now, reaching for her cheek. Marinette took a step back, avoiding his touch.
"No, no, it's fine. I didn't know... I didn't know." She finished lamely, shaking her head. Her voice became a little choked up. "We'll be going now. Come, Alya." She didn't spare a glance toward Adrien, walking up to Juleka. "Is there another exit we might use?" She murmured. Juleka nodded quickly, showing them the way out through a back door. Alya shot one last cold look at Adrien before following her friend. The door swung shut behind them.
Adrien stared for a moment before burying his face in his hands. Nino put a comforting hand on his shoulder before leading him to the private room that had been prepared for them.
"Once you've decided what you'd like to play tonight, just let Ivan know and we'll get you a dealer," Juleka said, rapidly shutting the door behind her.
Adrien sat heavily in a chair, reaching for the prepared cocktail before him. Chloe sat, leaning back in her chair and gripping her drink as well. She sniffed disapprovingly.
"Don't start," Adrien warned.
"I didn't say anything," Chloe responded, expression flat.
"But you were going to," Adrien gritted his teeth.
"Don't start accusing me, now," she raised an eyebrow, downing a good third of her gold-flecked drink.
"Let's just calm down for a second," Nino said tiredly. They sat in silence, the tension palpable as each occasionally sipped their drinks.
Adrien was consumed in his thoughts. If Ladybug thought she could toy with him by using his wife, they were getting into some very dangerous territory. Leverage was not something he had on his side at the moment, and she was taunting him, flaunting his one weakness right in front of him. He couldn't stand it. He gripped his Negroni tightly.
He needed leverage, too. And there was only one thing he could think to find. He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.
"Texas Hold 'Em?" he asked, standing up. Nino's brow raised in confusion, and Chloe just snorted into her drink. Not waiting for a response, Adrien left to speak with Ivan about getting a dealer. He returned, spirits not quite lifted, but his pulse had returned to a much more manageable level as he contemplated his gradually forming plan.
When he returned home that night, Marinette was waiting for him. She sat at the foot of their bed, arms wrapped around her, dressed in her nightgown. Adrien stood in the doorframe for a moment, a shadowed silhouette. He could see her puffy eyes and faint exhaustion. He crossed to her and knelt before her, wrapping his arms around her waist and laying his head in her lap.
He heard her breath hitch, but her fingers ran instinctively through his hair for a moment before lifting his face to hers by his chin. They looked at each other, blue and green eyes locked in silent conversation.
"Adrien," she said softly. Adrien's heart clenched as he heard choked emotion in his wife's throat. "I would like an explanation, please. That is not a request."
He closed his eyes briefly, before standing and shucking his shoes and removing his suitcoat and tie. He sat back against the headboard and gestured for Marinette to join him. She crawled over to him and tucked into him, resting her head and hand on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and began caressing her arm, slowly. It took him a moment to speak.
"I am so sorry I ruined your night." He started slowly. "I am so sorry I spoke to you like that in front of our friends. I am so sorry I didn't explain myself and that I didn't hear you out. I was just scared when I saw you." His breath caught in his throat as emotion threatened to take over. Marinette began running her thumb over his stomach. He inhaled before pushing forward. "I didn't expect to see you there, much less with a group of people I don't trust."
"That's the part I don't understand," Marinette murmured. "What don't you trust about them? I thought all mafiosos take an oath of sorts."
"They do," Adrien smiled softly, kissing the top of her head. "You're right, they do. They should be honorable people. That's how this business works." He swallowed before continuing. "But the family Coccinelle has been behaving... unusually. I'm trying to figure it out. And until I do, I can't trust them.
"The fact that Ladybug invited you herself makes me a little suspicious. It felt like she was reminding me of my weaknesses. Not that you are a weakness. You are strong, and capable, and the best thing in my life. But if she wanted to hurt me, it would be easiest to go through you. You understand?"
"I think so," Marinette said, her voice muffled. Adrien smiled and shifted his hand to her waist.
"I'm so sorry for everything. I know you feel cooped up here. And even though you don't want to hear about cosa nostra, I know you still worry. I'm sorry things can't be simpler," Adrien bit his lip to keep himself from tearing up. "I want you to have fun, and enjoy evenings with friends and strangers, and not stay up all night worrying about what kind of danger I'm getting myself into.
"It was a marvel to see you tonight. In that dress. Holding your own in that room. Crushing poker like you've been playing your whole life..." Marinette laughed thickly into his shirt. He didn't comment on the dots of wetness spreading across it. "You were glowing," he said wistfully.
"I'm going to be better," he said with finality. "You are the most amazing thing in my life, and I know this hasn't been easy for you. I'm going to make it up to you. You'll wear that dress again, you'll sip fancy cocktails, and you'll crush all our friends in poker like the card shark that you are. And I'll be right next to you, infatuated and supportive." It was a promise. Marinette deserved all that and more.
Her grip tightened on his shirt.
"Okay," she said softly. Adrien's heart clenched. He'd never intended to hurt her; he had just felt so protective in the moment. Like he'd found her at the mouth of a lion's den, and she didn't even know it. And he'd accidentally put her there.
"I love you, Princess." He closed his eyes tightly as his eyes grew wet.
"I love you, too, minou."
Chloe Bourgeois returned to her apartment late that night. Dealing with the heightened emotions of Adrien Agreste was never the highlight of her day, and the events of this night were no exception. She was tired. Closing the door behind her, she kicked off her heels and picked them up, crossing through the hallway and entering her room. She tossed her clutch onto her bed and let her hair out of its updo. She slipped out of her yellow dress and hung it carefully in her closet.
As she double-checked her locked door and flicked off the lights in her kitchen, a shot of movement caught her eye from out her balcony window. She froze where she was, turning her head slightly and straining her eyes in the darkness. She waited, watching. Minutes passed as she stood there, unmoving.
Just when she was beginning to think she imagined it, she caught it again, and she realized what she was looking at.
A distant figure stood outside her apartment, shadowed by a tree. They stared up at her balcony, casually, as though inspecting the looming architecture. But this was no passerby on a late-night walk. Chloe knew exactly what this was.
A warning.
She'd continued to receive letters and notes from Papillon throughout the month. He was very persistent. But she had continued to ignore them, or tried her best at least. It was difficult to ignore his words as she saw his warnings play out in front of her.
Adrien continued to ignore her advice and dismiss her ideas. He continued to make rash decisions without her counsel. He dragged her into dangerous situations, which could compromise her position as being legally clear of wrongdoing.
Papillon had warned her about all of it: Reassured her that she'd have a place with him. That he'd respect her and listen to her and keep her safe. His carefully written words had a weight behind them that was impossible for Chloe to ignore. But he was also manipulating Adrien. She knew it for a fact. He was lying and exaggerating the actions of the family Coccinelle and actively plying Adrien into trusting him over them. Which was highly suspicious.
But this. This was a step above notes and letters. A step above veiled suggestions and open manipulation. He'd sent someone to her apartment, violating one of the oaths of omertà. This was no longer a one-sided conversation. He was expecting an answer.
Chloe continued to stare at the distant figure below, her body refusing to move. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She couldn't deal with this. Not tonight. She pressed her back against the wall and slowly slid down it until she was sitting on the ground before rotating and sliding to her stomach. She crawled across the floor and, reaching up, pulled the curtains to cover the glass, her heart hammering in her chest. Even with the curtains shut, she couldn't bring herself to get up.
She crawled to her room, shutting the door behind her and locking this one too. She checked her windows, ensuring they were locked and curtains closed, before she lay down on her bed. Even through her fear, her adrenaline had eaten away what little energy she had left from the already draining evening, and she fell asleep in minutes.
In the morning, she checked her doors and windows for signs of intrusion, finding none. She saved her balcony window for last. She crouched down and peeked under the curtains, looking for the figure from the night before. They were no longer there.
What was there was another note, tucked into the seam of her window. Swallowing, she unlocked the sliding door and reached out, snatching it up before shutting and locking the door, pulling the curtains tightly closed. Her heart beat frantically, even though she had not seen anyone waiting for her. She gazed at the note in her hands for a long moment before unfolding it.
The hour grows late, and yet your silence lingers.
I trust it is not indecision, only discretion. In either case, I believe it is time for clarity.
Expect a visitor before the week’s end. They will not come twice.
Your answer, whatever it may be, should be ready.
Regards,
Papillon
"Max Kanté," Chat Noir said slowly, surveying the man before him. Max was one of his most loyal caporegimes. He led one of the most experienced crews in the Agreste family business and had assisted in many previous operations. He was a man Chat could trust.
"Boss," he inclined his head.
"Chloe mentioned to me that a few of your soldiers have been tracking Ladybug's movements." Chat steepled his fingers, eyes trained carefully. Max nodded.
"Yes. Nino has spoken to me about it, and I've ordered them to stop." Chat nodded, slowly, processing.
"Which soldiers were these?" He asked.
"Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marc Anciel," Max replied. Chat Noir didn't speak for a moment, contemplating his next words. He had to choose them carefully.
"I would like them to continue," Chat said, monitoring Max's reaction. He hesitated.
"To resume their tracking, boss?" He asked uneasily.
"Yes," Chat replied. "The family Coccinelle is not playing by the rules and has officially broken my trust. I'd like to have her whereabouts monitored. Not so far as to track her to her home, but when she is at her headquarters, I'd like to know."
Max swallowed, but his discomfort did not show in his face.
"I will inform them immediately," he bowed and moved to leave the office.
"One last thing, Max." Chat remained uncharacteristically stony as he narrowed his eyes at Max. "Do not tell another soul. That includes Nino and Chloe. Do you understand?"
"Of course, boss," Max replied.
"Good," Chat said. "You are dismissed."
Adrien arrived home earlier than usual that evening, opening the door with a wide smile on his face. He'd already removed his domino mask, and as he stepped through the entryway, he laid his eyes on Marinette, curled up on the couch, reading her book. He grinned and approached her, holding out a large bouquet of gardenias and forget-me-nots.
"Oh, Adrien!" She gasped, setting her book aside. "They're so beautiful." She accepted the outstretched flowers as Adrien wrapped an arm around her, nuzzling her neck.
"Not as beautiful as you," he murmured.
"What's the occasion?" She asked, cradling the bouquet and closing her eyes, breathing in deeply.
"None beyond the fact that I'm desperately in love with you," he grinned that toothy grin of his. Marinette's smile grew wider, beaming up at him.
"You're too sweet." She grabbed his tie and pulled him down for a kiss. Adrien melted, holding onto her as though for dear life. She hummed against his lips, amused by his show. After a moment, she gently pulled away, and Adrien blinked slowly, dazed. "You're home early. I haven't even gotten started on dinner."
"Allow me to help you then," Adrien swooped down to kiss her cheek, taking the flowers from her grasp. "I'll get these prepped for a vase, shall I?" Marinette giggled as he pulled her into the kitchen, only to press her against the counter and kiss her once more.
"We'll never eat dinner at this pace," Marinette teased as he finally pulled away in search of scissors and a vase.
"We're twice as fast when we're together, darling," Adrien shot her a wink as she began getting out the ingredients for a pesto gnocchi di patate.
"When we can keep our hands off of each other," Marinette teased, shooting him a look that made Adrien's heart flutter.
"Don't tempt me then," he retorted, biting his lip and wiggling his eyebrows as he began cutting the stems of the flowers.
"Whatever do you mean by that?" She raised an eyebrow in mock innocence. She flicked on the stove, setting a pot of water atop it.
"You know exactly what I mean, Princess," he purred, surveying her with hooded eyes and pausing his ministrations to the flowers. His look was enough to make Marinette forget what she had been about to do. She blinked before shaking her head slightly and walking behind him to take the gnocchi out of the fridge.
"You can't make comments like that, darling, it's quite disarming," she murmured, nipping his ear. His eyes turned feline as he twisted to look at her.
"You know I can't resist," he shot her a wink. She laughed, the sound echoing around them. She leaned against the counter between the stove and the sink, watching Adrien carefully place the flowers in a glass vase. He was careful about their heights and gently organized them into a pattern he deemed suitable. The water began boiling as he stepped out to place it on the table. As he centered it, his eyes flickered to the book Marinette had been reading on the coffee table.
He paused for a moment, looking at it. He walked toward it, inspecting the bookmark placement, quite near the cover.
"Darling," he called out, eyes still fixed on the book. "How long have you been reading this book of yours for?"
"About two weeks now," she called back. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, just curious if you needed another book to devour," Adrien responded slowly. He was sure it had been more than two weeks. Positive even. Was she re-reading it? The bookmark had hardly moved from when he'd seen her first reading it. It was the only book he ever saw her with. His brows furrowed.
"Sweetheart, would you mind giving me a hand with the pesto?" Marinette's voice floated from the kitchen as he heard her opening and closing cupboards.
"Of course!" Adrien responded, walking back to the kitchen, mind racing.
Chloe stayed up late, Friday night. She'd returned home earlier than usual, suffering from a lack of duties that week. Adrien had been so caught up in catching Ladybug in whatever non-existent scheme he was convinced she was a part of that he had put off many of his other responsibilities, one of which was meeting with her regularly and updating her on their illicit business ventures.
She normally would've minded more if she hadn't been so preoccupied. If the note could be trusted, Chloe was to expect a visitor that evening, a messenger from Papillon. It was all she'd been able to think about.
Her balcony curtains still closed tightly, Chloe had made no obvious clues she was home, electing to keep her main lights off, sipping from a shallow glass of wine beneath the light of a simple lamp. A simple pistol lay beside her on the cushion. Just a precaution. If Papillon wanted to hurt her, he'd had plenty of opportunity before now. The elaborate charade would've been a poor plan for a murder, but she wanted to be careful.
She was calmer than she thought she'd be. What with Adrien pissing her off almost every day at this point, either from petty arguments or ignoring her and her advice, she was quite looking forward to hearing out whoever came to her tonight. She was miserable, quite frankly. Tired of cleaning up Adrien's messes, for giving him advice he refused to take, the blatant disrespect.
She didn't complete law school just to be bullied by someone she once considered a friend. And though she didn't quite trust Papillon, it was hard to ignore his promises.
Chloe was surprised when she reached the bottom of her glass, eyes flickering to the clock on her stove. 10:43 it read. Late, but maybe not late enough. What was a few more hours of patience? Lord knew she'd been everlastingly patient the whole week. She sighed, standing to retrieve her bottle, pouring herself another glass before sitting back down in her warm gray armchair.
The minutes ticked away as Chloe contemplated the room before her, her eyes slipping from her coffee table to the worn carpet beneath her feet. The painting on her wall threw a stretched shadow from the strange angle of the lamp above her head. The electric hum of the appliances from her kitchen was the only sound she heard, except for the incessant meowing from the stray that liked to bother her downstairs neighbors.
It was around eleven thirty when Chloe's eyelids began to grow heavy, resting her head against the back of her armchair. Her blinks grew longer. She'd long set down her wine. She was beginning to think she'd misunderstood the note, that they'd be coming tomorrow or some other weekend, when she heard a soft yet unmistakable knock at her door.
Her eyes flashed open in an instant as she stood, staring at her apartment door. She moved slowly, crossing the room to peer through the peephole before unlocking it and slowly pulling it open to reveal a well-dressed woman with brunette hair. Her eyes flashed with amusement.
"Chloe Bourgeois? I'm Lila Rossi, may I come in?"
Notes:
If you're curious about all the girls' dresses in the beginning, this was my inspiration:
Chloe (imagine it a little lighter in color): Chloe Pinterest Dress
Juleka: Juleka Pinterest Dress
Alya: Alya Pinterest Dress
Marinette: Marinette Pinterest Dress
Chapter Text
Chloe hesitated only for a moment before swinging the door open and motioning Lila inside. Glancing around the hallway, she shut the door with a snap and relocked it. She turned to face this newcomer who was standing in her living room with an air of nonchalance that deeply irked her. Lila smiled knowingly, unbothered by her surroundings. Chloe cleared her throat, gesturing to her couch.
"Would you like a seat?"
"Thank you," Lila smiled, sitting down, crossing her legs, and tucking her clutch close. Chloe's heart rate was steadily falling back to its usual pace, but her palms felt a little sweaty, and the air felt too still against her neck. She clicked on the ceiling fan before settling into the same armchair as before. She didn't bother turning on any additional lights, content with leaving the minute details of her apartment a mystery of darkness.
"Sorry for the late hour," Lila spoke up. "I had another appointment to contend with tonight."
"Quite alright," Chloe said, having nothing more to add. She wasn't about to supply more information than necessary. Lila peered at her through her thick lashes. Her gaze was steady and unnerving, but Chloe was not one to be outdone. She was calm, collected, and her gaze remained lazily on her somewhat unwelcome guest.
"I'm sure you're just burning with curiosity about the subject of tonight's meeting," Lila smiled, lips closed. Chloe just hmmed noncommittally. She was quietly delighted to see that her casualness was getting under her skin, just a bit, but Lila remained almost entirely imperceptible. "You've been receiving our notes?"
"Yes, well, they weren't exactly subtle," Chloe said, running her finger along the rim of her empty wine glass resting on the side table. "Tell me, was that you outside my window a few nights ago, or another one of Papillon's minions?" Lila just laughed, a high-pitched artificial thing. It made Chloe's skin crawl.
"You're funny," Lila responded, batting her eyes slowly. "Papillon just wanted to make himself clear."
"Ah, so that's why it was all in code. He was being straightforward," Chloe said, sarcastically, eyebrow raised. Lila didn't seem to like that, pursing her lips.
"Regardless, I'm sure you understand the nature of this meeting." Chloe nodded shortly.
"He's trying to recruit me," she said simply. Lila smiled.
"Exactly right." Chloe took a deep breath, feeling herself begin to tense. She needed to relax. This was her home, her space. She was protected. No matter how much Lila unnerved her, and regardless of the lack of privacy she'd felt this week, she had the family Agreste on her side. No matter all the tricks these newer families pulled, Agreste was still the biggest, more powerful than both of them combined.
"I'm afraid I'll need more details than that," Chloe simpered.
"Of course," Lila responded. "Papillon is looking to replace his consigliere." Chloe raised an eyebrow. This was news to her. Just two months ago, Mme. Sancoeur had attended the meeting of the heads as the Papillon representative.
"May I ask why the consigliere needs replacing?" Lila caught her meaning.
"No need to fear for Nathalie. Nothing untoward has occurred, I assure you. She remains a part of the family Papillon, and will remain so when you join. Papillon honors those who honor him. He's simply looking to shake up his current leadership structure and finds himself in need of a new lawful representative, and you came highly recommended." Lila inclined her head.
"Recommended by whom?" Chloe asked incredulously.
"Your mother," Lila said. Chloe's heart dropped into her stomach, losing the battle of feigned insouciance as she blinked in shock. Her mother? Lila continued speaking as Chloe attempted to process. "Her opinion is trusted by Papillon, and he knows for himself your evident trustworthiness."
"Funny," Chloe said, regaining her ability to speak, though her suspicion and her pulse were piqued higher than before. "I couldn't say the same for him."
"You haven't given him much of a chance," Lila replied, eyebrows raised. Chloe remained unimpressed.
"He doesn't need one. You don't think I know just how much he's been lying to the family Agreste? I'm aware of his flagrant use of manipulation, I hesitate to give him the benefit of the doubt there," she said, incredulously, awaiting a proper response.
"I'll admit we've been embellishing things here and there in our communications with Chat Noir, but it's for the greater good." Lila's eyes were narrowed as she leaned forward a bit. "Coccinelle is not who you think they are. Ladybug is dangerous. She's hiding something, and it's something Papillon wants back." Chloe rolled her eyes, her disdain obvious.
"I'll believe it when I see legitimate proof. Until then, I'm afraid Papillon is out of luck."
"We understand," Lila said, a small smile on her lips. "Trust is not easy to build in this business, but Papillon does want you to know just how much he values his family members, and that the offer will remain open should you change your mind." She stood lightly, Chloe following suit, leading her in the direction of the door.
"One more thing," Lila said as Chloe reached for the doorknob. "I thought it might interest you to know that your half-sister Zoé Lee is working for Coccinelle." Chloe's heart stopped, her fingertips inches from the door. This was of interest to her, though she didn't want Lila to know it.
"No– Zoe never... You must be mistaken," Chloe smiled slightly, though it was a weak thing. "Zoe has no interest in following in the footsteps of our mother." She pulled open the door, hoping to end the conversation.
"Well, maybe that's something to bring up with her, hm?" Lila's eyes twinkled. Chloe swallowed as she gazed unfocused at her guest. As she watched, Lila clicked open her clutch and removed a sealed envelope from it. She handed it to Chloe before crossing in front of her and out the door. Chloe blinked, watching her disappear through the corridor.
"Mlle. Rossi?" Chloe called. Lila stopped and turned slowly, unspeaking as she tilted her head at the blonde. "There is one thing I value above all in this cosa nostra," Chloe said, eyes trained on the woman before her. "And that is transparency. If Papillon refuses to be honest and open about his dealings, I have no interest in dealing with him."
She saw Lila smile in the darkness, before she nodded and turned, descending the stairwell and not paying Chloe another passing glance. It took Chloe several moments to tear her gaze from the stairs before pulling herself back into her apartment, shutting and double-locking her door. She leaned against it, allowing herself to catch her breath. Her heart raced. It was another few moments before she remembered the envelope in her hands.
She peered down at it, inspecting its color and shape. This letter was quite different from the others she'd been receiving: Thick white paper with a yellow wax stamp of a bee. She gazed at it for only a few seconds more before slowly tearing it open. Her heart did a very funny thing as the familiar handwriting jumped out at her. It took her a full minute to realize she was reading without processing anything. She began again.
Chloé,
I’ve thought long about whether to write. You’ve always been… complicated. So desperate to prove yourself, so certain that if you just worked hard enough, someone would finally give you what you believed you’d earned. Recognition. Respect. My approval.
But darling, life doesn’t work that way. Not in this world.
You’ve always had a great deal of potential. That was never in question. What’s been in question, constantly, is whether you would ever do something meaningful with it. Every opportunity you’ve had, you’ve treated like a favor to someone else. As if your presence alone was enough. It isn’t.
You have spent your life trying to prove yourself: To others, to Adrien, and, I suppose, to me. Though I have been cold at times, it was never from a lack of belief. You have always had something in you that most women, most people, do not: nerve, cunning, and a certain fire that does not flicker out when the room turns dark. You get that from me.
Papillon didn’t come seeking my advice; I went to him. I gave him your name because, in spite of everything, I still believe you could be something. A real consigliere, not a glorified secretary clinging to a boy playing dress-up with a dead man’s title. Papillon sees your value. Adrien doesn't even see the pieces on the board. Let’s be honest, loyalty to the Agreste family died with Emilie. Everything since then has been sentiment, not strategy— and you know it.
You are too smart to be background noise, Chloé. Too capable to stand just outside the spotlight, waiting for scraps from a boy who inherited a throne he doesn’t know how to sit on. Papillon needs someone who sees through the pageantry and understands how the game is really played. Someone who knows how to win— and how to advise when winning isn’t enough.
I know what you’ll think. That this is about me, that I’m pulling strings again. Maybe. Or maybe I’m finally giving you the one thing you’ve always wanted from me: a chance to prove yourself.
Don't tell yourself you have a choice. In truth, you’ve been waiting for someone to give you permission. So here it is, Chloé: Make yourself useful to someone who knows how to use you.
Don’t let this be one more thing you almost did right.
–Mother
"I'm struggling to see what we can do to improve the situation," Rena said, exasperatedly.
"We need to figure out something!" Ladybug responded, throwing her hands in the air. "Chat Noir doesn't trust us, and I have no clue why. What could we possibly have done?"
"Luka said Chat was annoyed about us stealing from his protection business," Rena supplied. Ladybug groaned, sinking deeper into her desk chair.
"But we've moved on from that! He saw for himself just how focused we are on the gambling and the floating casinos," Ladybug responded. Rena just pursed her lips. Wang took the empty moment to speak up.
"Maybe he's suspicious of that." The two women looked to him, Ladybug's brows furrowed in confusion, and Rena's eyes narrowed, considering. "It is a little surprising how successful this new business venture has been for us. Maybe he suspects we're manipulating something behind the scenes, or it's a cover-up for something else." His suggestion weighed on them for a moment before Ladybug shook her head.
"That may be true, but we haven't actually done anything to provoke suspicion." Rena tilted her head and made a noise deep in her throat. "You disagree?" Ladybug asked, turning to her.
"It's just that..." She paused briefly to consider her word choice. "It was kind of suspicious we were there." Ladybug swallowed.
"True," she paused, recollecting her conversation with Adrien that night. "Adrien said he felt that if Ladybug wanted to hurt him, it would be easiest to go through me." Rena nodded in agreement.
"That's basically what Nino said. That was a dangerous mistake to make. It looks like the Coccinelle family is toying with their spouses. That's more than enough reason not to trust us," Rena pointed out.
"I agree," Ladybug sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "But it doesn't explain their lack of trust before that night. Adrien didn't trust Coccinelle far before he spotted me playing poker." She said it bitterly, crossing her arms.
"It doesn't," Wang agreed. "But it certainly explains it now. You both need to be a little more careful. Anything you're involved with, even if you have a good lie for it, makes Ladybug look less trustworthy." Ladybug groaned in response.
"I just wish there was a way we could fix this, prove we're allies."
"The only way to do that is to play by the rules," Wang said, simply.
"We have been," Rena said, dissatisfied, tapping her fingernails on the shelf behind her. Ladybug looked to her, frustration burning in her chest from the expression Rena wore.
"I know that," Wang said, a quiet smile on his face. "But Chat Noir does not."
There was a beat of silence as the three considered the implications of such a statement.
"I wonder..." Ladybug paused, thinking deeply, developing her idea before voicing it. "What if we called another meeting? Not a full meeting of the heads, but a one-on-one with Chat Noir?" She watched her accomplices mull it over.
"That's not a bad idea," Rena voiced first. Wang nodded in agreement.
"Communication is always important, especially when it appears we may be on very different pages."
"Then it's settled." Marinette pulled a piece of paper out of her desk and poised a pen above it. "Just a simple meeting. The problem is, where?"
"The Boulangerie Patisserie?" Rena suggested. Ladybug shook her head.
"We can't have it connected to my civilian identity. The Eiffel Tower?"
"Too auspicious," Wang said.
"I'm just trying to think of somewhere that's neutral ground," Ladybug said, biting her lip, deep in thought.
"Are we sending Luka again?" Rena asked curiously.
"I'm not sure," Ladybug said, considering. "From what he said, they didn't exactly get off on the right foot. Why do you ask?"
"Luka owns a boat on the Seine. That feels like neutral ground to me." Rena shrugged. Ladybug's eyebrows raised as this new option presented itself. She hmmed.
"I believe Juleka owns the boat, actually, but you might be onto something there."
"Would Juleka feel comfortable inviting Chat Noir to her personal property?" Wang asked, concerned.
"I would think so. From what I understand, she doesn't live there, and she's hosted a few poker nights there in the last month." Ladybug said, tapping the pen to her bottom lip.
"If anything, Luka and Juleka own a lot of property since the Luck Charm has gotten so popular. I'm sure if we asked, they'd have somewhere we could host a meeting," Rena said.
"Alright," Ladybug said, nodding. "I'll put off the letter writing until we speak with Juleka and Luka. We may have to send her instead of Luka if he feels it would be best." She groaned, remembering something. "I still need to speak with Juleka anyway, about the incident."
"That was hardly her fault," Rena said in an appeasing tone.
"Agree to disagree," Ladybug said, darkly, only to sigh and relax her shoulders a moment later. "She's not going to be punished, but security certainly needs its improvements, and that responsibility is hers alone."
She stood up from her desk and walked to the door, grabbing her coat, day gloves, and clutch from the hatstand in the corner. She turned to Rena and Wang.
"Adrien's been coming home earlier than usual, so I'll be heading home now, unless there's anything else to discuss?" Her eyebrow raised as she adjusted the fingertips of her gloves. Neither responded, Wang shaking his head and Alya watching her, thoughtfully. "Wonderful. I'll see you both tomorrow. Rena, reach out to the Couffaines and see if they can meet with us tomorrow or the next day."
Rena nodded and Ladybug smiled, adjusting her coat and leaving the room. It was a long walk home.
Chloe lay, tangled in the sheets, smoking a cigarette. Sabrina stirred next to her, curled away, facing the window. Sunlight filtered through the partially shut blinds, catching the smoke in the air as a light breeze wafted through. It was warm in Sabrina's studio apartment. Chloe had been here many times before, a habit she refused to break. The walls were a light blue and purple accents dotted the room. It was an older place. Warm dark wood covered the floor and all the fixtures were copper.
It was quite a small apartment. Her bedroom and kitchen were squished into one room, with a bathroom off to the side. No matter what Chloe suggested, Sabrina refused to move anywhere else. She loved the coziness of it, and the view was phenomenal, even Chloe had to admit.
It was a quiet morning. Traffic had not yet picked up, the occasional solitary car sliding past. The birds wouldn't shut up, much to Chloe's annoyance. Sabrina had been telling her there was a family nested just on top of the window outside. Chloe's eyes darted to a clock hung on the wall and sighed quietly. What little sleep Chloe had gotten couldn't be helped now.
Carefully, she extracted herself from Sabrina's side, cigarette stuck between her lips and reached for her silk robe hanging off the back of a chair. Covering her lack of clothing, she walked to the bathroom and flicked on the light, inspecting her expression. Noticing how short her cigarette was getting, she took one last draw before wetting it under the faucet and throwing it into the trash.
She washed her face, gently running her fingers along the bottoms her eyes. Not quite bags, but there was certainly evidence of a lack of proper sleep there. She grabbed a towel from beside her and patted her face dry. Stepping out, her eyes darted to the bed, where Sabrina lounged, awake now and watching her. She made no move to cover herself.
"Morning," she said, reaching for her glasses.
"Morning," Chloe replied, walking to the kitchen.
"Looking for breakfast?" Sabrina asked, finally getting up. She too grabbed her silk robe, which had gotten lost in the bedsheets, and crossed over to Chloe, reaching into a cupboard. She pulled out a loaf of brioche and Chloe smiled.
"You know me too well." Sabrina just winked in response.
"You want to start up the coffee?" She asked. Chloe didn't reply, just walking around her to turn on the espresso machine. They didn't speak as they both prepared breakfast, Sabrina reaching into the fridge to grab the apricot jam and butter. She cut the brioche and lightly toasted it, grabbing two plates from the cupboard above Chloe's head.
Chloe reached around her to grab two demitasses, setting them down before her. She'd already filled the portafilter before locking it in and placing the cups beneath the head, starting up the machine. She breathed deeply as the hot water filtered through and the espresso streamed out.
"Creamer?" She asked, walking over to the fridge.
"Yes, please," Sabrina responded, taking the two plates over to the table, Chloe not far behind. She returned to the counter to grab their espressos, setting them down ahead of the plates, as they both sat to eat.
Again, they remained mostly quiet, the only sounds coming from their chewing and sipping as they slowly woke up to the day.
Chloe particularly had a lot on her mind. As she finished her brioche, she brushed the crumbs off her fingers and looked across to Sabrina, who just raised an eyebrow, sipping her cappuccino.
"I'm thinking about visiting Zoe," she said, finally. If Sabrina was surprised, she didn't show it.
"Whatever for?" She asked. Chloe had not explained her recent encounters with Papillon and Lila to anyone, including Sabrina. It just didn't feel smart. She needed to play her cards carefully, and letting people into the game didn't feel like a good idea at the moment.
"I heard a rumor," she hesitated. "A rumor that she might be working for Ladybug." At this, the surprise on Sabrina's face was unmistakable.
"Really? I thought Zoe had no interest in the business," Sabrina took her final bite of brioche, brushing her fingers off on her napkin.
"That's what I thought too." Chloe frowned. "Which is why I want to talk to her."
"Doesn't she live hours away? When are you going to get the time?" Sabrina asked, standing and picking up their dishes to take them to the sink.
"She's only an hour away, she lives in Chevreuse," Chloe replied, swivelling. "I'll go for the weekend."
"This weekend?" Sabrina didn't quite frown, but she did look a little concerned. Chloe could understand her hesitance.
"Yeah, Saturday. I'll be back Sunday or Monday, we'll see how welcome I am," Chloe bit the inside of her cheek, brow furrowed. Zoe and her didn't speak often. Childhood trauma and all that. But they still loved each other, she'd understand Chloe's concern. At least, she hoped.
It took a moment for Sabrina to speak up.
"Well, be careful," she said softly. "Are you telling anyone else?" Chloe shook her head.
"I don't think it's a big deal. I don't want to worry anyone, but I'm telling you so if something happens while I'm gone, someone knows where I am." Sabrina just nodded, rinsing off their dishes and placing them on a drying rack off to the side.
"I hear Chevreuse is beautiful this time of year," she commented, drying off her hands. Chloe just nodded, her thoughts somewhere else.
Mylene was in charge of posting the note to the posta in Bianchi's, the deli on 57 Rue de Bretagne. It had taken them a while to formulate a letter. After discussing the subject with Luka and Juleka, it had been decided that their underground jazz bar would be the best place for a meeting, and it was also decided that Juleka would be the one to meet with Chat Noir, and that Ivan would accompany her, should anything go wrong. They were allowing Chat an extra body as well. Marinette assumed this would be Nino, unless Chat felt particularly threatened. Maybe he'd bring Kim.
Whatever the case, the note was written and posted, complete with the ink stamp of a ladybug in the bottom right corner. All they could do now was wait.
"You what?" Chloe asked, incredulously. Her mouth hung partially agape in disbelief and disapproval. Chat Noir shifted in his chair, uncomfortably under her gaze.
"It's a necessary precaution, Chloe," he maintained. She just shook her head, slowly, unblinking. She clenched her jaw and openly glared at him.
"Stalking a fellow mafia don? I don't think so," Chloe scoffed. Nino decided to come to Adrien's defence.
"She's been using our wives, like they're some pieces in a game. Forgive us if we don't particularly trust her with them in the mix." He said it calmly, but Chloe could sense a faint tension in his expression. He was genuinely worried. Chloe sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.
"I admit that night is difficult to explain." She pieced her words. "But you saw how the hosts treated us. If they had nothing to hide, including your wives, why would they have been so accommodating? Why would Mlle. Couffaine even bring us back there in the first place?"
"To prove something," Chat slammed his fist against the table. Chloe stiffened. "She wanted us to know they were there."
"But why?" She insisted. "You're preparing for a power play that isn't in her best interest."
"What do you mean not in her best interest?" Nino said, leaning off from the bookshelves and uncrossing his arms, putting them instead in his pockets. Adrien too, seemed to lean forward, head tilted with feline curiosity. Chloe pressed her lips together, eyes darting between them.
"Let's be logical here," she said sharply. "The Coccinelle family is a small operation. Their grip on underground crime in Paris is minuscule compared to ours. Yes, their gambling racket seems to be going very well, but in terms of numbers, they stand no chance against us. They've only been in existence for a little over a year. Need I remind you, the Agreste family has been successfully operating for almost fifty years now.
"If Ladybug is so keen on starting a war between families, she's not making it very apparent, and she stands absolutely no chance of success. We'd wipe the floor with her." Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed Adrien. "It would be suicide on her part to even try."
This caused a pause in Chat Noir. Nino too, seemed quite disarmed. Neither spoke.
"I fear that you're jumping the gun a bit," she said, turning toward Adrien. He looked at her with those bright green eyes of his. "If you're wrong about this, you have violated one of the most important oaths of omertà, and if she discovers this betrayal, there is no going back." Her eyes were intent, her tone soft and cajoling.
"You have to think about this. There hasn't been a war in twenty years, excusing the close call when your mother died. Do you really want to start one now?"
It took almost a full minute for Adrien to reply.
"Chloe..." He didn't meet her eyes. "You're being too lenient. If your spouse's safety was on the line, maybe you'd understand–" Chloe bolted out of her seat, fury boiling her blood.
"So that's it then?" She asked, voice deep and mutinous. Adrien still refused to meet her eyes. "You're just going to continue ignoring my advice?"
"Hey, hey. Let's calm down a little bit–" Nino was cut off.
"Why the hell did you hire me, Adrien?" Chloe asked, her voice hovering above a whisper. She saw his fists clench against the desk. "Look at me!" She shouted it, her whole body shaking with rage. And he finally did. "I want an honest-to-god answer, Adrien. Why did you hire me if you keep ignoring my advice?" In this response, he did not hesitate.
"Because I thought you'd back me up," he replied quietly. Chloe scoffed, wrenching her shoulder from Nino's grasp. She stalked up to the door, tearing her coat off its hook.
"If that's really what you believed, Adrien..." Her gaze felt like a hot knife against his cheek. He grimaced despite himself. "Then you're a bigger fool than I thought. A good leader knows when to admit he's wrong."
"I'm not wrong about this," Adrien said, finally standing to face her. Her eyes narrowed.
"We'll see about that." And she turned on her heel and left the room.
She was so consumed in her anger, she forgot where she was for a moment, standing in the first floor of headquarters, mafiosos moving around her, going about their business. She sucked in a breath, surprised to find her eyes faintly wet. She rapidly blinked away the moisture and left the house with a purpose.
Calling for a taxi, she made her way slowly home through the Paris traffic, her mind a whirr. She tipped the cabbie well before taking her apartment steps two at a time, fumbling with the lock. She pushed her door open and raced to her room, packing furiously. It was Friday night, and she didn't want to see Adrien's face for a good long while.
Throwing her previous plans for the following morning out the window, she packed her weekend bag with all the essentials and was ready to go in about half an hour. She paused, standing in front of her floor-length mirror, inspecting her appearance.
She was not normally so capricious, but she'd also never been so furious with Adrien in her life. Served him right if she was unavailable for the next three days. She was right about this, and she knew it deep down. Maybe this meeting with Zoe could serve as some detective work beyond her own self-interest: She might just prevent a war.
Shouldering her bag and grabbing her keys, she locked up and descended the stairs to the parking garage just behind the building. Tossing her bag in the backseat of her black Citroën DS, she donned her sunglasses and started the ignition.
Turning on the radio, she left her apartment behind and began the steady drive to Chevreuse. With any luck, she'd arrive before dark.
Adrien was notably flustered after his argument with Chloe, ordering Nino to deal with any serious business for the rest of the day. He tried to stick around at least, but quickly grew restless. He went for a walk, neglecting his usual domino mask and taking in the sights of the city he called home. It took him too long to realize what direction he was heading. He didn't even notice until he spotted the Eiffel tower in the distance to his left.
He checked his watch, startled to find he'd been walking for nearly an hour and a half. Groaning inwardly, he made his way to a busier street before hailing a cab. It only took a minute for one to stop by.
"Rue Catulle Mendes, 17th arrondissement," he said, getting in. It was a fairly short drive from there.
As the cab pulled up to the apartment complex, Adrien's breath caught in his throat. What was he going to say? Was there any way he could repair this?
Ignoring his fears, he handed the cab driver €20 and got out, buttoning his suit coat as the cab drove off. He stood on the sidewalk for too long, his feet refusing to propel him forward.
Surely, his relationship with Chloe was stronger than this. They were childhood friends. They had nearly two decades of friendship now. She'd been there for him when his mother died, before he married Marinette. She'd been there for him when his father abandoned him. He'd been there every time her mother pushed her to the side, and every time she rebounded, pressuring her to succeed no matter the cost. They had both cried in front of each other.
Adrien had lied when he said he'd hired her because he thought she'd always side with him. He'd hired her because she was a spitfire, wildly intelligent, and unafraid of anything. She was rarely wrong and refused to be underestimated. She understood him like few did and valued their friendship. She built him up and kept him humble. And Adrien knew, deep down, he'd done a terrible job of reciprocating that lately.
Swallowing his pride, Adrien ascended the steps to her apartment. It had been a while since he'd visited, but he knew which one it was.
Which is why he was immediately on high alert when he saw said door cracked open. Noticing little evidence of a forced entry, he dodged to the side, hand on the gun in his chest holster. He could hear his heart beating rigorously in his chest.
If something had happened to her– if she'd been hurt, or worse... He would never forgive himself. He knew deep down he'd never tire until she was avenged. Stopping this spiral of thoughts, he focused and crept closer to her door.
In one swift move, he pushed open the door and pointed his gun inward, shielding his body with the doorframe.
Nothing moved. He heard no noise.
The living room seemed clear. Cautiously stepping forward, he entered her apartment and allowed his eyes a moment to adjust to the lack of light. Taking no chances, he crept forward to the hallway that led to her room, his head on a swivel. Her bedroom door was shut, no light filtering from its seams.
Steeling himself, he gently grasped the knob. He pushed the door open, twisting out of the way, gun pointed into its depths.
Again, nothing. No one remained in her apartment. Adrien sighed and hesitantly holstered his gun. He was overreacting. Chloe must not have come home yet. Maybe she was with Sabrina and had simply forgotten to close her door all the way. Though she was detail-oriented, she may have been in a rush that morning.
He forced himself to relax, shutting the front door and flicking on the light. His eyes roved the room, looking for any sign of a struggle. There was none. Sighing to himself, he reached for the doorknob to leave before something caught his eye.
A simple piece of paper lay on the table, a torn right corner from a much larger sheet of paper. His blood ran cold as he processed what he was looking at. Sprinting to the phone on the wall, he dialled Nino's number with a quickness he didn't know he had.
It rang. Once. Twice.
"Lahiffe residence, who–"
"Nino," Adrien interjected. "Chloe's been taken." There was a pregnant pause on the other end as Nino stuttered in shock.
"What do you mean? By who? Where are you?" His voice was frantic, as though he were gesturing to other people in the room.
"I went to her apartment to apologize for earlier, and when I got here, her door was hanging open and she wasn't here. And I found a note." He said, his stare locked mutinously on the scrap across the room.
"What did it say?" Nino asked, his voice hushed.
"Nothing," Adrien growled. He was going to get a headache from the near-constant clench of his jaw. "It's a stamp of a Ladybug."
Notes:
It is at this moment that I feel I should confess, I have no beta reader and yes I will be dying like a man. Please comment if you so desire, it goes a long way for my motivation
Love yall
Chapter 6: Trasgressioni
Notes:
Made man/woman - A fully initiated, formally inducted member of a Mafia organization, who has proven their loyalty, usefulness, and willingness to commit crimes (often murder) on behalf of the Mafia and has sworn the law of omertà.
_______________________________________________
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was around five o'clock when Zoe finished at the grocers. She jumped into her squashed Renault 4 and made her way through the village, taking the diverging road into the trees. It took her about fifteen minutes to get to her house, out in the middle of nowhere. Being a keeper of a safe house had its perks, namely, its privacy.
She turned, pulling into her somewhat steep driveway, noticing a black car parked out front. She frowned. She wasn't expecting any visitors, but she saw no one around.
She parked and got out, loading her arms with her groceries for the week. Holding her keys in her mouth, she made her way carefully across to her side door. She struggled juggling the groceries and her keys for a moment before she heard a voice to her left.
"Need help with all that?" She whipped around and saw, to her great surprise, Chloe, standing there uncomfortably and staring at the large load in her hands. Zoe faltered, gazing at her half-sister with metered suspicion.
"Yes, please," she conceded, passing a full paper bag to her. Chloe adjusted it against her hip while Zoe managed to unlock the door. Stepping through, she tossed the keys to the counter and set the groceries on her stone island, gesturing for Chloe to do likewise. She turned and locked the door behind them, flicking on the light she'd missed before.
As she unpacked her groceries, she watched Chloe out of the corner of her eye. Chloe was inspecting the rooms. Warm and homey, Zoe's house was decorated to reflect a cottage feel, despite its size. The whole building was hardwood and stone, giving off a very natural tone. The tiles in the kitchen were of a reddish clay, mismatched and patterned, extending behind all the cabinetry. Gleaming copper pots hung from the ceiling, and plants covered the whole space.
Chloe leaned, inspecting the living room through the doorway before her. It was furnished softly with large and very squishy-looking couches and armchairs, all different colors, but lending themselves to the natural warm tone. They were gathered around a honey-wood coffee table on which sat several thick books, aesthetic displays by the looks of them. A stone and clay-edged fireplace stood proudly to one side of the room, decorated with even more plants. A warm carpet covered a large portion of the floor, red, brown, and yellow. She took a few steps forward, looking into the dining room off to her left.
A large, heavy table stood proudly, taking up a third of the room. A large bay window extended behind it, showing the view of the trees and the road passing in front of the house. Sconces hung around the room, copper to match all the other metal in the house.
Chloe drank it all in, fascinated by the place Zoe had been living for several years, away from all the family.
"You like?" Zoe smiled from her crouch in front of her fridge. "I decorated it myself." Chloe nodded slowly.
"You certainly have a very specific aesthetic going." Zoe laughed, standing up and shutting the door to the refrigerator. Finished with the food, she brushed past Chloe and climbed the stairs at the far end of the living room, out of view.
She knew what Chloe was here for. At least partially. She knew she'd never be able to get away with it for long, given how involved her mother and sister were in cosa nostra, but she had not expected an in-person call. She walked across the land to her bedroom, stepping through and across to the far wall. Grabbing her pistol from the hidden drawer in her dresser, she slipped it into her thigh holster, dropping the hem of her dress and smoothing out the wrinkles. She descended the stairs again to see Chloe standing quite uncomfortably in the living room. Zoe wanted to laugh again, but decided not to push her luck.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Zoe asked, plopping down in her favorite armchair and tucking her legs beneath her. She gestured for Chloe to sit as well, which she did after a beat. She was loath to speak, unable to formulate the words. "I assume you've heard about my association with the Coccinelle family?" Zoe said lightly, taking in Chloe's quick expression. Her lips pursed tightly, eyes catching her sister's.
"Yes," she said finally. Zoe nodded, taking this in.
"I assumed you would one day," she smiled lightly. "But why the house call?" Again, Chloe hesitated. Her pause made Zoe both amused and a little worried. There was not much that would reduce her sister to silence. She rarely saw her this unsure.
"It's less about you and more about... me," she finished lamely.
"As per usual," Zoe winked across at her. Chloe stiffened.
"You know about my position with the Agreste family." Zoe nodded, watching her sister's expression. "Recently, Papillon had been playing a heavy hand against us, convincing Adrien that the family Coccinelle cannot be trusted, with which I disagree." She said the last part hurriedly, cutting off whatever Zoe was about to say. "Not only that, but Papillon has approached me and offered a position in his ranks for... various reasons. When I was visited by his representative, she informed me you were working for Coccinelle."
"She's correct," Zoe said, brows furrowed. "But I'm not high-ranking. I'm just an associate. Ladybug entrusted me to look after a safe-house, that's my only role. I don't know why she felt the need to tell you."
"I'm not sure either," Chloe admitted. "It may just have been something to get under my skin." She hesitated again, realized, shook her head in frustration, and charged forward. "I think she was trying to further drive a wedge in my relationship with Adrien." Zoe raised an eyebrow.
"Trouble in paradise?" Chloe laughed, humorlessly.
"He trusts Papillon too much for my taste, and I think Papillon is reaching out to him directly, and he isn't consulting me about it. He sent us a letter a month and a half ago, but Adrien seems to be getting extra information every now and then. I simply can't find any evidence that Ladybug is doing anything untrustworthy. Everything I tell Adrien just gets ignored." Chloe was truly exasperated, glad to have this particular weight off her chest.
"I just don't understand what he finds so untrustworthy," Zoe mused.
"Exactly!" Chloe responded. "I know this is asking a lot, and maybe violates promises you may or may not have made to Ladybug, but I'm trying to prevent a war here." She sighed. "Ladybug isn't doing anything shady? She's not breaking omertà?" Zoe looked thoughtful as she considered.
"From what I know, she's honest," Zoe responded, smiling slightly at Chloe's relief. "Whatever protection we offer shouldn't be interfering with Agreste turf, and her new gambling empire is just that: Gambling, and books, and sports betting. Unless she's hiding something even among her ranks, which may be the case. I'm the lowest level you could possibly be, I'm not even a made woman."
"I know," Chloe said. "But thanks. Maybe Adrien'll believe me when I say I interrogated a member of Coccinelle." She smiled wryly as her sister laughed.
"If that's what this is, you're not doing a very good job of it."
"Well, I left my rubber hose and pliers in the car," she joked. Zoe just grinned and shook her head. She checked her watch and stood up, making for the kitchen, motioning for Chloe to follow her.
"How long were you planning on taking advantage of my hospitality?" Zoe asked, rooting around her cupboard for her recipe book.
"Truthfully, I can't stay long. I was avoiding Adrien, actually. We had a fight." She sighed. "But I was planning on leaving Sunday. Unless you need me to leave sooner," she said, eyeing Zoe's expression. She just shook her head with a smile.
"No, Sunday works just fine," she replied, flicking through the book. "How do you feel about Pasta alla Nerano?" Chloe smiled, finally allowing herself to relax.
"Sounds perfect." She watched her sister gather the ingredients and set them on the counter. She transferred a cutting board, knife, and zucchini to the island, setting them in front of her.
"Prepare this for me?"
"Of course," Chloe said, picking up the knife and glancing at her reflection for a moment in its blade, before slicing off the end. Idly cutting the vegetable into thin rounds, she watched her sister move around the kitchen, lighting the stove and setting a pot of water atop it. It had been two years since they'd spoken. Two years before that, Zoe had stormed away and fled Paris after a disagreement with their mother. It left them on such uneven ground, Chloe was surprised at Zoe's ease around her.
Chloe thought to the letter that was sitting in the backseat of her car out front.
"Do you talk to father and mother much?" She saw an almost imperceptible stiffness take over her sister before she relaxed again.
"Stepfather, on the occasion. We send letters. Mother... not so much." She said, simply. Chloe nodded and turned her attention back to the cutting board before she realized she had finished. She heard the water start to boil.
"I haven't seen Mother recently," Chloe said, wanting to contribute. "But she wrote me a letter."
"Oh?" Zoe asked noncommittally as she added the spaghetti to the pot.
"Yeah. Didn't much appreciate it, actually," Chloe responded, trying to inject some humor into the comment.
"Chloe?" Her sister spoke up. Chloe looked to her and made eye contact. Zoe leaned against the counter, arms folded across her chest. "I'd rather not speak about our parents."
"Agreed." Chloe nodded, attempting to relax, but her mind still wandered to the letter in the car.
It had all happened so fast. One moment, Marinette was exiting the headquarters for the Coccinelle family, and the next, she had a gag pressed over her mouth, a canvas sack thrown over her head, and her arms restrained behind her. Her clutch was torn from her grip as two aggressive forces dragged her forward, a hand covering her mouth over the sack. She didn't make it easy for them, wriggling and resisting as hard as she could, but when they managed to tie her wrists behind her back, she knew there was little to be done.
She was shoved into the backseat of a vehicle and pushed downward, to avoid the windows, she assumed. One of the presences kept a tight grip on her upper arm, surely bruising her flesh there. She winced underneath the sack. The quickly tied gag prevented her from speaking, not that she was attempting to do that at the moment.
Heart racing, she considered her options. She was relatively certain she knew who these people worked for, and if she was right, she had to escape, and quickly. But she couldn't escape from the car; she'd have to bide her time. Breathing slowly and deeply, she calmed her pulse and avoided relative suffocation. The hum of the car beneath her helped ease her a bit, though her position was far from comfortable.
After a short ride, she felt the car slow and pull into a rough driveway. Attempting to sit up, she was restrained until the car came to a complete stop. The man next to her dragged her up and out, the door having been opened, she stumbled, and the other pair of hands gripped her other arm. Rolling her eyes despite it all, she was led forward and to the right.
They walked through a back entryway of sorts before swerving to the right, and after a few paces, she was led down some steps to a much cooler part of the house, which she assumed was the basement. She heard a door open before she was shoved forward and guided to a chair. Here, her wrists were untied for a brief moment before being restrained against the back of the chair. Her ankles, too, were tied to the legs of the chair.
She heard the murmur of voices.
"You stand guard, I'll go get the boss." There was no reply from the other man, but she heard shuffling and the door swung shut. She breathed for a moment, assessing as best she could. From what she could tell, no one else was in the room.
Working quickly, she wriggled her hands, shifting them so her palms faced each other. Reaching with her right hand, she unclasped the watch on her left wrist and reoriented it, gripping the clasp tightly in her hand. Working quickly, she began sawing back and forth against her restraints.
Taking another leaf out of Alya's book, the clasp of her watch had been reinforced and sharpened into a crude blade. Within a minute, she felt the rope give, and she quickly removed the bag from her head, and, swiveling her eyes around the room, she untied the gag. Bending down, she nimbly untied the knots at her ankles.
The room was quite empty. Gray cement surrounded her; no windows to be seen. A table sat before her, pushed against the wall. She sighed with relief as she saw her clutch sitting there. Jumping forward, she clicked it open and removed a carefully rolled piece of cloth. Tossing it across the table in front of her, she removed her mask, throwing it onto the chair behind her, and began rolling up her pencil skirt to rest just above her knees.
Once done, she grabbed the fabric in front of her by two thin strips and wrapped it around her waist, tying it there snugly. Running her fingers through her hair, she grabbed one last thing out of her clutch: a stack of cash, and stuck both in the large pockets of her new wrap skirt.
Steeling herself, she whipped open the door and thrust the stack of cash into the chest of a very astonished soldier. Taken completely by surprise, he instinctively gripped the cash pressed against himself as Marinette stole the gun from his holster and swung at the back of his neck.
He went down in an instant. Marinette caught him, helping him crumple gently against the wall. Wasting no time, she climbed the stairs as carefully and as quietly as she could. Opting for the more conspicuous, yet less suspicious exit, she walked through the hallway and into the Lahiffes' living room.
Adjusting her gloves, she made her way through quickly, smiling brightly at various mafiosos traveling to and fro.
"Marinette?" Her blood froze in her veins, but she turned anyway, forcing an aura of nonchalance.
"Nino! How are you this afternoon?" She kissed his cheek in greeting.
"I'm very well," he smiled, tilting his head in curiosity. "But what are you doing here? Are you trying to catch Adrien?"
"Oh, no. Alya is over, and she's in the middle of a big project, you know her. But she forgot a book she's been meaning to return, so she insisted I stop by to grab it." She smiled sweetly.
"Sounds like my Alya," Nino laughed. "But where is the book? Did you find it?"
"I'm afraid not!" Marinette shook her head. "She said she'd put it in her side table for safekeeping, but it wasn't there, and I didn't want to snoop. It's no trouble really, I'm sure I'll get it back sometime."
"If you're sure," Nino said, smiling, eyebrows raised. "Well, it was good to see you, but I'm a little busy at the moment–"
"Yes, what is going on? Everyone seems to be in such a hurry today," Marinette asked, tilting her head and pursing her lips. She was really pushing her luck here, but it wasn't as if she'd never visited the Lahiffes' home. It was unlikely anyone would put the pieces together based on that alone.
"It's quite exciting," Nino said, leaning in conspiratorially. "We've caught Ladybug." He winked. Marinette covered her mouth, blinking in mock surprise.
"No, really?"
"Yes, really," Nino grinned. "I'm sure you'll hear all about it tonight. We're actually waiting for your husband now. He was dealing with some business on the other side of town, but he's rushing here as quickly as possible.
"Very exciting," Marinette's eyes glinted mischievously. "I'll get out of your hair then." She turned toward the front door. "When you get the time, Adrien and I would love to have you and Alya over for a meal. It's been too long."
"Agreed, Mari. I'll see what I can do." He winked and held open the front door for her, and she stepped out and began the quick trek home.
Quickly slipping inside, she ran to the phone and dialed. It rang for only a moment.
"Marinette?" Wang Fu's voice issued from the device.
"Is Alya still there?" Marinette asked, breathlessly, her adrenaline and fear finally catching up with her. She'd kept her cool before, but she was feeling jittery and nervous now.
"Yes, I'll go get her." Marinette waited for what was only a minute, but what felt like an eternity.
"Mari?" She heard Alya through the phone.
"There's no time to explain right now, but I need you to come over immediately," Marinette said, breath caught in her throat.
"I'm on my way," she heard before the line went dead. Hanging up the phone, she ran upstairs two at a time and unzipped her pencil skirt, tossing it into her drawer and adjusting her appearance. She only looked mildly disheveled, which was a miracle. The wrap skirt had been a stroke of genius. What an easy, quick-change disguise. Touching up her lipstick, she left the bedroom, walking across the landing to her craft room.
Removing a crate of magazines and paper, she piled a box of scissors and glue on top of it and descended the stairs. Returning to the living room, she spread out as many magazines as she could fit on the coffee table and began carefully cutting out shapes and gluing them down in artful patterns. Only a few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door and ran to get it.
Alya stood there. Marinette pulled her inside and peeked outside. Seeing no one, and blessedly, no car, she shut it and pushed her friend into the living room. Catching on quickly, Alya shucked her shoes and knelt down, beginning her own collage.
"I was kidnapped by the Agreste family," Marinette confessed, hardly pausing on her project.
"You're lying," Alya hissed, eyes focused on the magazine in front of her.
"I am not," Marinette responded, smoothing out a photo of a gown against her paper. "I don't think the soldiers knew I was Adrien's wife; otherwise, the jig would've been up. But I escaped after reaching your home and ran into Nino, so I had to make up some excuse that you were in the middle of some big project with me, but told me to run over for a book you'd borrowed from me for a while, but I couldn't find it."
"Got it," Alya said, accepting this cover-up. "Why'd they kidnap you?"
"I have no idea. Until Adrien comes home–" she was cut off as she heard the back door slam open and shut. "Oh, bon Dieu..."
Adrien stormed into the room, his face a fury. He stopped cold as he saw Marinette, Alya, and a messy art project scattered across the room.
"Hello, minou," Marinette said uneasily, setting down her scissors.
"Hello, darling," Adrien responded shortly, gripping his fedora in clenched fists. "Alya." He nodded to her. Taking the hint, Alya stood and stepped back into her shoes.
"I'm intruding," she smiled down at Marinette. "We'll continue this later?" She held her collage up, but shot Marinette a knowing glance. Marinette could only nod in response. Standing to kiss her cheek, she led Alya to the front door and bid her a quick goodbye. Shutting the door behind her, she rejoined her husband in the living room, approaching him slowly.
He stood, rooted in the same spot, eyes on the messy coffee table in front of them.
"Sorry about all this," Marinette gestured. "I'll have it cleaned up in no time." She moved forward, intent on clearing it off, but Adrien's hand shot out, gripping her arm. She looked up at him in surprise. He seemed to be in shock. "...Sweetheart?" She asked, hesitantly.
"We caught Ladybug," he said, his voice distant.
"What?" Marinette asked. "What do you mean?” She had to play her cards right. She had to. Her stomach twisted from all the deception.
"I mean, we had her. She was in our headquarters. We were going to interrogate her."
"Whatever for? What has she done?" Marinette's brow furrowed in confusion and concern.
"For whatever she did to Chloe," Adrien said bitterly, finally removing his hand from her arm and walking to the entryway. He hung up his coat and hat, giving Marinette time to process what he had just said.
"What did she do to Chloe?" Her voice rose barely above a whisper.
"She kidnapped her. Or killed her. I don't know for sure," Adrien's voice cracked as he collapsed onto the couch, head in his hands. Marinette blinked in shock but collected herself, sitting beside him and trailing her fingertips down his back.
"How do you know it was her?" she murmured, mind abuzz with all this new information.
"She left a stamp of a ladybug," he gritted out. This only further confused his wife as she mulled all of this information around in her mind. This was bad. Very bad. Someone was framing her, and this business was only getting more dangerous. Swallowing, Marinette pushed down all of the questions she really wanted to ask.
"So this is good news then," she said softly. "You caught her." Adrien just shook his head and groaned angrily.
"She escaped,” he hissed, a fury in his tone. Marinette's fingers stilled, guilt riddling her stomach and chest. This was all getting so complicated. Too complicated. At what point would a confession be too late? Was she watching the moment pass by her? How long would it take these particular wounds to heal?
"Oh," was all she could say.
"Next time, I will handle her myself. I can’t trust anyone else. She's too good," Adrien's voice was pensive, as though thinking aloud to himself. Marinette steeled herself for what she was about to say. Was this a bad idea? She wasn’t sure, but she had to talk him down.
"Have you considered–" Her voice caught in her throat. She swallowed down her fear. "That maybe this is all a mistake?" Adrien stilled, staring at the floor beneath his feet.
"What?" His tone scared her, but she pushed onward.
"How much have really spoken with this woman? Maybe you just need a one-on-one–"
"She kidnapped my consigliere. My childhood friend. Chloe." He stared at her, fire behind his eyes, a spark of distrust there too. Marinette shivered, scooting an inch or two away from him.
"I–I know," she stumbled out. "But maybe there's something you're missing, maybe Chloe–"
"Marinette," Adrien said, standing, creating distance between them, his voice dangerously low. She looked up at him, hands clutched tight in her lap. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but I don't want to hear it." He turned to stalk out of the room, and Marinette's blood boiled.
"Gotten into me lately?" She asked, a touch of anger in her tone. Adrien whipped around, a look in his eyes she had never seen before.
"Yes, you. You've been defending Coccinelle a lot lately. Is there something you're not telling me?" The sound of Adrien's voice, full of whatever this emotion was, struck a chord in Marinette's heart. Her throat closed up as she struggled to find something to defend herself with. "Why are you constantly defending them?"
"I'm not–" Adrien didn't even let her finish.
"One of my closest friends has potentially been murdered, and I have to come home to hear my wife defend the perpetrator!" His voice was rising with every word as Marinette floundered for a response. "I can't believe you! You know nothing about this world, stop pretending like you do!" He was genuinely shouting now, seemingly unaware or at the very least uncaring of the tears gathering in Marinette's eyes. "I can't trust a wife who doesn't trust me."
"I do! I do trust you!" Marinette insisted.
"You have an interesting way of showing it." Adrien's jaw was clenched, and he glared at Marinette with a look of genuine anger.
Marinette was torn between wanting to collapse to her knees and sob, and punch and scream at Adrien for everything he’d put her through lately. Instead, she gritted her teeth and stood, eyeing him so far away, a whole room and a web of lies between them. “How dare you speak to me in this way? Don’t you know how much I worry? Perhaps I’m a little naive, but don’t fault me for hoping for a simpler solution.”
This caused Adrien some pause. She saw it hit him; the effect it had on his proud shoulders.
“There are no simple solutions,” Adrien muttered, his eyes narrowed, not from mistrust this time, but from something a bit more complicated.
“There are always simple solutions,” Marinette’s tone was hard and unforgiving. “I expect you to find them.”
“This is my business, Marinette,” Adrien said, breathing deeply and turning away.
“I’m not talking about cosa nostra, husband dear.” She said the last two words with a touch of sarcasm. He whipped around, but Marinette was ready for his piercing gaze. “I’m leaving for the night. I’ll be back tomorrow. Figure it out, Adrien.”
She turned, walking toward the entryway and reaching for the closet that held her coat, but Adrien got there first, blocking her way. She said nothing, not even bothering to look at him. Sighing with annoyance, she reached for the front door, pulling it open slightly before Adrien’s hand was there, pushing it closed.
Marinette was legitimately frustrated now. What was he playing at? Didn’t he know how much pain he’d caused her? Couldn’t he sense the fear and frustration and stress that took up space in her chest? Did he know about her lies, her deception, how deeply they cut her?
She felt the emotions building up in her chest, the heat riding high in her cheeks, her breaths cutting short. She turned, not wanting him to see, but he reached out for her, his hand gently grasping her arm and turning her toward him. It was only when he wiped the side of her cheek with his thumb that she realized she was crying. He lifted her chin up until she met his eyes.
She was done for as she caught the guilt in his gaze. Guilt that didn’t belong there, not really. How could she possibly expect him to apologize when it was her who ought to be confessing to all her wrongdoings? Her begging for his forgiveness and understanding?
Marinette openly sobbed, covering her face with her hands and shaking. She thought she might collapse, but Adrien pulled her close to his chest, cradling her there. Adrien felt his wife dissolve into hysterics, and as she gasped for breath, something broke inside him.
"Pl–please." She hiccuped, and Adrien felt he had never heard something quite so heartbreaking. “Let me go.”
"Mari..." he said, surprisingly near tears himself. She pushed away from him, still attempting to hide her face.
“Don’t apologize now,” she said quickly. She attempted to wipe away her tears, but they still streamed steadfastly down her face. “Give it time. Tomorrow.” She said, gathering her wits and pushing out the door. Adrien felt like a coward for not calling for her, running after her, prostrating himself on the ground and begging for mercy, but he just stood, rooted, watching her silhouette shrink away in the inky darkness.
He stood there for far too long.
Someone was at the door. Adrien did his best to ignore the incessant knocking as he shifted uncomfortably, blocking the sunlight from his eyes with his arm. He heard the person enter, and only once he heard a disappointed sigh, did he open his eyes, squinting in the sunlight.
Nino snatched the empty whiskey bottle from the floor, his lips pursed and a cold expression on his face.
"You have a problem," he said.
"Tell me about it," Adrien groaned, sitting up, blinking away the gunk in his eyes. Nino glared down at him, fists clenched.
"I don't know what you said or did to Marinette last night, but if it ever happens again, I will drop everything, no matter the hour, and beat you senseless." Adrien wanted to laugh, but realized that what Nino had just said wasn't very funny. He had nothing to defend himself with.
"Please do," he said, finally. At this, Nino's look of fury dropped and was replaced with one of disappointed, fierce concern.
"Why did you accuse her of all that?" Nino sat down next to him. Adrien just shook his head.
"I was already furious that Ladybug somehow managed to slip through our fingers. I'm terrified for Chloe; our last conversation ended in an argument. I'm worried for Marinette's safety too. To think she was there at the same time as Ladybug! She might've gotten hurt," Adrien whispered. "And she just started defending Coccinelle!" Adrien grimaced. "I know that's not an excuse, but I'm under so much pressure right now, Nino." His voice cracked.
"I get that," Nino nodded. "But you can't take that out on her. She is the sweetest, kindest, most empathetic woman I've ever met. You can't fault her for hoping there's an easier, simpler solution."
"I know," Adrien said, closing his eyes. "I know. She's just so naive..."
"I think you'd be surprised," Nino snorted. "I'm still surprised you never offered her a place in the business." Adrien just shook his head at that.
"I didn't want her getting caught up in this life. It's too dangerous. She doesn't want this. I may have blood on my hands, but it's to keep hers clean." Adrien wanted to collapse in on himself with shame. How could he ever make this up to her?
"Agree to disagree," Nino said, simply. He stood, walking toward the door, donning his hat and watching Adrien with a disappointed expression. "I just thought I'd let you know: Marinette and Alya are having a day out, just the two of them. That leaves you the whole day to figure out how to apologize, so it better be good. And if it isn't, you'll be hearing from me." Nino raised an eyebrow at him. Adrien nodded, mutely.
Wasting no more time, Nino left, closing the door behind him. Adrien's hangover left him cloudy and slow to start the day, but after an hour, he got up, collected his items from off the couch, and jumped in the shower to wake himself up.
There was a lot of groveling ahead of him, but he knew he had to make this right. No amount of stress made it okay to snap at Marinette like that. As he stepped out, breathing in the steam around in, a plan started formulating in his mind.
If Chloe had thought she was angry with Adrien before, she didn’t know how to measure the burning fury coursing through her now. She’d chosen to return Sunday, conceding that she was avoiding her responsibilities, but when she’d called Sabrina, she hadn’t expected the news she’d offered.
Ladybug. Kidnapped. In Chloe’s name.
She thought she might explode, and she had half a mind to storm over to Adrien’s house that very second and beat him senseless, but she thought for a moment longer.
No matter what she did, no matter what solutions and guidance she offered, no matter how often she encouraged Adrien to relax and take things a step at a time, he refused it all. He refused her.
And now, he’d broken one of the most foundational laws of omertà all because he couldn’t be bothered to check on her whereabouts. He insisted on jumping to conclusions, and Chloe decided she wanted nothing to do with it.
He was obstinate. Recalcitrant. And worse, he didn’t value her or her work. She used to admire him. Used to love him. But now, she couldn’t stand the man he’d insisted on becoming.
She wouldn’t be offering him solutions anymore. Why bother, when he never used them anyway? It was time for her to leave, content with what she’d achieved so far, and cut her losses.
Besides, she was in high demand these days.
Scribbling a quick note, addressed to the Papillon, Chloe stepped out of her apartment and began her trek to 57 Rue de Bretagne.
Notes:
Figured I'd add in Andre's art, he's a part of the fam too (featuring all the stress the Bourgeois women cause him).
I have a beta reader! Yay! Shout out to my sister. she's a goat and shes not washed
Also, I changed from things in chapters 2, 3, 4, and 5, all very minor, but you can try to find them if you so desireLove yall! Leave a comment!
Chapter Text
Adrien had been surrounded by cosa nostra his entire life. He’d heard and witnessed countless threats and orders from his father, contained within a polished kind of brutality. He’d seen the ruthlessness of mafiosos and watched as families crumbled in his father’s grip. He himself had ordered threats be carried out, murders be arranged, and personally tortured those who dared defy him.
It was part of him. A dark, terrifying presence in his life that loomed above all else. He’d grown used to the violence, been desensitized to it in a way. Not completely, he wasn’t heartless. He wasn’t a masochist or a sadist; he knew the stakes. He knew the cost of mistakes, and he simply couldn’t afford them. He wasn’t without mercy; he liked to think of himself as kind-hearted behind his carefully crafted facade.
But still, the job wasn’t easy. He’d accepted it, been honored to inherit the family from his father despite the circumstances. But it didn’t change the fact that it was a position that put him in a constant state of stress. Scrabbling for power, honoring his father’s legacy, remaining vigilant: it did something to the nerves.
But nothing had made his heart beat quite this hard, put him this on edge, as he waited for his wife to come home.
He’d done everything he could think of. The house was spotless. There was a bouquet of flowers on every flat surface in the room. Adrien wasn’t much of a cook, but he’d done his due diligence and made one of Marinette’s simple favorites, soupe à l’oignon, which sat, warming, on the stove.
He knew in his heart that it wasn’t enough. That no apology could be. He’d thought about buying her something, jewelry, or dresses, but he didn’t want his apology to seem superficial. It was already bordering there, he thought nervously, glancing around the room.
But he had things to say, really heartfelt thoughts, he reassured himself. And she could be angry at him for as long as she desired, he thought emphatically. He wouldn’t fault her that.
He heard the front doorknob turn and his heart jumped to his throat.
Marinette entered, carrying shopping bags in her arms, shutting the door behind her. They gazed at each other for a moment.
“Would you like me to take those upstairs?” Adrien broke the silence, gesturing at her bags. She nodded mutely. He strode over to her and gently took the bags from her arms, hardly touching her before turning and carrying them upstairs to their bedroom, setting them just inside the closet.
Marinette, meanwhile, looked around their home. She had never seen it so clean. There wasn’t so much of a spot of dust on a single picture frame. She stepped forward, further inspecting Adrien’s efforts. She spotted the flowers carefully dotting the room. Her stomach churned as she plucked her gloves from her fingers and placed them in her purse.
It was then that Adrien returned. Sensing her difficulty in speaking, he continued leading.
“Allow me,” he said, moving around her. He helped her remove her coat and hung it carefully in the entryway closet.
Removing her coat revealed a new dress Alya had insisted she buy that day. It wasn’t anything particularly over-the-top but it was a beautiful light pink dotted with the occasional white flower. It fit her like a glove, and it was just so sweet and so very Marinette, she just had to buy it, according to Alya that was.
Adrien drank it in, feeling the tangled emotions in his chest loosen just a bit. He returned to her side. It took him a moment to get the words out.
“Would you like to eat, or would you like to talk first?” He said, restraining himself from wincing. He’d promised himself he’d do this at her pace, and if she wanted to prolong his suffering, that was her prerogative.
Thankfully, Marinette was feeling merciful that evening. How could she not? She thought, not without a hint of bitterness. The hypocrisy of her emotions didn’t escape her.
“Let’s talk,” she said finally, noting Adrien’s shoulders relax, albeit incrementally.
“Okay,” he said softly. He made his way over to the couch and sat, allowing Marinette the decision of how close she wished to be to him. To his surprise and great relief, she sat right next to him, her whole body turned toward him, listening intently. Adrien’s adrenaline spiked yet again. The last time he’d felt this nervous around Marinette was when he had proposed, an event which had been accompanied by completely different emotions. He’d had a speech prepared then too, he realized.
He swallowed, ducking his head for a moment, gathering his wits about him. It was then that Marinette placed her hand on his, which were bunched up in his lap. His gaze shot up to hers. She was smiling softly as she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles.
“I’ve already forgiven you,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “But I do want to hear what you have to say.”
“You–what?” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse.
“I’ve forgiven you, my darling,” Marinette said, her gaze still trained on his. “But I understand you went through great lengths to earn it, so I want to hear what you want to say.”
“I’m… sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His thoughts had been thrown to the wind by just a few words. He didn’t deserve Marinette, he knew that now, though he knew she’d never agree. “I know this isn’t easy for you. Being involved in cosa nostra takes its toll, and more often than not, that toll is with you. I’m rarely home, and when I am, it’s only for a few waking hours. When I get home, I’m stressed out or pissed off, and even when I try not to let that affect my relationship with you, it does.
“I don’t want to imply that I’m incapable of change in that regard, just that it’s not easy, and that I’m trying. But last night, I let my frustration with the business override my care for you, and that’s inexcusable. I should’ve thought beyond myself and recognized you were just trying to help me out of a difficult situation, but instead, I lashed out. You are relentlessly empathetic and hopeful and intelligent, and instead of recognizing what you were offering, I dismissed your contributions and reassurance. And for that, I am sorry.
“I let my fear for Chloe and my anger at Coccinelle affect how I listened to you, and I promise that will never happen again. All of this,” Adrien said, gesturing around them, indicating the clean house, the flowers, the food in the kitchen. “Isn’t meant to be a superficial thing. I want you to know I’m dedicated to you, and I’m dedicated to being more present. This isn’t a one-time event. I want to spoil you and be there for you. I want to make you dinner and do the dishes together afterwards. I want to dance around without our shoes in the living room like we used to.”
“I want that too,” Marinette smiled. Her expression made Adrien want to melt.
“And if there’s anything you want from me, I am willing to do whatever you ask. I know I have many faults, but I want to make you happy above all else.”
At this, Marinette’s hands stilled for a moment, taken off guard. This was the most important part to Adrien. If Marinette wanted him to make specific changes, he would do his absolute best to do them and to do them immediately.
“I–I do have one thing,” Marinette said, hesitantly.
“Anything,” Adrien breathed.
“I want you to stop drinking,” she said, her voice small.
“I dumped out all my whiskey earlier this morning,” Adrien replied softly. Marinette gazed at him, surprised.
“I don’t mean forever necessarily, but for right now–”
“I agree,” Adrien said emphatically. “We can talk about that more when the time comes.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And one other thing.” She swallowed, suddenly nervous.
“Yes?” Adrien said, smiling softly, squeezing her hand. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
“Please promise me,” she paused, her throat catching. “That you’ll try to find a peaceful route with Ladybug.”
Adrien had seen this coming. Even in his hard of heart, he knew it was a reasonable request. Marinette just wanted him to be safe.
“I’ll do my best,” he said gently. Marinette’s shoulders relaxed.
“Thank you.”
“Kagami, I’m glad you’re here,” Adrien spoke, gesturing for her to sit. This was a much more casual kind of meeting. He was following a hunch he’d harbored for a couple of weeks now. Nino sat next to the desk, his posture leisurely. Chat Noir was in his usual place behind the desk.
“A pleasure as always,” Kagami said easily, inclining her head.
“I have grown curious these last few months as to the identities of our fellow families’ dons. We’re close to discovering Ladybug’s. She has caused enough trouble that purposely uncovering this secret is a top priority at the moment, but it has made me think of our friend Papillon.” Chat Noir paused here, thinking carefully through his next words. “Papillon has been very forthcoming in their communications, very helpful in their supply of information, and it has made me consider if this mysterious Papillon is someone already known to the Agreste family.”
Kagami followed his reasoning.
“You wonder if Papillon may be my mother,” she said. A statement, not a question.
“That is correct,” Chat Noir nodded. “The few things I know of Papillon are that they have been involved in cosa nostra for many years, which is true of Tomoe. She was a valuable associate of my father’s during his time. I wonder, because of this vendetta, whether it would be in our interest to perhaps offer our help in finding the person they’re searching for. If Papillon is your mother, it would be a safe offer.
“Papillon has helped us so much, I fear we are falling into their debt. A debt that can be repaid if we offer this aid, but I don’t want to do so until I know more about this vendetta and Papillon’s nature.” He looked to Kagami, whose expression had grown thoughtful.
“I know not if my mother is Papillon. Your line of reasoning is not unfounded, she has been involved in the business as long as your late father, if only from the sidelines. From what I know of her involvement, she has never mentioned a vendetta or even a grudge of any kind. She was more involved in financial bribery and blackmail for your father on the rare occasions he needed her services. That kind of thing was more one-on-one with M. Agreste. I can’t imagine she interacted with other mafiosos often.”
Chat Noir hmmed, thinking deeply. Granted, this entire thing was only a suspicion he’d held since seeing Tomoe at The Lucky Charm. It was a long shot, but what he’d said was true. While Papillon’s assistance had been vital over the last few months, he was concerned about falling into debt with Papillon. He didn’t want them to have any kind of power over him, and helping them with this vendetta might be the simplest solution for that.
Maybe it was what Papillon had been secretly vying for this whole time, but Chat Noir held no resentment for that. It was business, after all.
If Tomoe was Papillon, it would be an easy answer; of course, he would offer their help. If not, the offer could make them more vulnerable than anything. Catching an idea, Chat Noir reached into his desk drawer for a number of letters. He saw Nino’s eyebrow raise out of the corner of his eye.
Nino, unlike Chloe, knew he’d been receiving letters from Papillon, but he hadn’t known to what extent.
Chat laid them out on his desk and gestured for Kagami to come closer.
“These are letters I have received from Papillon. Is there anything here that indicates your mother?”
Kagami stood to inspect the writing on each letter. She picked them up, feeling the paper between her fingers, glancing at all of the letters before speaking.
“This handwriting does not belong to her. The writing doesn’t particularly sound like her either, though it is in code, so that may mean nothing. To me, these letters carry no hint of her.” Kagami set the letter she was holding back on the desk before retreating back to her chair.
Chat Noir was nodding, taking in the information. There went that theory. Granted, he’d been grasping at straws, but it would’ve been a simple solution, and he was truthfully a little disappointed.
“Thank you, Kagami. Your insight has been most useful,” Chat said, gathering up the letters and sliding them back into his desk.
“I’m sorry my answer is not what you hoped,” Kagami replied, standing and bowing incrementally. Chat stood as well, buttoning his suit coat.
“That is no fault of yours.” He smiled warmly and gestured to the door. Kagami left them, shutting the door behind her. Adrien sat again, closing his eyes briefly before looking over to Nino, who looked troubled.
“How many letters have you received from Papillon?” He asked, brow furrowed.
“No more than ten,” Adrien said dismissively. Truthfully, he knew how dangerous these communications were, but Papillon had given him no reason to fear, unlike Coccinelle. The pointers had been vital, and Papillon was making no moves to ask them for favors in return. Chat knew this ought to give him some pause, but he was so focused on Ladybug and her crimes, nothing else much mattered.
“That’s quite a few,” Nino said, tone reproachful.
“I know,” Chat said, trying to infect Nino with his nonchalance. He didn’t want Nino rebuking him for this; there was bigger fish to fry.
“What do they say?” Nino was toeing carefully: That wasn’t lost on Adrien.
“Mostly stuff about Coccinelle’s operations, just advice on where to focus our sight,” Chat replied. “You can look at them, if you want.” He pulled out the letter again, disguising his faint nerves as Nino sifted through them.
He didn’t speak for a long while, eyes trained on the writings before him, pausing occasionally to reread a line before moving on. Eventually, he straightened and looked at Adrien.
“I don’t like this,” he said, finally. Adrien felt the ball of nerves tighten within him.
“What do you mean?” He replied, tone cool. It didn’t perturb Nino.
“I mean, he’s not citing his sources.” He looked at Adrien thoughtfully. “I’m not saying Papillon is taking advantage of us, or deliberately misleading us, or anything like that, but the information he’s supplied us over the last few months isn’t founded in much. He’s directing more than supplying. Best case, he’s offering you his own suspicions and is probably wrong a few times. At worst case, he’s deliberately turning our attention elsewhere.”
Chat Noir remained silent, absorbing this information. Directing more than supplying. That particular sentence gave him some pause. If he considered the implications, he could be in a very bad spot right then. As Nino had said, worst case scenario, Papillon had been deliberately deceiving him and misleading him, or could begin to without much resistance.
But despite it all, Adrien trusted Papillon. Especially considering what Coccinelle had been up to. He couldn’t deny Papillon was carrying more power than he was particularly comfortable with, but the family making the most threats and dealing the most damage was Coccinelle.
“I know,” Adrien sighed, deflating. “I know this could be bad, but Papillon isn’t the one breaking omertà. Papillon isn’t the one who took Chloe.”
“I’m not denying that,” Nino said, holding up a hand. “But while we’re busy handling Coccinelle, we cannot let Papillon take advantage of that and rise above us. They’ve positioned themselves perfectly, you have to admit that.” Adrien nodded, pressing his palms into his eyes. Nino continued. “Papillon is giving all of this information, but what is he doing with it? Nothing. Because he knows you’ll do it for him.”
“You’re right, Nino. You’re right.” He groaned, sinking into his chair. “I can’t get distracted with so many pieces on the board.”
“We’ll handle Ladybug,” Nino promised. “But you can’t just openly trust Papillon’s word. He has every opportunity to mislead us. Why he would, I don’t know, but we can’t deny the possibility.”
“Alright,” Adrien said, sitting up and looking down at the letters littering his desk. “We can’t stop the letters from coming, but I won’t read them without you anymore. I won’t do anything dumb.” Nino’s face broke out into a teasing grin.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Chat Noir thinks we kidnapped or killed Chloe Bourgeois, his consigliere,” Ladybug said. As soon as she possibly could, she called an emergency meeting with Alya and Wang Fu. They sat in the office, as per usual. Unusually, the curtains were drawn tight, the only light coming from the few lamps around the room.
Marinette was nervous, now that they knew the family Agreste knew where they conducted business. She’d taken an alternate route, coming through the back and parking her car elsewhere, dagger drawn as she had crossed through the foliage that outlined the back of Wang’s home.
The information she was sharing absolutely broke her and Alya’s promise to each other, not to share information they heard at home, things that their spouses confided in them. But this was far too important to let go unsaid.
“What?” Rena said, appalled.
“Mlle. Bourgois disappeared Friday evening from her apartment. Chat Noir visited to apologize for an argument they’d had and found her missing and a stamp of a Ladybug on a piece of paper inside.”
“Someone framed us,” Wang said, his expression very troubled.
“Exactly,” Ladybug said, gravely. “But there are too many questions without answers. Who? Why? How?”
“You say it was a stamp of a Ladybug?” Rena asked. Ladybug just nodded in response. “Our note that we left in the deli posta disappeared almost immediately after we put it up. I assumed an informant of the family Agreste took it, but that may not be the case. Anyone could’ve torn off the stamp and ensured that Chat Noir never saw the full note.”
“I believe you’re right,” Wang said, nodding, stroking his beard. “Whoever did this doesn’t want us to have an amicable relationship with the family Agreste. The question is who?”
“The only other mafia family around is Papillon, but why would they do this?” Ladybug asked, concern written on her face, as it had been for the last two and a half years.
“Power,” Rena said simply. “If they get Chat Noir focused on us, spark a war between us, they can sit by and watch as we destroy each other, until they take Agreste’s place.”
The room fell silent as they pondered what this could possibly mean.
“Could this have something to do with you?” Ladybug asked, swivelling to M. Fu. “We know Papillon is after you, but does he know you work for me?”
“I don’t see how he could,” Wang said, puzzled. “But we also didn’t think anyone knew the location of our headquarters.”
Again, a pause. Rena, characteristically, was the one who broke it.
“I don’t think he does,” she said slowly. “Otherwise, why bother with baiting Chat Noir against us? If it’s a true vendetta, he wouldn’t want another family killing his target. I think he just wants us out of the way, and is unaware that Fu is in the crossfire.”
“You may be onto something,” Ladybug said. “But regardless, we need to be careful. Far more careful than we have been.” She took a breath. “We need to change our headquarters. Now that we know Chat Noir knows where we operate, we’ve implicated you.” She gestured to Wang. “And if that gets back to Papillon, who knows what’ll happen. I also can’t afford to get kidnapped again. I got away once, but I don’t think they’ll allow that a second time.”
“But where can we possibly meet? Where is safe and accessible to all of our members?” Rena asked.
Ladybug swallowed, a pit in her stomach.
“The Boulangerie Patisserie,” she said quietly. Rena looked at her, mouth agape.
Marinette’s parents had abandoned the storefront years ago, when Adrien and she had married. Too many legal investigations, too many concerns that they were a front for something far more illicit. No one wanted to buy from a bakery so openly associated with the mafia, so Tom and Sabine had officially retired. They’d entrusted the property to Marinette and left Paris for good. She still spoke with them, of course, they had always been very close, but they were reluctant to visit.
The storefront had been boarded up and left alone. Marinette didn’t have the heart to sell it, but it couldn’t be used for anything else. Even so, desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Adrien doesn’t know I still own it. There’s a back door we can enter and exit from discreetly. We won’t use the bottom floor, there’s an apartment above the store itself, we can use to avoid notice.”
“Marinette…” Alya said softly, reaching for her friend’s hand. “You don’t have to do this.”
Marinette struggled to reply. Was she happy about this? No. Did they have any other options? Not really.
“I kind of do,” she said, a soft, reassuring smile on her face. “The safety of the family Coccinelle falls to me.”
“We could ask Luka and Juleka if they have any unused property at the moment.” Alya was desperate to find another solution.
“We can’t risk anywhere already associated with Coccinelle, if we’re trying to avoid me getting kidnapped,” Marinette said, simply. “My decision is final. We must inform the rest of the family. I trust you to organize the move,” Ladybug said, placing a hand on Rena’s shoulder.
It took her a moment, but she nodded.
“Thank you both,” Ladybug said. “Stay safe. I must be going.”
And with that, Marinette left the room, descending the stairs and retracing her steps out the back door, her heart twisting in her chest.
Chloe sat in the back of a sleek, black car. It had pulled up to her apartment around 9:00 pm, as had been dictated in the response letter from Papillon. She had been shocked to see Gorilla driving the vehicle, but he maintained a straightforward gaze, practically ignoring her.
And now, they were making their way across Paris. Chloe’s heart beat heavily in her throat as she wondered whether or not she had made a rash mistake. But no, she couldn’t be. Not after what Adrien had done.
The real question was whether or not Papillon could be trusted, and what he wanted with her. Why was Nathalie Sancoeur being replaced? What was Papillon playing at, toying with Adrien?
Questions and puzzles swam about in Chloe’s head as they traveled along. Her one reassurance was her own intelligence. If it turned out she’d made a terrible mistake, she trusted her ability to get out of it. She could bide her time; she was practically a professional.
After a few more minutes, Gorilla turned into a secluded driveway, driving slowly forward until a house pulled into view. Away from the road, it was quite inconspicuous. It was a very nice home. Whoever Papillon was, he obviously came from money. As Chloe drank in the details, the car came to a stop, and she watched someone walk up to her door, pulling it open.
Stepping out, Chloe came face-to-face with Mlle. Sancoeur. Hiding her surprise, Chloe stepped back to allow the door to shut.
“Follow me,” Nathalie said, wasting no time. Follow, she did.
As they approached the house, Chloe couldn’t shake a sense of familiarity with the place. She’d never been here before, she was sure of that, but the look of it. The style. It made the back of her brain itch.
Nathalie guided her through a side door and up a couple stairs to a long stretch of hallway. They followed the runner until they reached the end of the hallway. Chloe calmed her nerves as Nathalie knocked on the door.
“Come in,” came the faint response. Nathalie pushed the door open and motioned Chloe inside, before following and shutting the door behind them. Chloe heard her vaguely walk forward and stand beside the desk in front of her, but Chloe only had eyes for the man at the desk.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” she said, throat dry.
“It’s good to see you too, Mlle. Bourgeois,” Gabriel Agreste replied, a faint, unhumorous smile on his lips.
She had made a mistake. A terrible mistake. How could she face Adrien now? She had walked straight into a nest of vipers without a second thought, what had she done?
“I am not dead, as you can see. It was a conclusion I knew my son would draw, and it was a convenient cover, so I made no move to inform him otherwise,” Gabriel said, cold as ever. “But let’s drop the formalities. I have been seeking an underboss for a while now, ever since my dear Emilie passed, and it was obvious who that would be.” He gestured to Nathalie. “But what was less obvious was my replacement consigliere. Your mother recommended you, but of course, I already knew how useful you would be to me. Adrien certainly didn’t utilize your strengths, did he?” Again, that emotion-absent smile.
“I cannot be your consigliere,” Chloe said firmly. “I won’t betray Adrien like that.”
“My dear, you already have,” Gabriel replied. It punched Chloe in the gut. She wanted to double over, she wanted to run, she wanted to scream.
“He is my friend, I can’t do this to him–”
“To what friendship do you refer?” Gabriel interrupted. “The one where he ignored the vital information you provided? The one where he refused to consult you, or include you? The one where he neglected the skills you offered? Doesn’t sound like much of a friendship to me.” He said, looking at her through his raised eyebrows.
“We’re stronger than that,” Chloe said, trying to beat down the rising doubt and resentment in her chest. “I respect you a great deal. You know this. It is on your foundation that we thrive, and I would be a fool not to admit that. But Adrien is like a brother to me, despite our previous disagreements. I am honored to be considered, but I must decline your generous offer.”
“I see,” Gabrien said, his tone devoid of insight into his inner thoughts.
“I am more than willing to be sworn to secrecy,” Chloe reassured him. “I won’t reveal any of your dealings to a living soul–”
“Madamoiselle Bourgois,” Gabriel interrupted yet again, holding up a hand. “You seem to be under the impression you have a choice.”
Chloe’s throat constricted, finding herself unable to breathe.
“When you wrote to me, you made your decision. I am a man who prides himself on his backbone: I don’t go back on my word, and I expect others to do the same. As we speak, your possessions are being moved to another location, your trace erased from your previous apartment. I expect you to be here every day from nine to five and to cut all contact with everyone associated with the current Agreste family business.”
“What makes you think I’m going to cooperate with your demands?” Chloe asked, her fury finally winning out, her tone icy.
“Let me be quite clear, Mlle. Bourgois. I will have you killed, and I will make it look like Ladybug did it.” His tone did not invite compromise. “And if that isn’t enough to deter you from being cooperative and useful to the extent I know you are, I will kill your little girlfriend, Mlle. Raincomprix first, and I will make you watch. Do we understand each other?”
“We do,” Chloe spat out, her tone quite bitter.
“Splendid,” Gabriel replied. “Nathalie will show you out, and Gorilla will drive you to your new apartment. I’m looking forward to working with you.” And with that, she was dismissed.
As instructed, Nathalie escorted her from the house and showed her to the car. Chloe got in, numb to her surroundings. Gorilla started up the car and left the property, driving only around fifteen minutes away. He pulled into a secluded apartment complex, hidden behind many other buildings. Completely cut off from the rest of the world, it seemed.
Gorilla got out and opened the door for Chloe. She stepped out, steadier than she felt. He handed her a key with the number eleven on it before walking around the car, getting in, and driving away, abandoning her in this new place.
She spotted her car in the parking lot, a strange illusion of freedom staring her in the face.
Looking around her, she spotted number eleven quite quickly, on the second floor. She walked up the stairs and down the stretch before stopping. It took her a few tries to get the key in the lock. She had to jiggle it a few times before it finally opened, but she stepped inside and quickly shut the door, surrounding herself with the darkness.
She breathed for a moment, half thoughts drifting, unformed in her mind. After a moment, she felt around on the wall for the light switch.
Light flooded the room, revealing towers of boxes full of her possessions. Her furniture sat, stacked on top of each other, haphazardly outlining the room. Her things lay unorganized in the unfamiliar room. She walked slowly through them, taking note of where items were and taking in the room around her, before she grew overwhelmed and sank to the floor.
Amidst the stacks of boxes around her, she curled into a ball and sobbed, the sight of the familiar among the unfamiliar completely undoing her.
If there was a way out of this, she didn’t know what it was.
Flee the country. Fake her death. The plan sounded disgustingly familiar.
Despite the tangled emotions in her chest, her tears stopped, and she forced herself to sit up. There was only one way to get out of this alive, and that was by cooperating. She could do that. And if she could get Gabriel Agreste to trust her, who knew what she could get away with behind the scenes?
The thought was enough to renew her strength. She stood, looking around at the boxes one more time, before leaving the room, seeking her bed, which she found in another room. She tossed her shoes, unzipped her dress, sliding it off, and collapsed, wrapping herself in the familiar scent, a reassurance amidst the chaos.
Notes:
I have to admit, Chloe keeps surprising me. I didn't plan on her being this important of a character and her motivations are a surprise even to me. Look at girlie go <3
If you want updates to stuff, keep up with me, here's my tumblr yet again: cuppa-book-reviews
Chapter Text
"Look at you, a regular chef," Marinette said, coming up behind Adrien and wrapping her arms around him and going up on tiptoes to peck him on the cheek. He smiled down at her as he cut the strawberries before him.
"Hardly," he chuckled, gathering the sliced fruits and piling them into a bowl. "Yogurt?"
"Yes, please," Marinette replied with a smile, removing herself from around him and grabbing two spoons from the drawer. It was quite early in the morning, at least for their standards. Marinette was still in her nightgown, with a robe thrown over it. Her husband, however, was dressed for work, minus the holster, mask, and suit jacket, which had been laid on the counter. He was away from the house nine to five, usually, though he was coming home earlier and earlier now, in an attempt to make more time for his wife.
Adrien scooped a generous dollop of yogurt into a bowl and sprinkled a handful of strawberries overtop. Knowing his wife's penchant for sweetness, he drizzled a bit of honey over the whole thing before handing the bowl to her and fixing a bowl for himself. They didn't bother with the dinner table, choosing instead to lean against the counters and savor their breakfast side by side.
"Busy day today?" Marinette asked when she'd finished. Adrien, half shook his head and shrugged, mouth full. He finished off his bowl quickly.
"Shouldn't be," he replied thickly. "We'll see, I've got an errand to run that may turn into something more..." He trailed off, frowning.
"It's alright if you're home a little later. You've been lucky the last few days, coming home early." She smiled and reached up, adjusting his tie and collar, which had gone a little crooked. He watched her, amusedly.
"I'll do my best. It's not like I prefer that to you." He leaned down and closed the gap between their lips. They hung there for a moment before he pulled away. "But, the sooner I go, the sooner I'll be back." He reached around her and grabbed his suit jacket from off the counter, pulling it over his shoulders and moving toward the front door.
"I'll be waiting." Marinette watched him, leaning against the kitchen doorway, a soft smile on her lips. He shot her a wink, reaching for the doorknob. "One more kiss before you go!" She ran to him.
Adrien was all too happy to comply.
He was grinning to himself as he jumped into his car, his lips tingling. Driving away, he saw Marinette waving from the doorway of their home. His heart fluttered. It felt like he was falling in love all over again.
As he turned the corner, his mind reluctantly turned to the task at hand. He wasn't heading straight to the Lahiffe household; he had another mission in mind. He was headed to Chloe's apartment yet again.
He was sure he'd missed something, or maybe there was something else afoot. He had meant it when he'd promised Marinette he would try to find a peaceful route with Ladybug, and maybe, just maybe, there had been some kind of misunderstanding. He could hope.
So he drove the twenty minutes across Paris and parked just across the street. Pushing down the funny feeling in his stomach, he climbed the stairs to 202 and only faltered for a moment, staring at its face. He tried the doorknob only to find it locked. Puzzled, he knocked. As he expected, nothing came of it.
Glancing around in the stairwell, he pulled out his wallet and extracted a lockpick and tension tool. Fumbling for a moment, he inserted them into the lock. He hadn't practiced in a while, so it took him a minute or so, but eventually, he heard a distinct click as the door popped unlocked. He quickly pushed through the open door and snuck inside, shutting it behind him.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and when they did, it took him a moment to realize it, because the apartment had completely changed.
He panicked for a moment, thinking he'd broken into the wrong apartment, but he knew he hadn't.
The room was completely bare. He could barely register it in his mind. The couch, the rug, the table, the paintings, the lamp, even her curtains; gone. He stood frozen, taking it all in, mind whirring but finding no grip.
After a moment, he took a step and found himself in her room, or what used to be her room, for there was nothing here either. Just marks in the carpet where once stood a bed, an armoire, a desk.
He stumbled out, head on a swivel, searching for any remnants of what had once been Chloe's apartment, but finding none.
One thought found him: This was certainly strange, but not necessarily bad. It depended on who had done this. Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, he took one last sweeping look of the apartment before slipping out and descending the stairs.
Back in the lot, he spun around, searching, before finding what he was looking for: the leasing office.
He pulled open the door to find an older woman sitting at the front desk.
"Hello, madame." Adrien greeted her with as much charm as he could muster, but it didn't stop the look of momentary fear flickering across the woman's face. "I wanted to inquire about a friend of mine, Chloe Bourgeois? She resides in apartment 202. I just wanted to ask if she still lives there, or if she's moved out."
To her credit, the woman did not hesitate in her response.
"I'm afraid I cannot share personal information about our current or past residents, regardless of who asks." She adjusted her glasses with only a hint of nerves. Adrien smiled, leaning against the desk.
"That is entirely fair," he said, his voice lowering. "I was hoping you might make a small exception. I promise, Chloe is a close friend, I mean her no harm. I just want to know if you've evicted her." The woman raised an eyebrow, lips pursed, content in remaining silent. "If you refuse to answer, I have other ways of making you talk." His voice had reached a dangerous tone now. Normally, he wouldn't threaten anyone who wasn't already under his control, but his protectiveness for Chloe was skewing his personal standards. "A yes or no will do."
The woman hesitated, swallowing shallowly, and bringing her hand up to her necklace, nervously fiddling with it. Adrien tilted his head, watchful of her behavior. He was coy and predatory, and he was purposely turning up the heat. He just wanted an answer. He paused, an act imbued with drama as his eyes swivelled over to the picture frame that rested on the far end of the desk. A photo of a beautiful family; hers. She paled as his gaze slowly returned to her.
"No." She broke, tearing her eyes from his, shaking slightly. He straightened and adjusted his suit cuff.
"No...?"
"We haven't evicted her. And to our knowledge, she hasn't moved out," she said hurriedly.
"See? That wasn't so hard," he purred. "Thank you for your cooperation." And with that, he pushed through the door and left, getting back into his car and driving off before she could call the authorities.
He stared blankly at the road ahead of him as he made his way back across the city to headquarters. He couldn't be positive what exactly this meant, but there were a few options, and all of them pointed to Chloe being alive.
Maybe the stamp of the ladybug was a threat of some kind, so she had decided to go into hiding, though he would've expected her to let him know. There was still the possibility of kidnapping, and Coccinelle just cleaned up her apartment to... do what exactly? Throw him off their trail? Perhaps she'd turned rat, and the police were protecting her, hiding her from the mafia world. But that still left the ladybug stamp.
He couldn't shake the feeling that Coccinelle was involved; it just made the most sense, but putting all the pieces of the puzzle together, he wasn't worried for her safety anymore. There had been no sign of a struggle at the apartment when he'd first seen it, and the stamp had been torn from a larger sheet of paper, meaning... something. The clean apartment was perhaps a sign of her cooperation. Or that she had defected, and Coccinelle was protecting her?
He couldn't keep theorizing like this; he'd just run himself crazy. He needed to talk to Nino, and quickly. He tightened his grip on the wheel.
Ten minutes later, he burst through the front door and headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Nino was in the library, waiting for him.
"What'd you find?" He asked, without so much as a hello. Adrien sank into Chloe's usual seat. He found it much more comfortable than his own.
"The apartment's clean," he said. "No furniture, no nothing. I talked to the woman in the leasing office, and she confirmed they haven't evicted her and she hadn't informed them she'd be moving out."
Nino's brow furrowed in confusion, mouth ajar in thought.
"What on earth does that mean?"
"No idea," Adrien admitted. "But I do think this means she's alive." Nino nodded, slowly, processing.
"You're right. If they killed her, why bother?"
"Exactly," Adrien jabbed a finger at him, leaning forward. "But everything else is way more complicated now. If she's been kidnapped, why would they remove all her stuff?"
"She's cooperating with them?" Nino mused, rubbing his temple.
"I was thinking that, but cooperating with them on what? What could they possibly want from her that they couldn't get another way?"
They sat in silence for a minute or two, the only sound coming from the quiet clock on the wall. Nino spoke up.
"Are we sure it's Coccinelle that's done this?"
"It's gotta be," Adrien said. He'd given it a great deal of thought. "Why else would Ladybug escape from us so quickly? Surely her identity isn't that important; it's more of a personal preference. Plus, who else would've left the stamp of a ladybug? Why?"
Nino hmmed, deep in thought. Adrien leaned back, resting his head and gazing at the ceiling.
"It could just be for information," Nino suggested.
"True, but there are a lot of ways to get that besides kidnapping someone," Adrien replied. "The reason why doesn't matter." He'd made up his mind now. He sat up, looking across to Nino. "Coccinelle kidnapped Chloe, and I don't care about their motive. We need to fix this, and there's only one thing we can do to get her back. I'm done playing games."
He stood, buttoning his suit jacket and gesturing for Nino to follow him. He headed downstairs and weaved around his fellow mafiosos, heading for the hallway and descending into the basement, Nino close behind.
He didn't hesitate as he turned, heading toward a door at the far end of the room. He knocked before opening the door.
"Max Kanté," he said, looking down at the man reclined at one of the desks, though he was the only one present. He stood as Chat Noir approached him.
"Boss," he said, nodding to him and Nino.
"Are Marc Anciel and Nathaniel Kurtzberg around?"
Max did not reply; instead, reaching for the phone on the wall. Removing the receiver, he pressed and held a button on the wall next to the box.
"Are Marc and Nath there? Send them down." He replaced the receiver and turned back to Chat. "What is this about?"
"We'll wait for them to get here," he replied simply.
"If they're in trouble for what happened with Ladybug, I take full responsibility," Max insisted, his voice strong. Chat raised a hand.
"They're not in trouble."
It was then that a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Max called. In walked soldiers Nathaniel and Marc. They both bowed slightly upon seeing their company.
"Monsieurs, join us," Chat gestured. "I have a special mission for you both." They stood in a rough circle in the center of the room. A tension hung among them. "I need you to kidnap Ladybug again."
"We would be honored to do this for you," Marc spoke. "But we don't know where she is."
"What do you mean?" It was Max who asked.
"She's disappeared," Nathaniel replied. "We believe the Coccinelle family has moved locations. We've noticed a lack of activity around their headquarters recently."
"How recently?" Nino asked.
"Within the last week. It was a few days after she escaped."
"This is quite... incriminating," Chat said, shooting Nino a look. "Well, then. I'm giving you two missions: Find their new headquarters, and kidnap Ladybug."
"Chat Noir," Max spoke up. "You know I have much respect for you." He was careful about his words. "But I’m concerned about the potential consequences of an action so drastic. This is the kind of thing that could start a war." Chat nodded pensively in agreement.
"I hope it doesn't come to that," he said, resting a hand on Max's shoulder. "But Ladybug has taken a step too far. We're not going to hurt her. We just need leverage." He looked around the group and sighed, ducking his head. "I know I'm putting you all in a dangerous position, but when you swore the oath, you pledged your loyalty to me, and I pledged to protect you in return. I trust you all, I just need you to trust me. Can you do that?" They all nodded. "Thank you. I expect regular updates. Nino?" Chat twitched his head toward the door, and they both left, leaving the trio to strategize.
They returned to the library and collapsed on their respective chairs.
"We're really not going to hurt her?" Nino asked, eyebrow raised, his face grim.
"Not if she cooperates," Adrien said darkly.
In all fairness, it was actually quite pleasant working for Gabriel Agreste, a fact Chloe wasn't particularly thrilled with. He was polite, cordial, intelligent, and he actually cared about her thoughts, her analyses. Despite the blackmail, he'd been quite transparent with her. He'd practically allowed her to interrogate him the day after their first meeting and had taken it with grace.
She'd known him a long time, of course. Their families had been quite close growing up, but his memory of her continued to surprise him. Altogether, since their initial meeting, everything had been almost idyllic. Chloe had to fight herself to remember she was just biding her time until she could escape his clutches.
It was quite simple: Nathalie hadn't lied during the meeting of the heads, Gabriel did have a vendetta. The mystery of who it concerned no longer remained. He was seeking a man named Wang Fu. The previous Capo di Capi, he'd disappeared after the scandalous events of almost three years ago. Gabriel was convinced he'd had a hand in Emilie's murder, as only the Capo di Capi had the authority to approve assassinations of the top members of families.
Since that time, the Capo di Capi had not been replaced: Gabriel had ensured it. But no one knew where Fu had disappeared to. He was untraceable. Until now.
"Félix Fathom has just gotten back to me, and one of his informants has found some new information," Chloe said, pushing open the door and shutting it behind her. Gabriel looked up, expectantly. She handed a small stack of paper to him and stood there as he leafed through it. They were riddled with notes and other tidbits of information. Many were printed, showing records of payments, blacked-out lines, numbers, and bank information. "As you know, we have several informants across multiple banks in Paris who've been searching for any connection to M. Fu. One of our associates at Société Générale has found these records, which follow a man who moved to Paris almost three years ago, who paid off a house extremely quickly, and used several different banks listed under several different names to make these payments, including M. Chan, M. Turtle, and M. Wong."
Gabriel's eyebrows raised slowly as he spread the papers out and checked them against Chloe's word. She continued speaking.
"The only piece of information that's missing is the address of the home. It seems to have been completely scratched from all records the bank has. Our informant is continuing the search, but he is not very optimistic."
"That is alright," Gabriel said, speaking finally. "This means he's in Paris. I was beginning to worry he may have fled the country completely. This is good news." He smiled at Chloe, a bit warmer than usual. "Report back to Felix. Tell him I want all our informants looking into these aliases, especially the secondary banks they're associated with. I'm sure there's more we can uncover there."
"I'll let him know." Chloe inclined her head stiffly.
"Do you need these back, or may I add them to my personal files?" Gabriel asked, gathering the stack of records.
"I've made three sets, one for you, one for our general records, and one for Felix," she said, waving her hand. Gabriel looked impressed.
"Good work." Chloe had to force herself to mentally reject the compliment.
"Is there anything else you need?" She asked, wishing desperately to leave so she could despise him in private.
"Nothing from you, but you reminded me. I have something for you." He leaned to the side and opened a desk drawer, and extracted a small rectangular piece of paper, holding it out to her. She stepped forward and took it from his grasp. It was a check. She blinked rapidly, seeing the number written there.
"You're paying me?" She asked, failing to hide the surprise from her voice.
"Of course," Gabriel said, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm not a monster."
"This is qu–quite a bit," she stumbled over her words, still shocked. Gabriel chuckled tepidly.
"I may have given the Agreste family business over to Adrien, but I didn't concede all my resources." His short smile bothered Chloe, not because it wasn't genuine, but because it was. Like he was letting her in on a little secret. Like he trusted her implicitly. It fed her ego a bit more than she wanted to admit. But wasn't this what she had been craving for so long? Just any kind of recognition? Any kind of praise or approval for her hard work? She swallowed uncomfortably.
"Thank you," she said, only slightly breathless. Again, Gabriel waved a dismissive hand.
"I also wanted to ask, how is your apartment? I know it's a bit secluded, but I hope it's to your standards." He spoke with concern and interest. She was having the hardest time differentiating manipulation from care; they both seemed to come so naturally to him. Despite her mistrust, she couldn't help but believe him.
"It is," she reassured him. Reassured him? What was she playing at?
"Good. I'm glad to hear it," he nodded. "You're dismissed." She bowed before hurrying out the door and leaning against the wall, breathing deeply. Her insides felt twisted and rotten. He was so flattering, and Chloe was aware of her own vulnerabilities: she had an ego that desperately needed feeding. She'd been starved of it with Adrien, and Gabriel was so willing to give it to her. He wasn't exactly warm, far from it, but he certainly didn't restrain himself from showing approval.
It contradicted everything she wanted to feel, but she couldn't deny what Gabriel was doing for her. She glanced down at the check in her hand. It was about three times what she earned with Adrien. Not that she'd ever been in it for the money, but the number of zeros she was looking at was doing something quite strange to her heartbeat.
"Good afternoon," a voice came from her right. Chloe straightened hastily, coming face to face with Nathalie.
"Good afternoon," she nodded back.
"Are you alright?" The woman asked, glasses flashing in the lamplight.
"Yes," Chloe said, slowly. "Just a lot on my mind." It was easier to distrust Nathalie. She was colder, more reliable than Gabriel in that way. She pursed her lips and nodded before moving around her and entering Gabriel's office. Chloe sighed with relief before pushing away from the wall and ascending the stairs to her personal office.
She closed the door, tossed the check onto her desk, and collapsed into her chair, gazing out the window, deep in thought.
Marinette steeled herself as she stood just outside the side door to the Boulangerie Patisserie. It had been three years, maybe more, since she'd set foot inside. Taking a breath, she twisted the doorknob, stepped inside, and hurriedly shut the door behind her.
As she had asked, Alya had been overseeing the move from Wang Fu's home to the apartment above the once-bakery. The bottom floor had barely been touched. Marinette dawdled for a moment, gazing at the dusty shop shelves, the counters, the numerous ovens and other equipment. Many memories were stored in this room. She found herself a bit bitter about the way things had worked out for her parents. They'd had such a good life here. Granted, they were in their fifties now, and they had made more than enough to retire, but they shouldn't have been forced into it.
Marinette knew Adrien had never meant for it to happen. He'd done everything he possibly could to keep their reputation clean, but it hadn't been enough. He'd apologized profusely, and the Dupain-Chengs had never blamed him, not really, but it certainly hadn't been an easy transition for them.
She remembered, at age eighteen, informing them in this very room that she'd become involved with the son of Gabriel Agreste and their resulting concern. They knew they'd gone to school together, and Marinette had always harbored feelings, but it wasn't exactly easy to accept that their daughter was dating the son of a mafia boss.
They'd been worried for her safety, for Adrien's safety. He hadn't been nearly as involved in cosa nostra back then. But in the end, they trusted their daughter. And it certainly didn't hurt that he was extremely charming.
They'd dated for three years, until right before her twenty-second birthday, Adrien had proposed. She'd felt so young then. They were only married for a year before Emilie died, and Adrien was handed the entirety of the Agreste Family business. And here they were, two and a half, nearly three years later.
It was unfortunate timing that at the same time Marinette's parents left Paris, Adrien's family had fallen to pieces. It left just the two of them, figuring things out alone. And that's when Fu had visited, offering something Marinette never thought she wanted, until her husband had inherited an empire and chosen to keep her from it. It hadn't felt like a together kind of decision, so she decided to make one of her own. Perhaps a bit petty, but it was something that kept her feeling alive.
And she would tell Adrien eventually. She just wasn't sure when eventually was.
Blinking away her thoughts and memories, Marinette moved beyond the bakery to the stairwell and began to climb. The second floor had originally been her parents' room, but had now been converted into offices for her caporegimes, a place for them to coordinate and plan with their crews. She glanced in here to see Ivan, Juleka, and Luka bowed over a large diagram, discussing the security of their new headquarters.
She continued her climb to the third floor and entered quietly. What had once been her living room and kitchen was now Fu's office. She could see his touch: Bonsais, bamboo, tea sets, traditional rugs, and a light-colored desk at the far end. She moved forward to an all-too familiar set of stairs.
She ascended these and pushed open the hatch to enter her previous bedroom, now office. The walls had remained the previous dusty pink, but everything else had changed. The loft that had once housed her childhood bed was now furnished with a simple desk, chair, and corkboard. Her personal office area. Beneath that, several bookshelves and a filing cabinet filled the space next to the windows. In the rounded part of the room lay a simple rug with four cushy armchairs forming a circle around a squat coffee table.
Alya and Fu were already here, looking at papers spread out on the table. They looked up as she entered.
"Well done, Rena," Ladybug said with an approving nod.
"Thank you," she responded, a faint smile on her lips. "It helped that I was already quite familiar with the space." She shot her a wink that forced a genuine smile out of Marinette.
"I bet," she said, feeling a little more at ease. It was strange being back, but also now that she was here, that she'd taken it all in, it was a little reassuring at the same time. "What're you both looking at?"
"We're discussing Juleka and Luka's plan for the upcoming floating casino," Wang supplied.
"They've found an abandoned underground metro station that Juleka says has fantastic ambiance," Rena said with enthusiasm.
"Ooh, exciting," Ladybug smiled, flopping down into one of the armchairs. "Is that the second one this month?"
"Third," Rena said with a grin. "Their low-stakes nights are going so well, the demand is amping up, and people like having more game options anyway, so they're aiming to increase the interest around the high-stakes nights. Not that they need to. People just like the idea of a secretive, exclusive, always-changing, high-stakes casino. It's not a mystery as to why."
"How's the sports betting going?" Ladybug asked, leaning forward and flipping a page of stats and figures toward her, studying it pensively.
"Well enough," Fu spoke up. "Horse-racing season is slowing down, but football is just about to start, and people are clamoring to spend their money on it."
"Good to hear," Ladybug said, impressed. "I'm glad to see they're having so much success." They sat in amiable silence for a bit, reading the reports and comparing numbers. But Ladybug had something else on her mind.
"I've been meaning to speak to you both about Mlle. Bourgeois," she said abruptly. The two paused to look at her.
"As have I," Wang admitted.
"What do you wish to discuss?" Ladybug asked, turning her attention. Wang took a moment, thinking deeply.
"We need to find her."
"I was going to say the same," Ladybug responded, eyebrows raised. "What are your thoughts on the matter?"
"If Papillon is the one who took her and framed us, I fear there is nothing else we can do to convince Chat Noir to trust us," Wang said.
"I agree." Ladybug nodded gravely. "But we have to be ready for every possibility. She may have chosen to defect to Papillon."
"That is true," Wang conceded. "But if we discover that, Chat Noir would still want to know."
"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Rena said, speaking up. The pair turned to her. "What if we figure all this out, and present it to Chat Noir, and he accuses us of orchestrating the whole thing and blackmailing Mlle. Bourgeois into silence or something?" Ladybug pursed her lips.
"It's not outside the realm of possibility," she admitted. "But I'd like something a little more substantial than a pointed finger. And Chat Noir isn't unintelligent. He may distrust us, but we have to hope that the truth will speak for itself."
Rena didn't look completely satisfied with this answer, but she nodded, reluctantly.
"I suppose that's the best we've got," she said, frowning.
"We don't need to launch a full-scale investigation," Ladybug mused, tapping her finger against her lip. "But I think we should delegate a capo and crew to be on the lookout and follow any leads they can. If we feel the need to amp up our search, we can, but something at the ground level at least should work for now. What do you think?" She asked, looking between the two.
"I think it's a good first step," Wang nodded.
"As do I," Alya said.
"Wonderful. I was thinking Ivan's crew, are we agreed?" The other two nodded. "I'll go inform him. I have to be going anyway, unless there is something more to discuss?" It was then that Alya shot her a look. Cocking her head curiously, Marinette gestured for her to follow as she stood to go.
All three descended the steps from Ladybug's office, but only Rena followed Ladybug out. As the door closed, Marinette raised an eyebrow at her.
"Marinette, I'm not sure we can keep this up," Alya said, her voice a whisper.
"I'm not sure I follow..." Marinette responded, hoping against all odds that Alya wasn't going to bring up what she thought she might.
"We're getting far too involved with the Agreste Family, and I fear for what may happen when our husbands find out before we tell them," she hissed, eyebrow raised. "I know you feel like now isn't the time, but you were kidnapped. What happens if they unmask us before we choose to explain?"
"That isn't going to happen–"
"But what if it does?" Alya asked, voice low. "We've had several close calls already. It wasn't like this in the beginning, but now with Papillon attacking us from every angle, we have nowhere to go. Have you considered that the solution to the Chloe problem is just confessing?"
"I have," Marinette sighed, her chest heavy. "But I trust Fu. If he says now isn't the time, it isn't. He's been in this far longer than you and me." She reminded her, giving Alya a look.
"But he's never been in our position before. No one has," Alya said, a hint of exasperation in her tone. "I just don't see this ending well. Look, I trust you. But my relationship is at stake too, and if Nino finds out before I get to tell him, you can trust I'm going to throw you under the bus for it."
"As you should," Marinette said with a small, amused smile. "I can't promise much, but I can promise that I'll do everything I possibly can to give you that chance. And if that's not what happens, I'll take the fall."
Alya didn't speak for a moment, just watching her friend with crossed arms and narrowed eyes, before taking a deep breath and nodding.
"I wouldn't have accepted this position if I didn't trust you. And I knew the risks. You don't need to defend my choices to Nino, I can do that myself, but I will appreciate your support."
"I know. That's why I made you my underboss: You're relentless ," Marinette joked, with a smile. Alya smiled back.
"Let's go talk to Ivan," she said, pulling Marinette along.
"Princess?" Adrien called, closing the front door behind him. "I'm home."
"I missed you," Marinette ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He smiled and kissed her, pulling her against him. She raised a hand to the back of his neck and gently scratched there, simultaneously taking the time to bite his lower lip. He groaned, breathlessly against her, before pulling away.
"Now, now, don't start something you're not going to finish." He grinned in a feline way, his eyes glinting, amused. Marinette just simpered, pushing away from him.
"Who said I wasn't going to finish?" She said with a wink, flouncing back to the living room. Adrien blinked, taken aback.
"Wha–? Wait! Get back here," he said with a playful growl, tossing his things to the floor and dashing after her. He heard her shriek and giggle as he gave chase before he caught her wrist and pulled her back to his chest, planting another deep kiss on her lips. It was her turn to melt, but she, too, pulled away after a moment.
"Did you want something?" She asked, her tone playfully innocent.
"Did you ?" He returned, eyebrow raised. Their noses remained inches apart.
"Maybe," she said, biting her lip to keep her smile at bay.
"That's not the answer I'm looking for," he said, leaning down to kiss her collarbone. He felt her stiffen and grip his shoulders tighter, her breath catching.
"—It's not?" she asked, sighing as his ministrations pulled upward to the side of her neck.
"Nope," he said lightly. "I'm looking for something a bit more enthusiastic ." She jumped as he bit there, softly.
"I see," she whispered, putting a hand on his cheek and pulling him upward. They made eye contact, and Adrien was very pleased to see her pupils blown wide. "In that case, I do want something." She bit her lip as she said it, gazing up at him through her eyelashes. She knew what she was doing to him. It was almost torture.
"Oh?" he asked, voice low. She leaned in close and breathed lightly against his ear. A shiver ran down his spine as she clutched him closer.
" You ," she whispered there.
"We seem to be of the same mind then," he replied with a grin. Without a moment's pause, he picked her up bridal style and headed for the stairs, her shriek and subsequent laughter fuelling the steady flame in his chest.
Notes:
love yall
stay sexy
Chapter Text
Chloe sped down the stairs and through the hall, a stack of papers clutched to her chest. She stopped just outside of Gabriel's office, pausing to catch her breath before knocking quickly.
"Come in." The usual tone. She gripped the knob and pushed through, her nerves tingling and excitement running high. But she didn't let it show, ever the professional.
"I have news," Chloe said, a little breathless despite her best efforts. Gabriel just raised an eyebrow.
"Good, I hope?"
"Mildly." Without further pretense, she plopped the papers onto his desk. He gazed down at them, fingers steepled, eyes darting across the page, drinking it in.
"Three addresses," he said, finally.
"Three addresses," Chloe nodded. The silence stretched as Gabriel's sight remained on the stack of papers. He barely moved. "Now, we can't know for sure if any of these are his. They could be decoys just like his aliases, but it's something."
"It's something," Gabriel nodded, finally looking up at her. His expression was not as impressed as she'd hoped. She'd followed every possible lead, every trail, every tiny scrap of possibility to get this information. Felix's crew had been working overtime to uncover this, and this morning they'd finally found the last piece of the puzzle. And now they had three addresses. All somehow, inexplicably tied to the very person Papillon had been searching for in these last three years.
And he didn't look as pleased as she felt. She felt her chest deflate, but tried to brush it aside.
"Felix's crew followed through on investigating the secondary accounts the first three were connected to, and found several inconsistencies, which they investigated further, and came across these addresses. The third was particularly difficult, as it was connected through Hong Kong and their security system–"
"I don't need to know the finer details, Mlle. Bourgeois." Papillon interrupted, tone clipped. Chloe bit her tongue. He sighed, flipping through her report with languor and disinterest. She tried not to let it bother her. "My concern is that these may be planted addresses." He said finally, dropping the pages back down and looking back to her. She straightened. "They're all different. Have you looked into these yet? Verified they've been owned for three years or less and paid off completely?"
"Not yet–" He didn't allow her to finish.
"Do so, please. In the meantime, I have a few questions for you," he pursed his lips. Chloe nodded, attempting to appear casual. She was deeply wounded by his disappointment, but it was the kind of thing that spurred her to be better. Upon further reflection, he was right. Why inconvenience him with several more loose ends she hadn't bothered to investigate? She would be better, if not to prove herself, then to avoid hearing the disappointment in his voice ever again. She nodded, waiting as his interest turned fully to her.
"How did Chat Noir manage the kidnap of Ladybug?" Chloe saw his eyes focus with interest. "I understand you were not consulted on the idea, and that you were absent from Paris at the time, but I'm curious about what insight you may have."
Chloe immediately began racking her brain for everything she knew, everything she had learned from Sabrina. Sabrina. She missed her. Refusing to acknowledge the quickly awakening memories, she shoved them aside and returned her focus to Papillon, who was waiting patiently.
"From what I understand, Chat Noir had two soldiers stationed outside their headquarters for several weeks. How they found the address to their headquarters, I am unsure, but when Chat ordered her kidnap, it was just a matter of waiting and grabbing her on her way home. They put her in the basement in one of their interrogation rooms, but she somehow escaped."
"You don't know how they found her originally?" Papillon asked, eyes narrowed. Chloe swallowed, her throat unusually dry.
"I do not. I know when Chat Noir initially found out that they had been tracking her, he ordered them to stop. But when he mistakenly assumed I had been..." she hesitated on her choice of word. "taken, he ordered her capture and used the original two soldiers to initiate it."
"Which soldiers were these?" Papillon asked, his eyes boring into her skull. Again, she hesitated. "Chloe. You work for me now. Who were these soldiers? What were their names?" His tone was patient, but his demeanor was anything but. The names stuck in her throat.
"Why do you need them?" She asked lightly. She felt her fingers jittering, so she pulled her hands behind her, away from view.
"I'm just curious about their methods." Papillon smiled, but it wasn't reassuring in the slightest. "Mlle. Bourgeois, I'm not after them. I don't hurt people unnecessarily, you know this." Reading between the lines, Chloe saw the threat against her. And it pained her to give in, but as she studied his expression, not out of interest, but of desperation, she was reminded of Sabrina for the second time that day.
"Marc Anciel and Nathaniel Kurtsberg," she responded, hoarsely. Papillon nodded, satiated for the moment.
"That wasn't too hard, was it?" Chloe couldn't bring herself to respond. She felt as though she were floating, her soul away from her body as her mind ran mental marathons, calculating the potential consequence of what she had just done. "You're dismissed, Mlle. Bourgeois. Oh, and please find Mlle. Rossi and tell her I'd like to see her. That is all."
She left the room, her mind no less cloudy than before. She wandered the halls, stumbling her way downstairs to the caporegimes' offices. She knocked on what she hoped was the correct door. Lila opened it immediately.
"Chloe! What a pleasant surprise! The Boss request me?" she smiled, delightedly. Chloe could only bring herself to nod. "I'll be right there. Thanks for coming to get me." Chloe just nodded again as Lila brushed past her. Chloe retraced her steps, ascending the stairs from the basement and the ones that led back to her office.
To her surprise, Felix stood there, waiting silently outside her door.
"Hello Felix," Chloe said, tiredly, her mind still swimming.
"Are you alright?" Felix asked. It was hard to tell what Felix was thinking. Unusually stolid, Chloe couldn't quite measure his sincerity.
"Not at all," she said briskly. "What is it you need?"
"I take it Papillon didn't take the news as you hoped," he said, expression blank. Despite it all, Chloe was being pulled from her mental fog as she rolled her eyes at Felix's statement.
"Of course not. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up," she said, walking around him and entering her office. Felix hung awkwardly outside the door frame.
"If it's worth anything, I think you've done some pretty impressive work since you got here. Even Nathalie couldn't find what you've uncovered in just two weeks." Chloe straightened, studying him. He studied her right back.
"Thanks, Felix," she said finally. She returned to her desk, looking for something to do, something to make it appear as though she were occupied as she continued to field the unwelcome memories in her head.
"You should take the rest of the day off. He wouldn't notice," Felix said. Chloe laughed bitterly.
"Somehow, I doubt that." She was really struggling now, a ball of emotion swelling at the base of her throat.
"I'll cover for you," he said, simply. Her eyes jumped to his in shock. "I assume Papillon wants me and my crew to investigate those addresses? I'll say you came with."
"Really?" Chloe croaked. Felix just nodded. Could that really work? Part of her was tempted to send Felix away and break down privately in her office; it had been a while. She'd been feeling the buildup for weeks. And really, how comforting was the new place she was living in anyway? She'd unpacked her belongings, but it wasn't home. Even so, as Felix held her gaze, something in her, a private part of her that held her personal pride, bowed. "Okay. Okay." She blinked rapidly, spinning around her office, searching for her belongings. She grabbed her purse. "Walk me out?"
"Of course."
They walked out the back door together, Felix guiding her to her car. She got in, still a little dazed. Feliz held the door open and ducked down to speak quietly to her.
"Don't let him get to you. Adrien may have neglected you, but Papillon wants to run you dry, no matter the cost. You're useful to him until you're not, so he'll play into your every insecurity to get what he can." He watched her as she began to dissolve. "You're a people-pleaser, and he knows that. You need to protect yourself."
"How do I do that?" Chloe's voice, barely above a whisper.
"Look at the people who've lasted the longest." He looked at her, his face still impassive, but an eyebrow raised, and for a split second, it was like Chloe could read his mind. Nathalie.
"Thanks, Felix." She said it sincerely. He nodded and straightened up, hand still on the top of her car.
"Go home," he said, shutting her car door. And she did. She watched Felix's shrinking figure as he stood there, his hands in his pockets. As she pulled out of the discreet driveway, stopping only to nod to the posted guard, she pulled herself from her mental stupor and took a breath. Felix was right. She'd forgotten who Papillon really was, and she wasn't about to forget it again.
"You called for me, Boss?" Lila asked, entering Gabriel's office without so much as a knock.
"Mlle. Rossi," Papillon nodded, fingers steepled. Lila stood before him, hands clasped in front of her, a wide, self-satisfied grin on her face. "I have two new targets for you."
"Wonderful," Lila said, her tone chipper, but her eyes darker than before.
"Marc Anciel and Nathaniel Kurtzberg," Papillon said, slipping a scrap of paper to her, the names written there.
"What've they done?" Lila asked, her tone almost salacious.
"Nothing," he said cuttingly. Lila pouted. "I don't want you to hurt them, I want you to follow them."
"What for?" She asked, obviously disappointed, but eyelashes fluttering all the same.
"The Family Coccinelle is up to something. I want you to figure out what."
"That's a little vague," Lila sighed, raising an eyebrow and inspecting her nails with an air of indifference. Gabriel knew she felt missions like these were beneath her, which was exactly why he wanted her to do it. He ignored her little jab.
"They've been quite silent, and what with the events as of late, I find that a little suspicious. They've made no moves to defend themselves against that which they have been accused, which leads me to suspect they have a vulnerability they are unwilling to expose." He paused to glance at Lila, who stood just as impassively as before, but he caught the glint in her eye. "I want to know whatever that is. I happened to receive reliable word just now that these men are tracking them down for us. Looking for their headquarters. Shouldn't be too difficult a job for you, no?"
Lila gritted her teeth in an insincere smile.
"Not at all," she replied, sweetly. And with that, Papillon dismissed her from the room.
"I don't understand how, after three whole weeks, you have nothing to show for your efforts." Chat Noir sat at his desk, face bitten in contempt as he looked at the two men before him. Marc nervously cleared his throat.
"We don't know how they're doing it. We've taken turns staking out various members' homes, but we haven't been able to catch them leaving, only arriving back."
"It's like they know we're there," Nathaniel added, uneasily.
"How could they possibly know?" Nino spoke up from his side chair, fingers kneading his forehead.
"We don't believe they do," Marc reassured the both of them. "We just think they've grown wise from our tactics before and are taking precautions since they've adopted a new headquarters."
Chat Noir wanted to be mad, truly, but he knew there was reason in their words. Of course, they'd be taking more precautions after their Head had been kidnapped. He couldn't expect them to become lazy so soon after an incident like that. He groaned and leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands.
"I didn't expect it would take this long. We need her now." He glanced over at Nino, who returned his gaze, gravely.
"We're doing everything we can, Boss," Nathaniel tried reassuring him. Chat just waved his hand dismissively.
"I know you are, keep doing what you're doing. They have to slip up eventually." He looked at Nino again, his mind written in his expression. Right?
Zoe had not been in Paris in a very long time. Of course, she'd visited a few times in the two years she'd lived in Chevreuse, that was how she met Marinette after all, but never had her stays been very long.
She drove through the streets of the city, drinking in the old familiarity, feeling as though she was visiting a past love. It had taken almost a month for her to decide she needed to visit Ladybug. The unexpected visit from Chloe had been eating at her, and it just felt like the kind of thing she'd need to explain in person, rather than a letter or a phone call.
The decision hadn't been easy. Of course, she wanted to protect her sister, and it hadn't really felt like a business visit, though at the end of the day, that had been its purpose. But the fact of the matter was, the safehouse was compromised now, and Chloe's explanation of Chat Noir's suspicions was truly what she was worried about. If Ladybug didn't know, she needed to.
She wasn't sure of the reasons, but she'd received a letter a week ago that informed her they'd moved headquarters. Something had happened. Something serious. And that was enough to drag her from her hiding place and own up to her omission of truth.
Zoe gripped the wheel as traffic picked up. Groaning as the cars in front of her slowed to a crawl, she glanced down at her fuel gauge to see the hand at a quarter full. She knew there was a gas station just a block away and decided to make a quick stop, if only to get out of this impossible traffic for a few minutes.
After a ten-minute, barely sufferable crawl, she managed to pull into the gas pump. An attendant jumped into action as she got out, nodded to him, and entered the station to use the restroom. She took her time, examining a beautiful yellow hair comb on a shelf she decided against purchasing. She left the small building, tipped the gas attendant, and jumped back in her car, pulling away and back into traffic, unaware that she was being followed.
She arrived at what she knew was the new headquarters, electing to park two blocks away. Glancing around her, she made her way quickly to the Boulangerie Patisserie and entered at the unchanged bottom floor. Ivan stood at the bottom of the stairs, dagger drawn, until he saw who had entered.
"You're here to see Ladybug, I presume?" he asked.
"Yes, I am," Zoe replied.
"I'll show you to her office."
"Thank you," she smiled warmly. They made their way up, entering on the third floor. They greeted Wang Fu, who sat at his desk on the third floor, before ascending the steps and entering Ladybug's new office.
Marinette blinked in surprise as they entered the room, eyes immediately focusing on Zoe, but she stood to greet them all the same.
"Mlle. Bourgeois, what a pleasant surprise. Thank you, Ivan, for showing her the way." Ladybug gestured for her to take a seat. Ivans stood there, a bit awkwardly. Marinette smiled, eyebrow raised. "Did you need something, Ivan?"
He nodded and nervously cleared his throat.
"As you know, Mylene and I are getting married this week, and I wanted to request the week after for our honeymoon. If it's no trouble." He looked so sweet and delighted about the whole thing; it endeared Marinette.
"Of course, Ivan. You and Mylene deserve some time together. Congratulations again," she smiled warmly. He bowed shortly.
"Thanks, Boss." And with that, he retreated down the stairs.
Ladybug turned to Zoe with a smile.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Zoe swallowed guiltily. Ladybug chuckled lightly at her expression. "Not good news, I take it?"
"Unfortunately not," Zoe replied with a grimace. "A few weeks ago, I received a surprise visit from my sister–"
"Chloe?" Ladybug interrupted, her face morphed into one of shock. It surprised Zoe.
"Yes."
"When was this? Do you remember the exact date?" Ladybug's tone was unusually frantic; it took Zoe aback.
"It would've been the 11th of last month, I believe." She racked her brain, thinking back to the day in question.
"How long was she there?" Ladybug asked. Her expression was one Zoe couldn't quite read, but she understood it as fairly desperate.
"Just the weekend. She left that Sunday morning." She watched as Ladybug's expression changed from desperate to true shock. "What is the matter?"
"There is much you have missed," Ladybug said, eyes locking on hers. "I must tell you, before you tell me your news, that Chloe has gone missing."
Zoe felt her breath leave her chest. She felt vaguely as Ladybug gripped her hand in hers. She was fighting some rising emotion. This was not how she expected this meeting to go. How had she not heard? How had she not known? It took some effort for her to tune in again as Ladybug began speaking again.
"The odd thing, Zoe, is that Chat Noir believes she disappeared the day she was apparently with you."
"That doesn't make any sense," Zoe croaked.
"I know," Ladybug said, slowly, watching Zoe carefully. "Let me get you a glass of water, and then you can tell me what you came to tell me. It may help us figure all of this out."
Ladybug stood and descended the stairs, leaving Zoe alone for a moment. She felt as though she were swimming through honey, her mind in shock. She tried to breathe as she gazed out the circular window in front of her. The drifting clouds calmed her. She had to think clearly. Ladybug must have more information, more suspicions she was holding back, and Zoe needed to calm down so she could help and not hinder.
She heard the gentle footsteps of Ladybug approaching and quickly straightened, breathing slowly and deeply. Ladybug's head popped up, glass of water in hand. She watched Zoe carefully as she handed her the glass and sat across from her. The silence stretched as Zoe worked to calm her nerves. She wanted to speak first, but Ladybug beat her to the punch.
"I was unaware you and Chloe were still close." Zoe chuckled a bit at that.
"Close isn't the right word," she smiled softly. "But that isn't relevant now. I came to tell you that Chloe visited, and now the safehouse is compromised." Her tone was measured, informational. "I also wanted to tell you what she asked me about. Chat Noir is, apparently, convinced Coccinelle is up to something, and she came to ask if it was true. I told her no. From what she told me, she was trying to prevent a war breaking out between our families, and she thought speaking with a member of Coccinelle might help convince him."
Ladybug was nodding slowly, obviously reassured that Zoe was calming down.
"Don't worry about the safehouse. I don't know how she found it, but it's not your fault. I happen to trust Chloe a great deal, actually. As for Chat Noir, we've known for a while now that he doesn't trust us, but I appreciate you telling me her perspective. That is most interesting." Ladybug was speaking slowly, obviously trying to figure out how to broach the new subject at hand.
"What I need to tell you is that Chloe has disappeared, and whoever took her framed us, so any chance of saving our relationship with the family Agreste is almost impossible now. We suspect Papillon has something to do with it." Zoe digested this information as Ladybug watched her closely. "We believe she's alive, but until now, we thought she'd been kidnapped on that Friday she was with you. Do you know what her plans were when she left the safehouse Sunday morning?"
"All I know is that she was having troubles with Chat Noir; that he wasn't listening to her or taking her advice, so she was going to tell him about our meeting to try and convince him Coccinelle is trustworthy. I don't know if she ever made it home." She said the last part quietly, processing. It took Ladybug a moment to speak.
"This is all quite unusual," she said finally. "Chat Noir found the symbol of a Ladybug in Chloe's apartment the same evening she arrived at our safehouse, meaning whoever planted it knew she would be gone." Ladybug's brow was furrowed pensively. "Did she say anything to imply someone had sent her, or that she had another reason for being there?"
Zoe racked her brain, thinking back to several weeks ago.
"She mentioned she'd fought with Chat Noir. She also mentioned a letter from our mother, which seemed unusual. Mother doesn't really talk to either of us much anymore, and she seemed really bothered by it at the time, but she didn't tell me what she had written."
"Your mother is also involved in cosa nostra, is that right?" Ladybug asked slowly, tilting her head, considering her own question.
"She was," Zoe nodded, curious too at the direction of this inquiry. "But she worked with Gabriel Agreste."
There was only so much Marinette felt comfortable letting Zoe in on. An idea, a suspicion of what was actually going on, was beginning to form in her mind, but she didn't want to compromise a situation already so sensitive. She pumped the brakes.
"Thank you for all this information. I'm sorry you had to find out about your sister in this way. We've had a crew actively searching for her for three weeks, and we won't be calling it off anytime soon. And when we find her, you'll be the first to know." Zoe smiled with genuine amusement.
"You should tell M. Chat Noir first, I think," she replied, standing up, Ladybug following.
"I may just have to," Ladybug nodded with a short smile, and gestured toward the stairs. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?"
They walked down to Fu's office together. Zoe shook her head.
"Not at the moment. I wanted to keep this a day trip, but the traffic was worse than I thought it would be."
Ladybug made eye contact with M. Fu, who sat at his desk with a warm smile. His tea set rested to his left, steaming faintly.
"You may stay in my home tonight, Mlle. Bourgeois, if you like," he offered.
"I would very much appreciate that," Zoe smiled.
"I'm a bit busy today, but I don't want to keep you. Allow me to walk you out and I'll give you my spare key." He stood and offered Zoe his arm as he led her out, chatting warmly with the girl.
Marinette smiled as they left, but quickly gathered herself and rushed back up the stairs to her office. She stood, hands crossed in front of her, staring at the corkboard Alya had set up a few days ago. Pictures of Chloe, Adrien, a butterfly for Papillon, and a ladybug for herself.
There were notes of things that they knew, and others that they were speculating about. Marinette was doing quite a bit of speculating at the moment. According to Adrien, Chloe had disappeared the day she'd shown up at Zoe's. She'd stayed there for the weekend, left, and then disappeared.
Whoever had planted that ladybug there had known she'd be gone. The note from her mother was an interesting piece. This was what Marinette was thinking most deeply about. Madame Bourgeois had long been involved in cosa nostra, but as Zoe had stated, it had been with Gabriel. If the note was anything important, say, asking her to defect or join another family, that would mean Madame Bourgeois still kept mafia connections.
Marinette thought of Nathalie. She used to work for Gabriel, and now... Well, who was to say Madame Bourgeois hadn't followed the same path? What if she was involved with Papillon too? What would that mean for Chloe? That she chose to work for Papillon, perhaps?
Zoe's visit hadn't technically brought much, but the revelation that Chloe hadn't disappeared when Chat Noir thought she had was pulling the corner of something still hidden. And Marinette had to figure it out if she ever wanted her husband to forgive her. That was at stake here for her. Of course, she cared about Chloe and her safety, but all of this was so deeply personal to her life, too. She was walking a tightrope without end. The only way off was to jump, but she didn't want to do that just yet.
"Thank you again for your generosity," Zoe smiled at M. Fu as he held the door open for her.
"It is no trouble. If you need food, do not hesitate to take what you want. I live alone, so most of it goes uneaten anyway." He smiled and handed her his spare key. She already knew his address, what with it being the previous headquarters. She thanked him and quickly headed back to where she had parked her car. He watched her go until she turned onto the street. Glancing around him, he reentered the building and shut the door as silently as he could.
But even as observant as he was, he didn't spot the young woman lurking across the street, eyes trained directly on him. She smiled to herself, more sincerely than before, but no less wickedly.
It had been all too easy. Marc and Nathaniel were doing all her dirty work for her. They'd been the ones to recognize Zoe Bourgeois at the gas station and follow her. They'd left immediately after to report to their boss, no doubt, but Lila thought she'd stick around a little bit longer. Thank goodness she had, otherwise, she might've missed the fact that Wang Fu, previous Capo di Capi and current target of her Boss, was working for none other than Ladybug.
Now that was a vulnerability.
Marinette wasn't sure what she was doing here. She should be home, cooking dinner, waiting for her dear husband to return and kiss her on the cheek. But she knew he would be out late tonight. Very late.
It had been a long day of speculation. She hadn't even had Alya to discuss it with; she'd been home all day. It was another agreement they had. Since the family Agreste conducted all their business in the Lahiffe household, it was more noticeable if Alya was always gone, so she spent a couple days a week at home, so as not to arouse suspicion. But Marinette had missed her today.
And now she stood, shrouded in the darkness of the hour, staring at what had previously been Chloe Bourgeois' apartment. The apartments surrounding hers shone with faint lights, lamps left on in the dead of night, but Chloe's remained pitch, no curtains to see. Just an empty void.
Marinette sighed, breath catching in her throat just a bit. Truthfully, she was frustrated with herself. She was so close to figuring all of this out, and some part of her just knew if she confessed to Adrien now, they'd be able to solve it together. But some shred of pride remained lodged in her heart. A part of her that refused to rely on him, since he'd chosen against relying on her all of three years ago. She didn't resent him for it; she knew he'd been trying to protect her, but she didn't choose to marry a mafioso believing it'd be an easy life. It hurt sometimes that Adrien didn't see that.
The lampposts flickered on around her, lifting her from her deep thoughts. And that's when she saw him. A dark silhouette leaning against the fence, hands in his pockets, staring up at the very same window. She could've recognized him anywhere, even in the shadows and mask.
He noticed her then, too, and froze.
Neither of them really knew what to do. Marinette couldn't believe this was happening. Not now. She watched him straighten, stiffen, on the prowl. She couldn't quite see his face and prayed he couldn't see hers. He took a step forward, and she took a step back, hyperaware of the lampposts around her. Another step forward. Another step back. She had to speak up. She had to say something.
"I know what you think happened here," she called to him. She was harshening her voice purposefully, in the hope of disguise. "But I had nothing to do with it."
They froze there, unmoving. Had he caught her? Recognized her voice? Was he processing betrayal as she stood there?
He began to shift, moving slowly. He wasn't stepping forward anymore, but Marinette's blood ran cold as she realized he was reaching into his suitcoat.
Marinette was a smart girl, and she knew what Chat Noir was capable of. She'd seen the evidence of that. And she wasn't about to wait around to see what he was planning. So she turned and ran. She heard him yell behind her, his feet falling against the pavement beneath him in hot pursuit.
She had quite the lead, but she was also in heels. She couldn't outrun him. She needed a place to hide.
Thinking quickly, she dodged into the alley next to the complex, her heart stopping when she saw a fence running across it, but she couldn't afford to slow down. Hiking up her skirts, she scrambled up the side of a dumpster and jumped, landing on the other side, hearing the frustration of the man behind her.
She ditched her shoes, mourning the loss of one of her nicer pairs, before dodging to the right and sprinting down the new street. Eyes roving, she threw herself down a cement flight of stairs, to the door of a basement salon, closed for the night. She pressed against the wall, catching her breath and praying she hadn't been spotted.
She heard his footsteps stop abruptly nearby and begin searching. She held her breath. He was muttering to himself, a truly wild sound. Marinette pressed further against the cement behind her, only just now noticing the sting in her feet.
She flinched despite herself as Adrien screamed from frustration only a few paces away. Just a noise. And then he spoke.
"I'm going to find you!" He yelled it from every part of him. "And when I do—" He didn't even bother to finish the sentence; he just yelled again, the harshness of it hurting Marinette's ears.
He stuck around, desperate to find what he was looking for, but his anger blinded him. After what felt like hours, Marinette heard him leave, retreating back to the alleyway. She could hardly breathe. She didn't want to move; she almost couldn't, but she had to beat him home.
Carefully climbing up the steps, she glanced around and dashed from the shadows to make her way back to a busy street. She hailed a cab as quickly as she could. Jumping in, she held out a wad of cash.
"I'll give you €150 to get me home as fast as you possibly can," she said breathlessly. The cabbie reached for it, flicked through it, and just nodded. She gave him her address, and he floored it. For the first time in her life, Marinette was glad to see her cabbie openly breaking laws.
They arrived just eight minutes after leaving, something Marinette didn't even know was possible. She thanked him and jumped out, sprinting up the steps of their home. She ran upstairs to the bathroom and locked it, running the water to the bath just as she heard her husband's car pull up.
She ripped off her dress and peeled her now tattered hosiery from her legs, before bending down and inspecting her feet. Bruised, scraped, and bleeding in some parts, Adrien was sure to ask questions. Not having the time to clean them properly, she washed them hastily under the bathwater, hissing from the pain. Drying them off as best she could, she ran to the cupboard and began quickly bandaging them.
"Marinette?" Adrien knocked lightly on the door. "May I come in?" He sounded tired.
"One moment, darling, I didn't realize I'd locked it!" She tried for an even tone, but wasn't sure she'd succeeded. She heard him retreat further into their bedroom.
Having finished wrapping her feet, she washed off her makeup in the bathwater and wrapped herself in her robe, putting on her slippers to hide the bandages, and pulled the plug to the bath. She threw her clothes into the laundry basket and took a deep breath before unlocking the bathroom door.
"It's open!" she called, reaching for her cold cream and beginning to apply it. Adrien opened the door and smiled at her. His face was lined with exhaustion. "How was your evening?" She asked, smiling at him.
"Uneventful," he said after a moment.
"Really? Uneventful, and you're home this late?" she teased. She hated how easily this was coming to her now.
"You'd be surprised how much of this business is paperwork," he winked at her. "I'm going to take a shower, but don't let me keep you up. He began undressing as Marinette finished her nightly routine. She turned to peck him on the cheek.
"Good night, sweetheart," she said, leaving the room.
"Good night," he called after her.
Taking a breath to steady herself, she flicked off the light and reached into her dresser for a pair of socks. They'd be more comfortable to sleep in than slippers.
She sat on the edge of her bed and switched them before lying down and pulling the covers over herself. Despite her efforts, she was unable to fall asleep until Adrien joined her, kissing her on the cheek before settling in for the night. She slept very soundly after that.
Notes:
We're really cooking now
So sorry about the brief hiatus, kinda got engaged and also classes started up again, but we should be back to weekly updates now
Love yall!
Chapter 10: Smascherato
Notes:
Sorry this one was a day late, I had CRAZY homework this weekend and I wanted to make sure it was up to par before I published it.
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette's eyes opened slowly, blinking in the still-dark room. She felt Adrien shift next to her, leave the bed, and enter the bathroom. She rolled over and checked the clock. 6:30 AM. She stretched and sat up, waiting as she heard water running. Adrien cracked the door and slipped out, leaving the light on to softly illuminate the rest of the room.
"Leaving so early?" she asked, her throat thick from sleep. Adrien's head swiveled to her, realizing he'd woken her, before crawling across the bed to kiss her.
"I've got a very busy day today," he said softly. Marinette reached up and began combing her fingers through his hair. She could see his Cheshire grin in the darkness as he melted into her hands. After a moment, he broke away, standing up and opening his dresser. Marinette sank back against her pillow and watched his shadow prowl the room.
A very busy day... she'd experienced many of Adrien's very busy days in the past, but she couldn't remember a time when he'd had to leave the house early. Maybe he'd found new information about Chloe's situation. Marinette couldn't give it much thought just then; her eyes were growing heavier and heavier.
By the time Adrien had finished preparing for the day, his wife was fast asleep again, curled up against his pillow. He smiled to himself before leaning down and pressing his lips to her forehead.
"Sweet dreams, princess," he whispered. Marinette hmmed in her sleep, and he left the room, clicking the door shut behind him.
Marinette woke up to her alarm clock an hour and a half later, sitting up and rubbing her eyes with her palms. She switched off the clock, got up, and made her way to the bathroom. She washed her face with cold water to wake herself up before turning her attention to her feet. It had been two days since her late-night chase with Chat Noir, and several blisters had begun forming. She'd cleaned them properly the day after, once Adrien had left. She applied ointment which was doing wonders, but the healing process was still slow going.
She changed out the bandages every morning and evening and wore socks and shoes to reduce friction, which was certainly helping, but she still hissed as the bandages came off. Sitting on the edge of the tub, she applied more ointment and rewrapped them, slipping on a new pair of socks carefully, so as not to disturb her neat bandage work.
She stood up with a sigh and began the rest of her morning routine. It was quiet without Adrien there. She decided to dress up a bit that day, electing for a black dress of hers, reminiscent of a Chinese cheongsam, long-sleeved, with a smattering of lighter-toned dots all over it. The dual slits along both seams allowed her more flexibility, for which she was appreciative. She slipped her red domino mask from its place in her dresser and slipped it into her clutch.
She descended the stairs quickly, making her way to the kitchen to eat breakfast. Cherries were in season, and she'd purchased a basket earlier in the week. Leaning against the counter, she took her time, savoring each one before spotting the time on the clock. She threw the pits in the trash and placed the cherries back in the fridge. She rinsed her hands under the sink to rid them of their light-pink stain and dried them, grabbing her day gloves from off the counter. She spotted an orange, the last one, sitting across from her. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing it for the road.
She left out the back door and started up her car, taking off to headquarters. Usually, on a day like this, she'd consider walking, but with the condition of her feet, she didn't want to risk it.
She arrived and parked a few blocks away, making her way to the alleyway door. Entering rapidly, she greeted Ivan at the bottom of the stairs before making her way up. The caporegimes' office was empty, which was a little unusual. She pursed her lips, but continued up the stairs to M. Fu's office. He sat at his desk, a gently steaming teacup in front of him.
"Ah, Ladybug. Rena is upstairs. We have a great deal to discuss today." He picked up his tea and gave her a soft smile.
"Sounds ominous," she raised an eyebrow, teasingly.
"Not for long," he said, motioning for her to take the stairs ahead of him. As he'd promised, Alya was there waiting for them, sitting back against her chair, a troubled expression on her face.
"Morning," she said, unmoving. Marinette took the seat next to her, M. Fu sitting across from her.
"Morning," Ladybug replied. "Wang tells me we have issues to discuss."
"Just one," Rena sighed, heavily. "It's not so bad, but The Lucky Charm got busted last night. Someone tipped off the police, and they showed up without any warning. Luckily, all of our people got out, including Luka and Juleka, but they're going to have to lay low for a few weeks."
"So that's why they weren't downstairs," Ladybug nodded, setting her jaw. This was not good news. They were a fairly small operation already, and with two of her capos gone, they were spreading thin. "Where are they hiding?"
"Not sure," Rena said, waving her hand dismissively. "They own so much property, it could be anywhere. We know they're safe, and they have a telephone so they can communicate with us, need be."
"That makes me a little nervous," Ladybug said, brow furrowed. "Many people, strangers as well as our enemies, know the locations of several of their businesses. We're sure they're secure?"
"They seem to think so," Rena said, shrugging.
"Even though many of our clients are aware of our business locations, the police weren't specifically targeting Luka and Juleka, or even Coccinelle. They received a tip-off about mafia activity and followed through; it wasn't targeted. We aren't in any more danger than we usually are." Wang offered. That much was probably true.
"What is the plan for the business then? Are we putting a pause on The Lucky Charm until they're safe?" Ladybug asked.
"That's what we wanted to discuss," Wang replied. Ladybug mulled it over. They had a few options: Play it really safe, wait the two to three weeks until Luka and Juleka could safely come out of hiding. They could put someone else in charge of The Lucky Charm temporarily, maybe postpone a few of the bigger events in the coming weeks. The Lucky Charm was their primary source of income now, though of course they hadn't put all of their eggs in one basket. Jagged was a source of income for them, as was Mylene.
"What about Rose?" Ladybug said thoughtfully.
"What about Rose?" Rena asked.
"She's one of our top earners with her café, La Féline. She's got experience running a business, and she and Juleka are involved, so I'm sure she knows a bit about their methodology." Wang hmmed pensively.
"That's not a bad idea. We should probably cancel any floating casino events coming up and stick to the main jazz bar operation," he said.
"I agree," Ladybug replied, nodding, satisfied. Rena was nodding too.
"We should tell her immediately then," she said, eyebrow raised. "Would you like me to make the call?"
"If you wouldn't mind," Ladybug smiled, and Rena smiled and winked before descending the stairs to Fu's office. The moment she was gone, she swivelled to Fu. "I have something to tell you." She said shortly. M. Fu had been about to sip from his cup of tea, but at her words, he set it back down in its saucer on the coffee table.
"Yes?" he asked, his voice warm. He recognized her serious tone.
"I don't think I can keep this a secret anymore," she whispered, almost disappointed in herself. Wang didn't speak. "We've had too many close calls. Adrien saw me the other night, knew I was Ladybug, but didn't recognize me as Marinette. He tried to chase me down. On top of that, I really think we need to collaborate with the Agreste family if we're going to get to the bottom of what happened to Chloe and figure out what Papillon is up to."
She waited for Wang's response without looking up. She couldn't make eye contact now; she felt so ashamed. She desperately wanted to be good at this, but the pressure was mounting, and it would only get worse the longer she waited. Wang cleared his throat, and Marinette steeled herself enough to look up. Wang's eyes were kind as always. A faint smile in his expression let her know he wasn't disappointed, her second-greatest fear at the moment.
"I agree," he said finally. Marinette struggled to find her voice.
"...You do?" she asked, incredulously.
"Yes. You make good points, and truthfully, I believe you are right. I had hoped Chat Noir might come to his senses and see for himself that we are not the enemy, but that does not seem to be happening. The longer that goes on, the more danger you're in. I'm surprised you've waited this long to ask." His words were gentle, reassuring, patient.
"I've been thinking about it for a while," she admitted, her voice still quiet.
"I believe now is the time for a confession," Fu said, nodding slowly. "What of Rena?"
"Would it be better for me to confess to Adrien and see his reaction before I tell Rena to do the same, or should we inform our spouses at the same time?" She asked, straining to hear downstairs. She could still hear Alya speaking on the phone.
"That may be something to discuss with her," Fu suggested gently. Ladybug nodded, relief flooding through her. Truthfully, she was terrified to confess to Adrien after all this time, but at least it was happening. She'd run through her side of the conversation over and over in her head. She couldn't be sure how Adrien would react, but like his apology to her a month ago, she'd let him take the pace.
The call ended downstairs, and Alya ascended the stairs quickly to rejoin them. Fu shot Marinette a significant look before standing, taking his tea with him.
"I believe Ladybug has something to discuss with you. I'll be in my office if you need me." And with that, he bowed out, shutting the hatch door behind him. Alya sat down in the chair across from her this time, eyebrow raised.
"Well?" She inquired, watching Marinette's face carefully. She smiled in response, though it felt weak.
"I'm going to tell Adrien." The statement hung there, heavy in the air. Alya didn't so much as blink. Behind her eyes, Marinette could tell many gears and wheels were turning, so she stayed silent, allowing her the time.
"Okay," Alya said finally. There were many undertones there. Marinette rushed to speak.
"I wanted to ask if you'd prefer I tell Adrien first, see how he reacts, inform you, and you could gauge how to tell Nino. Or, we could both go home tonight and confess to them separately." Marinette couldn't read Alya; it was unnerving her. She continued, quicker than before. "You don't even need to tell Nino if you don't want to, I just assumed based on our previous conversation–"
"I want to tell him tonight," Alya interrupted her.
"Okay," Marinette replied. They looked at each other, thoughts swimming. It'd been so long that they'd kept this secret. More than three years now. Based on current events, neither was sure exactly how their spouses would respond, but it was quickly becoming their only option. Neither had loved keeping this secret from them, least of all Alya. Marinette had gleaned some satisfaction, especially in the beginning, but as the recent months had crawled by, accusation after accusation, close call after close call, the weight had become unbearable.
Now was the time to come clean. For better or for worse, it would help them get to the bottom of whatever Papillon was scheming and erase the circumstantial wedge between the Agreste and Coccinelle families. It would either eliminate or elevate the danger, but they would have each other. At least, that was the hope.
After her conversation with Alya, there wasn't much else to work on, but she'd hung around for appearances' sake. In the end, she decided to head home early. If she were going to confess to Adrien that night, she'd need to make a very good meal.
She was thinking about her recipe for minestrone; mentally checking if she had all the ingredients as she stepped out the alleyway door, having forgotten to remove her domino mask. She had parked a few blocks away. Even in her forgetfulness, she clutched her dagger in her right hand, as had become her habit. She was only a block away from her car, in between two buildings, when she heard the slip of a shoe behind her.
It was much like before, the whole process. Marinette should've seen it coming, but alas, she'd grown a little lax in the last month or so. As the bag went over her head, she twisted and slashed out blindly with her dagger, grinning as she heard the satisfying sound of someone curse before her arms were restrained behind her and her weapon forcibly removed from her grasp.
She struggled, if possible, harder than the time before. She had less fear coursing through her this time and more fury, but it didn't do much good. She was practically lifted into the car. As before, she was restrained against the seat and forced down so no one could see her through the windows. A door slammed shut.
"Are you okay?" The man beside her asked, obviously directed at the man getting into the driver's seat. It didn't stop Marinette from replying.
"Could be better," she managed to get out. She man's grip tightened around her upper arm. She winced.
"You keep quiet," he growled in response. She pouted beneath the bag.
"We should've gagged her like last time," the man in the driver's seat said. "And yeah, I'm fine. She got my arm, but I won't need stitches."
"Pity," Marinette drawled. The grip on her arm was crushing now.
"It's really not too late for a gag," the man next to her threatened. She rolled her eyes, but kept quiet after that. She wanted to preserve what little dignity she had at the moment. Especially considering who she was about to see.
After only a few more minutes, the car pulled into a driveway. Like before, she was pulled to a back door, through to a landing, and down a set of stairs to a much colder, much more resonant part of the house. It was eerily familiar now. Not enough to be comforting in any way, just a reminder that she'd been here before.
Her heart pounded in her chest, traveling to her throat. The fury she'd felt before was quickly being replaced by dread. After all the repetition, this part would not be like last time. She certainly would not be given an opportunity to escape. There was no way out.
She heard one of her captors knock on a door before pushing it open. She was forced into a chair in the center of the room, but upon their entrance, she became all too aware of other presences in the room. Just as before, her arms were tied behind her to the chair. And then came the voice she'd been dreading.
"Ladybug. So good of you to join us. I don't believe we've been properly introduced." There was no mistaking the voice of her husband. Then again, it sounded very little like him. There were several reasons Marinette disliked seeing Chat Noir in their home, and one was the subtle change in his voice. She didn't like it one bit, least of all now.
She heard shuffling as the two men who had smuggled her here left the room and closed the door with a click. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. This was not the moment she'd been imagining, but she'd be damned if she didn't show him what she was truly capable of. Everything he'd missed, undervalued, and left unrealized. It was the perfect game of poker. He was under the impression that he held the most powerful cards in the room, when only she knew how dead wrong he was.
"I've been looking forward to this moment for a very long time." Chat punctuated his words with full dramatics, normally enough for anyone to feel a chill up their spine, but Ladybug instead sat up straighter. She would've crossed her legs if they weren't tied beneath her.
"As have I," she said, cooly. She was aware that, though she disliked Adrien's change of voice when he became Chat, her second identity had a similar instinct. It was smoother, silkier, self-assured, and authoritative. Very different from her usual gentle-natured tone.
Chat seemed unable to form a response, either from frustration or bewilderment. She would've found it more amusing if she weren't currently trying to figure her way out of this. If that was even possible.
"Cat got your tongue, Monsieur?" She asked, delicately. She heard a suppressed snort to her right. Nino. She thought. Of course, he'd be here too.
"Mademoiselle Laybug, you tease too much for someone in your current predicament." His tone had turned dark now. It didn't bother her.
"You make it too easy," she replied. She heard him exhale in frustration. Perhaps poking fun at him wasn't the wisest play at the moment. "My apologies. It's just, with all the theatrics in getting me here, I thought some of my own was in due order."
"Theatrics," Chat spat out bitterly. "Was kidnapping Chloe another part of your 'theatrics'?" Her heart sank.
"As I told you in our encounter two nights ago, I had nothing to do with Mlle. Bourgeois' disappearance, nor the family Coccinelle."
"I don't believe you!" Chat's voice rose several decibels. She heard more shuffling as Nino muttered something to him. A whispered argument. Ladybug caught her breath. It was a miracle they hadn't removed the sack from her head, but she was fully aware of her time ticking down. They continued whispering to each other, Adrien's– no, Chat's tone much angrier than Nino's, but eventually, they came to a consensus. She could almost hear her metaphorical clock inch to a stop.
"Mlle. Ladybug," Chat spoke, his tone measured once more. "I know you treat your identity as sacred, but I'm afraid I can't trust a mask anymore." She could feel him creep forward, and despite herself, she pressed further against her chair, attempting to create distance. She heard Chat chuckle at her movement.
"If it's the truth you're after, I must tell you I was planning on revealing myself to you this very night." Her voice cracked. That made him pause. She heard it in his footsteps.
"Then you won't mind if I do this," he murmured, closer to her than before. She felt his hand above her grip the corner of the bag. Her heart jumped to her throat, threatening to undo all the careful efforts she'd made to remove fear. As he pulled the bag from her head, she instinctively ducked down as far as she could go, continuing to hide her face.
Her fear had gotten the best of her, she realized as she stared down at a pair of shiny black wingtip oxfords. She was pretty sure that the only thing keeping Adrien from realizing who was sitting in front of him now was the state of her hair and the sheer absurdity of it all. The almost empty room around her suddenly felt suffocating as Chat chuckled softly, ducking down near her ear.
"I'm afraid that won't do, Mlle. Ladybug." He placed his thumb and pointer finger underneath her chin and slowly lifted her face to meet his. After all this time, after all her lies, after all the hiding, even down to the wire, she met his eyes steadily.
The same could not be said of him. As Adrien's eyes widened in understanding, he stumbled backward, hitting the table behind him. Nino grabbed him, bracing his shoulders, as he, too, stared at Marinette in shock. The red mask still across her face did little to hide her true features. Still, she wished she could remove it. But perhaps it was more fitting, mask gazing at mask.
Marinette swallowed, her pulse still pounding in her veins. She wished desperately that he would say something. Anything. Even if he shouted, it would be better than this thick silence. But she couldn't bring herself to break the stillness either.
He just stared, almost completely unmoving, except for the fact that he was shaking, albeit subtly. Nino's grip on him tightened. After an eternity, truly, Marinette couldn't describe it any other way, he blinked, took a deep breath, and left the room, not sparing another glance at his wife. And somehow, that hurt more than anything else he could've done.
Marinette, despite her best efforts, felt defeated. She sank against the chair, blinking rapidly to stem the forming tears. She was blithely aware of Nino behind her, removing her restraints. He did the same to her ankles, before standing straight again and tossing the cords on the table and crossing his arms.
"Is Alya involved in all of this?" His voice was stern and cold. So unlike him. Marinette rubbed her wrists, contemplating a response.
"Yes," she said simply. She watched Nino process this. "I didn't lie before. We were both planning on confessing tonight." And that was when the tears started to fall. She removed her mask quickly and heard Nino sigh before grabbing her clutch from off the table. She hadn't noticed it there before. He handed it to her, and she whispered her thanks before taking out her handkerchief and dabbing her eyes.
"You should go home," Nino said finally. Marinette nodded and gathered herself before standing. Nino held the door open and led her upstairs, through the main hall, and to the front door, but she couldn't leave just yet.
"I roped her into all of this. I have to tell you that. It's my fault she ever got involved." A desperate feeling was mounting in her chest.
"Marinette." He spoke firmly, but not unkindly. "I know my wife." Marinette blinked up at him, the desperation taking full flight now. He avoided her gaze as he held the door open for her. She paused, debating whether or not to say anything more, before nodding curtly and stepping out and down the front steps. He closed the door behind her.
Marinette walked home, the sun still high in the sky, and her feet stinging in her shoes.
When she got home, she didn't know what to do with herself. She sat down on the couch and stared contemplatively at the wall. She couldn't imagine Adrien would be coming home anytime soon, but she wanted to be ready when he did. She sat there for an hour before moving again.
It was four o'clock. Time to start on dinner. She cooked her usual recipe of minestrone and took the time to bake a new loaf of bread for the week. She set the table at five o'clock and poured herself a glass of white wine; fruit juice, more than alcohol. Just something to ease the nerves. Though in reality, she hadn't been able to feel her nerves for a while now.
She ate slowly, her ears tuned to every sound, itching to hear his car pull into the driveway, but she was left waiting. After another hour, she looked down at her bowl and realized she'd only gotten halfway through it, but she wasn't hungry anymore. She dumped the remnants back into the pot and packed it all up into the fridge, getting started on the dishes.
When she finished, she couldn't think of anything else to do. It was well past six now, and dark outside. She sat back down on the couch and looked at the words on a page of her book, her eyes unmoving.
She wasn't sure what she was feeling. She was a little in shock; she could tell that much. But slowly, as the hand on their living room clock dipped further and further into the night, she felt her nerves come alive, overcome by a sensation of dread and fear.
She knew what Chat Noir was capable of. She knew what Adrien was capable of. And she had been lying to him for three years.
Surely, this was unforgivable. Flaunting a mafia empire under his nose, in his own home. The one person in his life who should've been right by his side, with him in sickness and health, a support, a source of love and trust, and she couldn't honestly say she'd been honoring that. All the close calls and white lies; she was sure he must be running them through his mind, calculating her exact level of deception.
What if he didn't come home that night? What if he never did? Could she really blame him? She was in the world of cosa nostra now, and Adrien could justify a mafia response over a domestic one. Which meant she might not be safe.
She thought of Alya. She'd ruined her life, that much was sure. She wondered if she'd returned home yet, entered the bedroom prepared for an honest confession, and been greeted by Nino, sitting beneath a lamp, ready to grill her. She probably had, it was such a late hour. Could Alya ever forgive her?
But where was Adrien? Surely, he wasn't still at the Lahiffe's. Nino had his own personal business to handle, and it was much too late for him to try and justify getting work done. Marinette gazed out the window, seeing only her own reflection in the darkness beyond the glass.
So much for her earlier bravado. She'd felt really powerful then, even in her bounds. Though she'd been kidnapped, restrained, and inevitably unmasked, she had felt, strangely, on even ground with Adrien. Before he'd found out her identity, they'd had a conversation. A real conversation, with stakes and meaning and mutual respect. It was so different from how he treated her at home.
Not that he didn't respect her, she knew he did, and she knew he loved her, but when it came to cosa nostra, he'd never let her in. Even before they'd gotten married, he'd refused to discuss it with her. And when she'd been offered a Family of her own, she intensified the rule: no mafia business in the house. Ever.
Perhaps all of this had been simple pettiness. Or maybe she just wanted to understand. She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore, except that it was suddenly a quarter to midnight and it looked like Adrien wasn't coming home.
Blinking away her daze, she stood shakily and made her way upstairs to get ready for bed. She wasn't sure she'd be able to fall asleep in this state, but maybe that was for the best. In any case, her bed was soft, she felt cold, and it was something to do.
She slipped off her cheongsam and hung it up in their shared closet. She carefully removed her heels and hosiery and inspected her bandages for a moment before walking over to her dresser, removing her brassiere, pulling out a black nightgown, and slipping it over her head.
She turned off the light and made her way to the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and removing her bandages. Some of her blisters had begun healing, which was a relief. Rinsing her feet off, she applied her usual ointment and rewrapped them. She stood carefully and made her way to the sink, which is when she heard a sound coming from downstairs. Her heart jumped into her throat, and she froze, listening.
Footsteps. A familiar cadence, too. Someone who knew their way around the house without switching on the lights. Her breath stuck in her lungs as she slowly stretched out for her clutch, reaching inside and grabbing her brass knuckles. She didn't don them. Instead, she rested them beside her and leaned back against the bathroom counter, staring into the dark depths of their bedroom, waiting. Her hands shook, so she pressed them behind her, against the cold granite.
A figure entered the bedroom, pausing just outside of the beam of light thrown against the floor. Despite her dread earlier, this was it. The moment she'd been waiting for. Sure, she was terrified. But she was just as formidable. Just as lethal. This was a moment for honesty and a moment to prove herself. She couldn't back down now.
She had to give her husband credit where credit was due. He was terrifying, lurking just outside of sight. She might've imagined it, but she could've sworn his green eyes were glowing in the darkness. The tension hung there until he finally moved to the door frame, his face illuminated, and suddenly the air wasn't just hers anymore. She watched his eyes trail down her body until they rested at her bandaged feet. His brow furrowed, staring there, until he looked back up and met her gaze.
Their eyes locked, and he took a step closer. He didn't smell like liquor, like she'd feared. He was dressed in his usual dark, pinstriped suit, though he held his mask in his hand. He glanced down at the counter, eyeing the brass knuckles beside her. Marinette lifted her chin slightly, challenging him.
He crept closer still until he was directly in front of her, towering, and inspecting her face like it was new. She continued her gaze up at him, allowing her vulnerability to remain, her hands still positioned behind her, her eyes cool against his inspection.
He reached his hand up and brushed the side of her cheek with the back of his hand. His touch was so soft and gentle, she couldn't help but close her eyes. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and paused for a moment, watching her expression before leaning down and kissing her.
It was a deep and hungry kiss, full of all the words they'd been unable to say in all their years together. Adrien pressed against her, against the counter, gripping the base of her jaw, pulling her to him. He drank her in, and Marinette let him, reaching her hands up to clutch at his shoulders and the back of his neck.
They pulled apart to breathe, faces inches apart, only for a moment as desire hung thickly in the air around them. Without warning, Adrien gripped her by the hips and lifted her to sit on the counter before pulling her back to him. She pressed flush against his chest, her nightgown riding up her thighs as they met in the middle. He pressed his lips against hers again, far more aggressively and possessively than before.
Marinette's heart pounded in her chest as unintentional moans and gasps escaped her. It had been a long time since Adrien had pursued her in such a manner, and she felt herself melting in his grip. He broke apart for a moment more, panting and staring at her with lust and love in his eyes.
"We don't talk about the business at home," he murmured, as she nodded shortly, catching her breath. He grinned that feline grin of his, before lifting her from the counter and carrying her to their bed, lips fixed immovably from hers.
Notes:
hehehehehheeehehehheeeeehehe
Chapter 11: Rivelazioni
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette woke to the alarm, lying in the protective arms of her husband. He rolled over and turned it off before coming back, kissing her on the cheek, and heading for the bathroom. She lay there, blinking in the rising light of morning as the sink ran, muffled behind the door. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, reaching for her robe as she wasn't currently wearing much clothing. She put on her slippers before making her way downstairs.
She quickly started up the kettle for coffee and took out the croissants from the cupboard. As the water boiled, she removed it from the stove, poured it over the already prepared coffee grounds, and watched it slowly filter through into the carafe below. She took out two coffee mugs from the cupboard as Adrien's familiar footsteps took to the stairs.
She turned to see him leaning against the entrance, watching her with soft eyes. His tie hung untied around his neck. An invitation.
"Coffee's almost done," she said, coming closer and reaching for the tie. He tilted his head, watching her face as her deft fingers wound a perfect Windsor. As she tightened it up to his collar, he leaned down and stole a kiss. Her hands rested on his chest before she pulled away, smiling as she turned back to the coffee. Adrien followed her, grabbing one of the croissants from its plate and eating it in three bites.
Marinette raised an eyebrow.
"Hungry, are you?"
"Ravenous," he replied, shooting her a wink. She snorted as she poured the freshly brewed coffee into their mugs, handing one to her husband.
"Creams in the fridge," she said, sipping from her own plain cup. He dodged around her legs to the refrigerator, adding a generous pour to his cup before replacing it and closing the door. He leaned against the counter next to his wife and sipped, taking his time now as Marinette finished off her croissant.
After a moment, he checked his watch and sighed.
"I must be going, sweetheart." She nodded, taking his empty mug from him and setting it in the sink before following him to the front door. They stood in front of each other, amusedly, refusing to discuss the discoveries of last night. Marinette crept closer, kissing the side of his cheek.
"Stay safe, minou," she whispered.
"You too, princess," he answered, a small smile showing in the corner of his lips. He bent down and kissed the top of her head before opening the door and stepping out, shutting the door behind him. Marinette took a deep breath, coffee clutched in both her hands, before breaking out into a wide smile. She finished off the rest of her coffee before heading upstairs to get ready for the day.
As Adrien drove to the Lahiffes' home, his mind turned reluctantly to business. He'd be seeing Nino in just a few minutes, and he knew for a fact that he had been less than amused by their wives' behavior. Adrien was going to have to deal with the fallout.
As he pulled into the driveway, he noted that Alya's car was absent. Ostensibly on her way to work, just as he assumed his own wife was that very moment. Parking and switching off the car, Adrien stepped out and pocketed his keys before taking the back entrance. Nodding to the few mafiosos moving about on the ground floor, he took to the stairs, hands in his pockets, all the way up to his office, where he suspected his underboss was waiting.
He was correct. As he pushed open the door, he immediately locked eyes with a sleepless-looking Nino who was standing in the middle of the room. He had his arms behind his back, and he looked antsy.
"Morning," Adrien said, shutting the door behind him. Nino followed him all the way to his desk as he sat down. Nino, it seemed, couldn't possibly sit, and he planted his hands on the desk in front of him and glared at Adrien.
"That's all you have to say?" Nino hissed, his voice low. Adrien sighed and removed his domino mask, setting it on the table off to the side. This was not a conversation for Chat Noir.
"Well, I figured it was a softer start than; so how did discussing Alya's business associations go last night?" Adrien said with a little more bite than he meant.
"It must've gone well for you," Nino ground out. He was quite furious, his hands curled into tight fists.
"We didn't talk about it," Adrien said simply.
"What do you mean you didn't talk about it?" Nino asked with as much venom and sarcasm as he could muster.
"Marinette has this rule, as you well know. We don't discuss business at home, so I simply enforced it." Adrien shrugged.
"You're joking," Nino pinched the bridge of his nose. "You weren't curious at all as to what they've been up to this whole time? Why they did this?"
"Of course I am," Adrien responded, lips pursed. "But they're a part of this business too. I figured Ladybug would prefer something a little more formal, a little more discreet."
"You mean Marinette," Nino corrected, his voice dark.
"No, I don't. I mean Ladybug," Adrien said, eyebrow raised. "Coccinelle has been in this for almost three years. I think we can both admit they know what they're doing by now. I suspect we'll get all the answers we want soon enough."
Nino didn't look satisfied with this.
"Alya refused to tell me anything last night. I ended up sleeping on the couch because I just couldn't stand to be around her," he dragged his fingers over his face in frustration, but Adrien caught the emotion in his voice.
"Was it because you yelled and demanded she tell you everything the second she got home?" Adrien asked, his tone softer this time. Nino didn't respond. "You have to remember our timing was quite poor. Ladybug said they were planning on confessing that night. Can you imagine Alya arriving home, prepared to tell you the truth, only for you to confront her first, furious without her having said a single thing?" Nino remained silent, hands still over his face. "We'll get all the answers we need, I'm sure of it. And I know this is hard. I didn't get home until past midnight. It took me that long to calm down enough for me to face her." Nino sank down into his usual chair, resting his head in his hands before looking up at Adrien, a sense of confession about him.
"She was gone by the time I woke up," Nino whispered. "I just don't want to see her hurt."
"They don't want to see us hurt either," Adrien replied, watching him. "We just have to be patient." Nino nodded slowly, finally conceding to his point. He looked at Adrien for a moment before he noticed something.
"What's that in your pocket?" Adrien looked down and pulled a slip of paper from his breast pocket, unfolding it curiously.
Jazz club, just after sunset. Bring your underboss.
A little black ladybug accompanied the missive. Adrien smiled before tossing it to Nino.
"An invitation," he said shortly as Nino's brow furrowed.
"I want to talk to him alone," was the only thing Alya said. Marinette nodded, watching her friend closely. She held her arms tight to her chest and had shadows under her eyes. The night had not gone well for her.
"That can be arranged," she responded. She walked up and gently took Alya's hand, leading her to sit in one of the cushioned seats, Marinette right beside her. "I'm sorry it all came out this way." Alya sniffed, and Marinette took off her mask. This was not a conversation for Ladybug.
"The second I walked in, he was there. How was I supposed to react?" Tears dripped down her face.
"He loves you. He wants to protect you," Marinette said softly, rubbing the back of Alya's hand.
"I know. I just thought he'd at least hear me out," Alya responded, trying to gather herself.
"It took Adrien til after midnight to come home. I think he had to burn off some steam before seeing me," Marinette laughed, but it had no heart. Alya looked at her.
"It's not your fault, you know." She said quietly.
"It can be," Marinette offered. Alya just shook her head.
"We've both made choices. And Nino is just going to have to suck it up and respect that." They smiled softly at each other, tears dried, prepared for what was to come.
Chloe felt as though she'd finally woken up. For a month, she'd been hypnotized, taken advantage of, puppeted, but Felix had reminded her of who she truly was. She was not a woman to be trifled with. She was powerful, intelligent, cunning, thorough. She was a consigliere twice over, a strategist, and a damn good lawyer. And she was done with Papillon.
It was like she'd flipped a switch back on. Her original plan, to bide her time, gain trust, and get out of there, was surfacing again, solidifying as her only true option. She knew how to survive, Felix was right. She'd have to behave like Nathalie, like him, in order to get through this with her mind intact. So that's what she did.
After her disappointing meeting with Gabriel, she'd gone home and, without giving it much thought, began packing, practicing in her mind how she'd shut him out. And it was working so far. She'd become much colder, expressionless, and efficient. She gave him nothing to latch onto, nothing to dig out. He noticed the difference, she could tell, but he seemed more pleased with her change than anything else. But he couldn't feed her ego anymore; he didn't deserve it, and Chloe wouldn't let him.
She heard the news that they had finally discovered the location of Wang Fu. This was the beginning of the end. As long as she cooperated enough to make sure his plan succeeded, she could slip away while his attention was on other matters. She coordinated the kidnapping, ran through the plan with Gabriel and a couple of his capos. Nothing would go wrong. And then, at just the right moment, she'd be gone, not a trace to be found.
She only hoped that once she escaped, Adrien would forgive her for everything she'd done.
Adrien and Nino arrived at the jazz bar just as darkness fell. A soft, swinging tune seeped out from the dimly lit front door. They entered, drinking in their surroundings. To any common passerby, it looked like a normal bar, albeit sparsely patroned. Purple and blue sconce lights hung from the ceiling over each table, draped with dark purple tablecloths. The floor was checkered black and white, and a live band played on a short stage off to the right. To the left stood a long, wooden bar, the shelves behind stocked with every liquor imaginable.
Adrien knew what kind of business was conducted here. This was the main location of the Couffaine siblings, but he couldn't spot them anywhere. Instead, a blonde woman dressed head to toe in light pink came up to them. Adrien remembered who this was.
"Bonjour, Monsieurs," she greeted them, all smiles. "I am Rose Lavillant, tonight's hostess. I understand you are here by appointment, is that correct?"
"It is," Adrien replied. He caught Nino out of the corner of his eye, inspecting everything in the vicinity, highly suspicious of their current environment. He elbowed him, Nino shooting him a look while rubbing his arm. Rose politely ignored this and just nodded.
"Allow me to show you to the conference rooms," she said, making a beeline for a door on the far side of the bar. Adrien and Nino followed. Truthfully, Adrien had been looking forward to this meeting all day. He missed his wife. Knowing that all this time, she'd been conducting her own kind of business, secreting it away behind his back, and still being home in time to make dinner, was thrilling to him. He knew Marinette was not a woman to be trifled with; it was a large part of why he married her, but discovering this new part of her satisfied a part of him he didn't know existed. Lying to him was quite possibly the sexiest thing she'd ever done, though he'd never admit that to her.
Rose had led them to a darker part of the building, obviously a section not available to most patrons. She stopped outside a door.
"Monsieur Lahiffe," she gestured for him to enter. Nino blinked, taken aback.
"Separately?" he asked, his voice just a hint higher than usual.
"Yes, Monsieur. That is how I have been instructed," Rose replied. Nino swallowed and tugged at his collar before gripping the handle and pulling the door open. Adrien was only just able to catch a glimpse of Alya, sitting, legs crossed at the end of a large table, her expression quite emotionless, before Nino shut the door behind him.
"This way, Monsieur Noir," Rose beckoned, moving further along in the hallway until they reached the last door. "Ladybug will be joining you shortly."
"She's not—?" But Rose was already walking away. Adrien blinked mutely before turning and entering this new room. Marinette was indeed not waiting for him inside. It was quite a room. A long, hardwood table spanned most of it, and something like twenty chairs outlined its shape. Adrien ran his fingers along it, getting a feel for the whole room.
It was obviously used for conferences. Perhaps whole Family affairs, he mused, walking the length of it. He pulled out the chair at its head and sat down, crossing his ankle over his knee and reclining. A very comfortable chair, he had to admit. A supple, warm leather covered its surface. He wondered vaguely what Ladybug was making to afford luxury of this caliber when he heard the doorknob twitch.
Sitting up straighter, his gaze rested lazily at the door in front of him. She had made him wait, and he would make that fact obvious.
His lazy expression didn't last long as Ladybug entered the room in the most amazing dress Adrien had ever laid eyes on. She shut the door and turned toward him. His mouth went dry. The back of her dress had shown off a low back, disarming him immediately, but as she turned to look at him, her expression coy, he almost couldn't contain himself. The fabric was a rich, red velvet, and it clung to her curves in the same way he wished he could right that second. A ruffled kind of cape hung from her shoulders. He couldn't help but imagine himself running his hands underneath it, touching every inch of her. Her usual domino mask matched, covered in the same red velvet.
He tried to compose himself, but to no avail. Ladybug noticed, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
"I must inform you, Chat Noir, that I am a married woman." She showed off her ring, fluttering her fingers at him as she sat down across the table. She was teasing him. He knew it. A dress like that, and he couldn't get near her? Showing off the very ring he'd proposed to her with? She was undoing him by the second, his composure falling apart. He licked his lips.
"Oh, are you?" he replied, his voice hoarse.
"Yes. And I am very loyal." Her smile was so subtle and knowing. Adrien thought she might as well kill him now.
"What a shame," he said simply. Ladybug couldn't hide her amusement at that.
"Do restrain yourself, Monsieur Noir." Adrien chuckled under his breath.
"You're making that rather difficult, M'Lady." His tone had turned a touch prurient, a redemption from his earlier, struggled breath. Ladybug quirked her eyebrow at the appellation.
"Then I will keep this meeting brief, Chaton." Adrien almost choked on air. "I assume you have questions for me?"
"I do, but I must confess my mind is blank at the moment." He shot her a wink across the table. She was amused, he could tell.
"Allow me to start, then. I started the family Coccinelle at the request of an informant who must remain anonymous, but he was suspicious of the sudden appearance of the family Papillon, and knowing my... relations," she looked at him pointedly, "with the business, he asked me to form a family of my own to investigate. I was happy to oblige.
"I want to be clear in that I never meant to step on your toes, and I'm sorry you felt that way at times—" Adrien cut her off.
"No apology necessary." He purred. Ladybug bit her lip to restrain her smile.
"Even so, I never meant to interfere with your business. As you can see, gambling is going very well for us. We are no longer pursuing our protection-based avenues; those are reserved solely for you and your Family." She paused, watching him carefully. "Secondly, and more importantly, we have not kidnapped Mlle. Chloe Bourgeois. Part of the reason we had decided to confess our identities to you was so that we could share information and figure out what has occurred."
Chat Noir was paying rapt attention now, but he didn't speak.
"I have received reliable word from an informant who must also remain anonymous, but I assure you, is someone I trust, that Chloe didn't disappear on a Friday. She left Paris to visit someone and departed that Sunday morning, which is when she truly disappeared. We believe the ladybug symbol you found was ripped off from a note we hung at the usual posta, asking for a meeting to clear the air. At that time, you thought we were manipulating your wives, and we wanted to set the record straight. That letter disappeared within the hour, and we assumed you saw it before we heard the circumstances of Mlle. Bourgeois's disappearance."
"So Papillon has done this," Chat said bitterly. Ladybug grimaced.
"We believe so. The only problem is we don't know where the family Papillon is located."
"Neither do we," Chat shook his head.
"I thought as much. The one thing I'm stuck on is that whoever left that note knew Mlle. Bourgeois would be out of town when her trip was quite sudden." Ladybug looked quite puzzled now. Despite the subject of conversation, Adrien smiled softly at her expression.
"I spoke with her significant other after she went missing, and she confirmed Chloe had planned to leave Paris, but that her plan had included leaving Saturday, not Friday. Her partner couldn't give me a reason for her departure, however."
"Papillon must've known, or perhaps manipulated her into leaving town, knowing you'd investigate if she went missing and find the stamp." Ladybug frowned before sighing and straightening up. "That's all the information we have. I don't think we're going to solve it tonight, but I want you to know we're on your side. We have a task force investigating and trying to locate her, and we have since her disappearance. If we find anything else, we'll let you know."
"Thank you," Chat Noir said, sincerely. Ladybug smiled softly back. She then became a little sheepish, biting her lip, gazing at him, carefully.
"The last thing I'd like you to know is that though I have quite close connections with members of your Family," again, that pointed look. "I never shared information with Coccinelle I hadn't gotten in an honest way. I never shared things I overheard as, or were purposefully shared with, my alternate identity."
Chat smiled, amused once again.
"I appreciate your caution," he replied. Ladybug smiled right back at him, and he felt his stomach swoop. It was so unfair that she was just that attractive; she could undo him with a smile.
"Any questions of your own?" She asked, tilting her head, encouraging him to say something.
"This husband of yours—" He caught her eye roll. "He's a good one?"
"The best," she replied immediately.
"Handsome?"
"Very."
"Loving?"
"Extremely."
"Deserving of you in a dress like this?" Ladybug could not contain her teasing grin this time.
"I'd like to think so. A good husband deserves to be spoiled every once in a while."
"He's a very lucky man," Chat winked at her.
"Yes, he is." She smirked right back. Their gap in conversation lengthened as they each watched the other. Ladybug, coy as ever, her gaze burning a hole through his heart. His gaze, openly desirous, unfortunately did little to phase her. "Well, if you have no further inquiries, I suggest we retrieve our respective underbosses." She stood.
"Of course, M'Lady," he replied, walking across the room to her and offering his hand. She obliged, and he bent down and kissed her knuckles, looking up at her all the while. He straightened and pushed the door open, holding it for her. She walked forward but stopped just in front of him, catching him by surprise.
"While I'm certainly flattered, Chaton, I do hope that's a gun in your pocket." She gazed up at him through her lashes, a teasing look in her eyes, as Adrien bit his tongue to keep quiet. She brushed past him, making her way through the hallway to the room containing Nino and Alya. Adrien let out a breath and resisted looking down, following after the woman who would soon be the death of him.
She knocked quietly on the door and waited. After a beat, she knocked again, a little louder this time. No sound came from inside. She looked at Chat, a questioning expression in her creased brow. He shrugged and pulled the door open. Very quickly, they realized why they had not received a response.
Nino sat in his chair with Alya astride him, her dress hem pushed over her thighs as they kissed passionately, hands roaming each other's bodies. Chat paused in shock, unsure what to do, but Ladybug loosened his grip on the knob and pushed it closed, a wince on her face as it clicked shut.
"Seems like they made out— up, made up, I mean," Chat said hastily. Ladybug covered her mouth to hide her giggle.
"It would seem so," she whispered.
"Should we wait for them, or—?" They both jumped back as Nino pushed through the door, his hand gripping his wife's. Both of their faces were flushed from exertion.
"Sorry about that," Nino said sheepishly.
"I'm not," Alya grinned as Nino's face deepened several shades.
"I'm glad you two had a very constructive meeting," Ladybug eyes Alya, who bit her lip to suppress her laughter.
"We'll be heading home now," Nino said, hurriedly, pulling his wife behind him as she twiddled her fingers goodbye. Then they were gone, leaving Ladybug and Chat Noir in the hallway alone. They gazed at each other. There had been a lot of that this evening. Ladybug bit her lip before reaching out and flicking off a conveniently-placed light switch, plunging them into near-darkness. He could barely see her, let alone her mask.
She crept closer, sliding one hand over his shoulder and, with the other, pulling him down by his tie to whisper in his ear.
"I drove here myself. Meet you at home?" Instead of replying, he scooped her up into a kiss, walking forward until her back hit the wall. She gasped against his lips as he pressed her there.
After a few minutes, they broke apart, bodies remaining close.
"You'd better beat me home. I can't play this game anymore, Princess," he purred against her neck. He could almost hear her grin in the darkness.
"But you were doing so well, minou," she cooed back. He bit lightly against her neck in retribution.
"You keep teasing me like this, and we'll never leave this hallway."
"Then I'll see you at home," she murmured before escaping his grip and rushing back to the bar. Adrien sighed contentedly, standing there for a moment before pushing off the wall and exiting the hallway too, his hands in his pockets. He nodded to Rose, who stood nearby, before pushing out the door into the cold night air and breathing it in.
Buon Dio, he was in love.
The next morning, Marinette began her usual drive to the Boulangerie Patisserie. She felt a little odd about keeping up the charade with Adrien. Their morning and evening schedule had remained the same, but there was certainly a kind of amused humor in their habits now. Everything was out in the open, but she didn't want things to change. It felt nice to compartmentalize these aspects of her life; she'd been doing it for so long after all. Perhaps it wasn't sustainable, but she'd let that come naturally.
Until then, it was quite enjoyable teasing her husband. He'd been reluctant to leave that morning, citing a disease of infatuation. She'd just laughed and reminded him a crime syndicate couldn't run itself, after all. Once he'd left, she'd gotten ready for the day and departed too, locking the doors behind her.
Traffic wasn't too terrible that morning, she was pleased to see. It was a short drive to the patisserie. As she pulled near it, she intended to continue and park a few blocks away when she noticed a scuffle in the alleyway. Squinting, her senses tingling, it took her a moment to register what was going on in the shadows. A shot of horror ran through her as she saw Wang Fu being restrained and forced into a nondescript black vehicle.
She wanted to scream. This must be Papillon's doing. He had found out. She quickly registered that they had entered traffic and were driving away. Without forethought, Marinette kicked her car into gear behind them.
Her mind raced. She couldn't arouse suspicion. If they thought they were being tailed, she was dead. He was dead. She tried to relax her shoulders, her hands on the wheel, and she stared the vehicle down. Thank goodness she wasn't wearing her mask; she could be anyone.
Allowing the slightest bit of distance to fall between them, she tailed them cautiously. They were driving toward the northeastern side of Paris, and it was taking a while. Marinette desperately hoped they had not noticed her. She was careful to fall behind them, far enough away that there were other cars between them.
As they drove further away from the section of Paris she was most familiar with, the car turned into a slow, residential street. She watched as they entered an almost hidden driveway, stopping to talk to someone at the gate before pulling forward. From all the foliage and the vastness of the property, she couldn't catch a glimpse of the home itself, but she was sure; this was the headquarters of Papillon. It had to be.
She parked a couple of streets over, staring at the gate. What was she supposed to do now? She was far away from headquarters, far away from home. If she tried to get help, it could take an hour, possibly more. She didn't have access to a telephone, and they were in such a secluded, residential area, there couldn't possibly be a phone booth nearby. On top of that, her Family was stretched very thin at the moment. Juleka and Luka were in hiding, Mylene and Ivan were out of the country, celebrating their honeymoon. Zoe had left Paris the week before, back to the safehouse. Alya had the day off, and even if Marinette ran to go get her, the Lahiffes' home was further away than her own. That left Rose, who was at the jazz club twenty minutes away, Jagged, and a few of their associates.
There was no one. And time was ticking.
Slowly, Marinette popped open the glovebox, revealing a pistol hidden there. She grabbed it, checking that it was loaded. She already had one pistol strapped to her thigh underneath her dress, as well as her dagger. She contemplated the gun in her hand, rotating and inspecting it. She was thinking deeply, wondering if it was better to be over-armed or more mobile.
Deciding quickly, she stowed the first gun back in the glovebox and removed her daygloves. Stowing her keys in her brassiere, where they wouldn't make any noise, she left her car unlocked and crept quickly to the house to the left of Papillon's. She crept around the yard, eyeing the dense trees to her right, which were obscuring her view of the house.
Acting quickly, she jumped the fence and dodged into the foliage, keeping low. As her eyes adjusted, she inched forward, closer and closer to the house to inspect what kind of security she would be dealing with.
The car she'd seen Fu forced into was parked near her. From the looks of it, no one was inside. She looked to her right, staring at the guard post. The large man there seemed to be the only one outside. She continued around the house, staying well-hidden in the trees. Evidently, they helped Papillon maintain a low profile, but it was also keeping her from prying eyes.
As she crept to the back of the house, she spotted an exterior basement door. This was the trouble now; she didn't know where they were keeping him. She knew from experience that the Agreste family kept their captives in the basement, and when they'd still been located in Fu's home, they'd done the same. It felt like a safe bet that an experienced mafioso like Papillon would do likewise.
She spotted the problem immediately, however. There was a lock on the outer wooden door. From the looks of it, it was quite old, and she had no lockpicking set on her. She'd need something to break it open. The easiest solution would be to shoot it, but that would make quite a loud noise, drawing attention. There were plenty of rocks around her she could use to smash it, which was looking like the most viable option, but noise was still an issue. What if she couldn't break it open on the first try?
She realized quickly there was no other solution. Searching around near her feet, she grabbed a large, rough stone and looked around the yard before jumping out and pressing against the back side of the wall. There was a door only feet away on the perpendicular side of the house, so she had to move quickly. Grasping the lock, she raised the stone over her head and brought it down hard.
She heard a substantial crack, but it hadn't snapped open. Cursing silently, she hit it once more, relieved when she saw the lock come loose in her hand. Fumbling, she dropped the stone to the side, pulled the broken lock off the doors, and swung one side open, stepping quickly onto the stairs below and shutting the doors quietly above her. She was plunged into darkness, but she had no time to let her eyes adjust.
Feeling around, she grasped the knob of a door. Praying it wasn't locked, she pushed against it gently. Thankfully, it wasn't, but it was old. It creaked as she pushed it open. Wincing, she stepped forward and left it cracked. She appeared to be in some kind of storage room. Dust filtered through the air as she realized the room was full of boxes, equipment, ladders, and paint cans. She saw a door at the far end of the room, but there were so many things between her and it, making noise was inevitable.
Taking a breath to slow her pulse, she inspected the floor around her. Sticking her gun back in its hidden holster, she hiked up her skirts and began creeping through. She had to jump over several stacks of things, but in the months and years of heading a crime family, her athleticism was at an all-time high. Quickly, she arrived at the door. There was a light on beyond it, but this was no time for hesitation.
Gripping her pistol in her hand, she ducked down and pulled the door open, revealing a well-lit, but empty hallway. Many of the doors were cracked open, offices for caporegimes. Her heart pounded, but no one seemed to be around. The door snapped shut behind her, and she walked forward on the balls of her feet to keep her heels from clicking against the cement floor.
There was a door at the end of the hallway. It felt more solitary than the others, and it had a lock on the outside; a dead giveaway. Walking up to it, she was delighted to see a key left in the lock. She turned it, wincing at the inner thud it made. She swung the door open and dodged inside, pulling it closed behind her with hardly a sound.
And there he was, tied to a chair in the center of the room. His eyes widened as he spotted her as she crept closer and untied his gag, crouching down and quickly getting to work on his other restraints.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed quietly.
"I'm getting you out of here," she hissed back. He rubbed his wrists as the ropes fell away. She began on his ankles. "My car is only a few blocks away. We just need to get back out of their storage room and to the thicket of trees. We'll be fine." His ankle restraints were proving more difficult, and she cursed under her breath.
"Please tell me you brought backup?" he said, standing as the last of his restraints fell away. Marinette stood with him, a guilty look on her face. "Ladybug, you didn't do this alone, did you?" His tone begged her to contradict him, but she couldn't. Before she could respond, they heard a quiet noise on the other side of the door.
Marinette whipped around, gun trained on the man who had just entered. Thankfully, her training kept her arms up, but her brain stuttered to a halt as she stared into the face of Gabriel Agreste. He looked down at her, an expression of faint surprise there.
"My, my. I can't say I expected this." He spoke, his tone cool. "Does Adrien know?"
"Asks the man he thinks is dead," Marinette spat. A magma-like anger was beginning to boil inside of her. Gabriel Agreste, the father of her husband, her father-in-law, presumed dead, was behind all of this. He had kidnapped Chloe. He had framed her. He had been lying to his son for years and even had the audacity to allow him to believe he was gone forever. Marinette hadn't forgotten the sadness in her husband's voice when he'd told her. He had been a vacant man for several days, mourning a blood relationship that turned out to be unreciprocated.
And now he'd kidnapped her consigliere.
"What Adrien doesn't know can't hurt him," Gabriel said simply, staring down the barrel of her gun.
"You don't care if he's hurt. If you did, you wouldn't have faked your disappearance in the first place right after the death of Emilie," She replied.
"Don't you dare utter her name in the presence of her murderer," Gabriel's tone had grown to fury. Wang Fu raised his arms in defence.
"Monsieur Agreste, I had nothing to do with her death. If I knew who killed her, I would've ordered their immediate assassination, I promise you. Emilie was an honored member of cosa nostra, I would never have agreed to—"
"SILENCE," Gabriel yelled. "I don't want to hear your excuses." He took a breath, turning his gaze back to Marinette. "You've made this far more difficult than it needs to be. If you had just allowed me to go about my business, I wouldn't have to kill you."
"I'm the one with the gun here," she spoke, her tone irritated to an intense degree.
"Ah, you are quite right," Gabriel said, eyebrow raised. Before she could even blink, he'd kicked the gun out of her hand, not before she could release the trigger, however. She saw the bullet hit his shoulder and the spray of blood hit the back wall, but it didn't matter. He'd gotten the gun.
She took a few steps back, hands in the air as he hissed in pain, gripping her gun.
"You'll pay for that, Dupain-Cheng," he gritted, clutching his shoulder.
"It's Agreste, actually," she responded coolly. He smiled, but there was no humor in it.
"Correct again." He straightened, pointing the gun at Fu, who stood there much too calmly for Marinette's taste. "Let me tell you what is going to happen now. I'm going to shoot your consigliere. I'll hide the evidence; no one need know he ever existed. Few do, these days. As for you, I'm willing to bet anything that Adrien is completely unaware of your little day job. I can't let you go knowing I'm alive; that'll ruin my entire plan to run both your families into the ground and take back Paris for myself. So I'm going to kill you too and frame the family Coccinelle. How's that sound?" He said, looking back and forth between them.
Marinette's blood was boiling, a strange sensation when she wasn't even sure her heart was beating.
"You're wrong," she said, her voice dangerously low. "Adrien does know about my 'little day job'. And if you kill me, he'll spend every waking second hunting you down." Gabriel watched her, his eyes narrowing with every word. He sighed, sounding more inconvenienced than anything.
"Then I'll just have to kill him too." His voice lacked any kind of remorse, and Marinette couldn't hold herself back anymore.
Several things happened in quick succession. Marinette jumped at Gabriel, dagger drawn in her right hand. Gabriel turned, firing his gun not at Fu, but at her. Fu, insightful as he was, had jumped just in time.
Marinette screamed as Fu fell to the ground, blood seeping from his chest, but she hadn't stopped moving. Gabriel blocked the knife with his bad arm, screaming from pain, which was just the distraction Marinette needed. She snatched the gun from him and knocked him to the ground.
She turned quickly to check on Fu, but his eyes had already gone glassy, his face streaked with blood, and the floor seeping with it. Tears drawing in her eyes, she tore a bracelet from off his wrist and sprinted from the room, leaving behind the body of the man who had taught her everything and the groaning, crumpled figure of her father-in-law.
This was not a time to be discreet. Several gunshots had gone off by now, and going through the storage room would take too much time. She raced up the stairs, dodging to the left as she struggled to remember the outward appearance of the home. She heard Gabriel yelling from downstairs, incomprehensible to her in her addled state, but she knew it meant others would be joining her soon enough. She managed to locate the door she'd seen from the outside and threw it open, stumbling as she hit the grass. Her heart jumped to her throat as she saw a figure just in front of her.
She raised the gun in her hand without thinking, but stopped short as she realized who she was looking at.
Chloe Bourgeois stared at her, jaw hanging open, clutching a manila folder of papers. She looked well enough. Uninjured. Marinette gaped back at her, covered in dust and the blood of two different people.
"Give me your gun," Chloe said suddenly.
"What?" Marinette said, dumbly.
"Just do it," Chloe said, hand outstretched. "Trust me." Her heart pounded as she surrendered her weapon. Chloe dropped her folder, papers falling all around them in the grass. "Now run."
And Marinette did. She ran straight back into the thicket and heard as Chloe fired a couple shots off into the trees to her right. She heard yells coming from the house, but Chloe kept shooting off in the wrong direction. Without skipping a beat, Marinette jumped the fence, her lungs in stitches as she sprinted back to her car.
She jumped in, turning the ignition and roaring off. She could hardly process what had just happened as she hit Paris traffic. She couldn't even bring herself to cry. She went numb as she drove, falling into a pattern she knew well. She was unsure of the amount of time that had passed by the time she pulled into the Lahiffes' driveway.
Turning off the car, she got out, dusting herself off before snatching up her coat, gloves, and purse. Pulling her mask from her purse, she donned it carefully, grasping at the momentary comfort it brought her. She walked up the steps to the front door and pushed it open, not even bothering to knock.
The place was a whirl with mafiosos going about their business, talking and discussing ventures and plans, but they stopped as she entered. She must've been quite a sight. Ignoring the eyes trained on her, she maneuvered quickly through them and ascended the stairs as gracefully as she could muster.
She didn't knock as she entered Chat Noir's office. He sat at his desk, Nino stooped over, inspecting a map splayed out before them. Chat stopped mid-sentence, staring at her in a way he never had before. Nino swivelled and came to an abrupt stop, his expression frozen in shock. Ladybug cleared her throat.
"Chat Noir," she said, her voice steady. "I'm visiting on business."
Notes:
Here's Marinette's dress, the one that almost killed Adrien: The Dress
Chapter 12: Ferita
Chapter Text
"What kind of business?" He asked, his expression slow. Nino quickly grabbed the maps and graphs from off the table, stuffing them away as the subject matter changed. He approached Ladybug and offered to take her coat. She obliged, revealing in totality the blood and dust that had betided her adventures that morning. Chat remained behind his desk, fingertips pressed together, glancing at her up and down. Not in a seductive way, it felt more like a medical inspection to ensure she was alright. And she was. For now.
"I have news about Papillon," she said, playing with something on her wrist. She looked down and realized that at some point in the last hour, she'd put on Wang's bracelet. There was a small turtle charm there, and she began to tear up before looking back up at Chat Noir, who wore a very concerned expression.
"Would you like a moment to clean yourself up?" He asked, kindly.
"No," Ladybug said firmly. "This is much too important to wait." She took a breath and steeled herself. "Papillon kidnapped my consigliere. I followed them, broke into his headquarters, and he killed him in front of me. I barely got out with my life."
"You went in alone?" Chat Noir's tone had changed with one sentence. The usual casual bravado he carried as a mafia don had all but left him, and suddenly, Ladybug saw Adrien in a mask.
"Yes," Ladybug responded, watching his eyes. "We'll discuss that later, sweetheart." She whispered. He bit the inside of his cheek, but nodded and collected himself.
"Go on."
"My consigliere was M. Wang Fu, I'm sure you recognize the name." Chat Noir's eyebrows rose in surprise.
"The Capo di Capi?" He spoke incredulously.
"The very same. Papillon has been searching for him for a very long time." Ladybug found her voice suddenly stuck as she tried desperately to move on to the next, and arguably most important reason she was here. Her throat closed against her will, and she struggled to speak, watching Chat's brow furrow.
"You must've found out Papillon's identity. You saw him," he said slowly, looking at her curiously.
"Yes," she managed to choke out. She felt the gaze of the two men on her, brimming with excitement at this news.
"...Well?" Nino asked, unable to hold himself back. Ladybug's lips parted, but no sound came out. Her eyes were locked onto Chat's, his curiosity and excitement fizzling as he realized just how much she was struggling. This was going to break his heart.
"Ladybug?" Chat inquired, nothing but care in his tone. She had to say it. She had to. She felt it rise in her throat, the pressure close to bursting. "Please—"
"Gabriel Agreste," she burst out, the thought unfinished. There it was. Out in the open. She took a breath
Chat Noir froze, his expression swimming in confusion.
"What about him?" It was a loaded question. He was pleading with her. This couldn't mean what he thought it meant, and he was begging for her to clarify in any way that wouldn't break him.
"Gabriel Agreste is Papillon," she said, her voice stronger now. She had to be strong for the both of them at the moment. Chat seemed to shrink. He buried his head in his hands, unmoving. Nino stepped to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "After the death of Emilie Agreste, Gabriel went into hiding. He lied and said that he'd fled the country, but he had not. He suspected M. Fu as the one who authorized her assassination and created the Family Papillon to pursue his vendetta under an alias."
Chat had not moved.
"He must have discovered Fu was working for me recently. I witnessed his kidnap, followed them to the headquarters of Papillon, and broke in. There, Gabriel confronted us. He planned to kill me and blame it on the Family Coccinelle, but when I informed him you knew my identity, he said he'd kill us both and take back Paris."
"He tried to kill you?" Chat whispered, his head slowly raising back up to meet her.
"Yes. I only managed to escape because of Mlle. Chloe Bourgeois. She allowed me to flee."
"Chloe? Is she okay? What did she say to you?" Chat had leapt to his feet, his hands planted on the desk in front of him.
"She is perfectly well," Ladybug assured him. "She looked uninjured, and she was carrying a lot of papers. I theorize that she is working for him. Whether willingly or not, I do not know. We did not have time to speak, but she took my gun and led those who were chasing me off in the wrong direction. I likely would not be here if it weren't for her help."
"Wait," Nino spoke up, and Ladybug turned her attention to him. "You said he threatened to kill you both?"
"Yes," Ladybug nodded. "He knows that I know his identity now. Killing me is the only way to clean up that mess. As for Adrien, I— I told him that if he killed me, Chat Noir would never rest until he'd avenged me."
"Too right," Chat said, his tone dark.
"...So he said he'd kill him too." Ladybug swallowed. Nino's expression rose with concern and fear.
"You need to flee," he said.
"Absolutely not," Chat said, turning toward him.
"Both of your lives are at risk. Papillon knows everything there is to know about you and about the Family Agreste. There is no hiding from him." Nino insisted.
"He's not going to try immediately," Chat reasoned. "He is a man of planning. We have a couple days at least."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Nino replied. "What does he need to plan? He knows where you live. He's not about to follow Omertà; he hasn't been this whole time."
"I do think hiding is the best course of action," Ladybug spoke up. Chat whipped around to her, about to protest, but she just raised a hand to calm him. "But we don't have any resources. We can't use Agreste connections; he knows every avenue you have. My Family is unfortunately spread quite thin at the moment, and Mlle. Bourgeois knows the location of our most secure safehouse. We have nowhere to flee to."
Nino looked stumped, furious about the fact.
"I say we take the chance," Chat insisted. Nino dragged his tongue along his teeth, obviously unhappy.
"Fine. You can stay in your home tonight," he relented. "But we're stationing soldiers around it. I'll not have you sleeping like sitting ducks."
"Thank you, Nino. We accept those terms," Ladybug agreed. Chat raised an eyebrow at her, questioningly, but she ignored him.
"Fantastic," Nino replied, somewhat bitterly. "I'll go speak with the capos; we'll have to coordinate this whole thing." He made to leave, but turned to Ladybug first and gripped her hands in his. "I'm glad you're okay," he murmured. She smiled at him and rose to kiss his cheek.
"Thank you for all your help," she whispered back. He nodded and left the room, leaving Chat Noir and Ladybug alone in the office. They gazed at each other for a moment before Chat approached, rounding the desk between them. He lifted a hand to her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. She closed her eyes, momentarily soothed. She felt him gently remove her mask.
"Are you alright?" he murmured.
"I will be." Emotion rose in her throat as she played back the events of that night. The spray of blood. The steaks on his face. His eyes, dull, wide— Hers flew open to see Adrien, her husband, watching her carefully.
"Kiss me," she whispered. And he did. He pulled her close and held her tenderly as her breath grew ragged.
"I'll keep you safe," he said it just to her.
"I know," she responded. They stood there for a moment, holding each other close. She leaned back a bit, inspecting his face. "How are you feeling?" He avoided her gaze.
"I'm fine," he said shortly.
"No lies now," she said, reaching for his jaw and turning him to look at her. "Are you alright?"
"I will be," he said, a faint humor in his voice. Marinette nodded, slowly.
"I'm sorry he lied to you." Adrien could only shrug, his voice failing him. "I shot him, you know." Adrien's brows rose at this announcement.
"Did you?"
"In the shoulder," she replied, nonchalantly. He pursed his lips, subtly impressed.
"Well then," he said. "Maybe you'll be the one keeping me safe." She laughed; perhaps the first time all day.
Just then, the door burst open to reveal a very frazzled Alya. Her eyes filled with tears as she spotted Marinette in the middle of the room.
"You look terrible," she choked out.
"I'm sure I do," Marinette responded, a soft smile on her face. Alya ran to her and hugged her tightly, her tears wet against Marinette's neck.
"Nino told me what happened," she whispered. "Is Fu really— dead?"
"He is," Marinette managed. Her throat threatened to close tight again, but Alya squeezed her tighter. After a moment, she let go. She turned to Adrien.
"I'm sorry to hear your father's a louse." He let out a short laugh, more of surprise than anything else.
"Me too," he said, leaning against the desk. "But I always knew what he was capable of. Without mother, he's got no heart. He wants Paris because he feels like it'll bring her back in a way, the memory of her at least. And I'm just an obstacle in his path." He said it so matter-of-factly, it almost broke Marinette's heart. She reached for his hand, and he gave her a quiet smile.
"Well," Alya breathed, gathering herself and placing her hands on her hips, all business now. "We're not going to let him get to you."
"You've been working with Nino?" Marinette asked. Alya nodded in response.
"Don't you worry. Your underbosses have the perfect plan."
"You let her get away," Gabriel's voice was cold, colder than she'd ever heard it.
"I tried my best, but she is quite agile," Chloe responded, her tone clipped.
"How did you get her gun?" He asked, gesturing at the item on the desk, wincing only slightly. His wound had been carefully patched up, a bandage wrapped across his chest and around his shoulder underneath his dress shirt. Chloe could see the outline. He couldn't wear a suit jacket at the moment; they didn't dare risk straining the injury. If she got out of this alive, she'd have to compliment Marinette on her aim. To think, she'd been Ladybug this whole time...
"When she ran outside, I managed to knock her down. She dropped her gun, and we scuffled for a bit. She managed to get a good kick to my chest, and I lost my breath. She took that as an opportunity to get away, but she'd left the pistol. Once I regained my breath, I tried to shoot after her, but she was already in the trees."
"Useless," he muttered under his breath. "What use are you if you let our most important prisoner just escape?"
"You forget. I'm a lawyer, not a soldier. I am untrained with a gun." She lied easily. It was like second-nature to her now. She'd blown her shot to escape now that Fu was officially dead. Her use to Papillon was waning quickly, and they both knew it. She didn't even flinch as he raised the gun from the table and fiddled with it for a moment before pointing it at her head.
"Tell me why I shouldn't dispose of you right now?" He asked, calmly. Chloe eyed the gun, but maintained her composure.
"Because I'm the only bait you have to lure Adrien here."
"I'm sending assassins after him. I have no need for bait." He cocked the gun, but still she didn't move.
"And if that plan fails? You forget the tenacity of the people we're dealing with." Gabriel didn't speak, but he eyed her carefully.
"Are you loyal to me?" He asked.
"No," she didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger, and a bullet buried itself in the wall next to her head.
"Are you loyal to me?" He asked again, his tone grave.
"If I have to be," she responded. Another bullet shot into the wall on the other side of her head.
"Last chance: Are you loyal to me?" Gabriel asked. The gun was trained right between her eyes. Still, she stared him down.
"I don't want to die. Is that enough?" she asked. Her voice hardly trembled. Gabriel's lips were pursed as he gazed at her, his eyes narrowed. Chloe's heart was in her throat, but her expression didn't change. Slowly, he lowered the gun.
"I suppose. For now," he said. Chloe didn't dare relax. "Go home. I don't want to see you for the rest of the day." With that, she left the room and practically sprinted to her office. Once there, her nerves finally got the best of her. Her legs gave way, and she sank to the floor, shaking. No tears rose to her eyes, but she was unsteady: Emotionally and physically.
She heard someone enter the room, and she already knew who it was.
"I'm fine, Felix," she said shakily.
"You don't look fine," he said, leaning against her desk. His awkward presence soothed her.
"Yeah, well. At least I don't have a hole in my head." She replied.
"I'm very glad you don't," he said delicately. "I heard the gunshots. You're braver than me."
"I don't know about that," she said.
"I do." He said it softly, like a confession. "Come home with me. I'll make you dinner." He offered her his hand.
"I can't do that," she said, gripping his outstretched hand and getting to her feet.
"Fine. I'll cook dinner at your apartment."
"Absolutely not." Chloe shook her head vehemently, but Felix just reached to her desk and grabbed her clutch.
"I insist."
As Felix drove her home in her own car, her nerves began to calm down. While the meeting with Papillon had certainly been terrifying, Chloe had known the risk she was taking when she saved Marinette. She knew he would be reluctant to accept her story, whether or not she had been telling the truth.
They arrived at her apartment fairly quickly, too quickly for Chloe's liking. As they ascended the steps to her apartment, she fiddled with the keys. How was she supposed to explain all the packed boxes? She inserted the key and twisted, hearing the now familiar click. Taking a breath, she pushed through the door, Felix on her heels.
She walked forward and flipped on the light, tossing her keys on the kitchen counter and pulling open the fridge. Felix had remained near the door, hands in his pockets, looking around at her sparse apartment, everything packed up so neatly.
"You haven't unpacked?" He asked curiously. Chloe just hmmed noncommittally.
"You're packing." It wasn't a question that time. She continued to ignore him and scoured her equally sparse fridge. Felix just nodded slowly before joining her at the fridge. "I said I'd cook dinner for you."
"So you did," she said, standing upright. "You'll have to be creative." She warned, taking a step back to allow Felix a look. He hmmed, closing the fridge and looking around in her cabinets.
"How about some carbonara?" He asked, getting out all the ingredients. Spaghetti, eggs, pecorino.
"I don't have any guanciale," Chloe pointed out.
"You have bacon," Felix said, holding up the half package.
"So I do," she smiled. As unusual as he was, she was able to relax around him. They weren't exactly friends, but she felt comfortable calling them allies. They were just trying to survive.
He pulled out a pot and began filling it with water before setting it on the stove. She listened to the crackle as it lit, and he got to work chopping the bacon.
"Where are you from?" Chloe spoke up. Felix shot her a funny look. "Just trying to start a conversation." She raised her hands in surrender. He snorted.
"London."
"How long have you worked with Papillon?" Chloe asked after another beat of silence.
"Since its inception," he said.
"Really? I wasn't aware Papillon employed amateurs," she teased.
"I'm not an amateur," he raised an eyebrow, but she caught his faint smirk.
"You never worked for Agreste," Chloe said, incredulously. "Where were you employed? I wasn't aware Britain had much of a mafia scene."
The water had begun boiling, and Felix added the spaghetti and some salt.
"I wasn't employed in Britain. I was in China with the Tsurugi Triad, mostly." Chloe half-laughed, her expression incredulous.
"Kagami?"
"Mlle. Kagami never officially worked for the Tsurugi Triad, but her mother, Tomoe, ran it for many years before it dissolved." Felix explained lightly, as though discussing the weather. "I didn't work exclusively for her, however. There were many triads in China interested in my skill set."
"Which is?" Chloe inquired. Her interest was growing by the minute.
"Thievery," he winked at her.
"But what made you come here and work for Papillon?" She asked, watching him begin to cook the bacon.
"The Tsurugi Traid dissolved around seven years ago. Kagami was quickly making a name for herself as one of the best assassins in China, but made more enemies than allies. She was only eighteen then. Tomoe decided to relocate to France, as she had been assisting the Agreste family for years at that point as an associate. Upon the death of Emilie Agreste, she contacted me and offered me a place in the Family Papillon on Gabriel's behalf." He shrugged. "It was a good deal. I got to return to Europe, and it came with a more reliable payout than my thief-for-hire opportunities. Plus, he's family."
"...Sorry?" Chloe stuttered.
"Gabriel is my uncle." He said, with a short smile. "You don't see the family resemblance?"
"Now I do," she blinked, shaking her head. "How did I not know that?"
"I don't try to spread it around. You couldn't have known, since you're so new, but because I've been here since the beginning, most members already assumed."
"I'm so foolish," Chloe laughed. She watched as Felix cracked two eggs and began grating the pecorino before beating them together. He added a cup of the pasta water and continued stirring before draining the pasta and mixing everything.
"Where are your dishes?" He inquired. She pointed at the cupboard behind his head. He grabbed two shallow bowls and began plating the carbonara. Chloe was quietly very grateful he'd offered to cook for her. After such a distressing day, she wasn't sure she could've brought herself to eat anything if she'd had to cook it herself.
There were no chairs for the kitchen bar, so they stood as they ate the meal silently. Even with the bacon replacement, it was a very good carbonara. Felix finished rather quickly and set his bowl down in the sink.
"How did you get involved in the business?" He asked. She raised an eyebrow, mouth full of pasta. "What, I'm not allowed to ask questions?" She rolled her eyes and swallowed her food.
"Adrien. Well, not really. My mother has been involved for a very long time, both in America and France. It was quite the scandal when my father became mayor of Paris. They'd only divorced a few years before." She went silent for a moment. "My family had long been friends with the Agrestes. I've known Adrien since we were born. I just grew up around it. I never really wanted to be a part of the mafia, but it was the only thing I really had a knack for. I lied to myself, even while I was studying criminal law.
"Mother always wanted me to work for Gabriel, but I— I couldn't. When Emilie died, Adrien came to me, and I couldn't refuse. We were childhood friends, after all." There was no bitterness in her tone. "And I do enjoy it. I can't lie to myself any longer; I'm very good at this." Felix laughed.
"I have to agree," he nodded. "So let me ask you: Why are you still here?"
"Felix—"
"No, really. You're bright. You're obviously prepared to leave." He gestured to the boxes around them. "Why haven't you?"
"If Ladybug hadn't shown up, I'd already be gone," she whispered. Felix surveyed her, his eyes lacking the amusement from before. They stood there for a moment, unmoving. Unspeaking.
"You'll get your chance," Felix whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she couldn't meet his eyes. His hand slipped from her shoulder as he brushed past her to the door. She didn't turn, staying rooted, staring at her kitchen floor. "Be ready when it comes." She almost didn't hear as he shut the door behind him.
Gunfire had become quite commonplace in Marinette's life, but rarely did she wake from the sound of it. Her muscle memory jumped into gear as she heard Adrien cry out in pain and fall against the bed beside her, the sound of a revolver hitting the ground. Never before had she moved so quickly as she pulled the gun out from under her pillow, dropped to the floor, and shot at the dark figure in their bedroom doorway. The figure dropped to the floor, limbs falling limp.
She crouched there for a moment, allowing her brain time to catch up and watching the body on her floor for any sign of movement. There was none. She caught her breath and promptly lost it again as Adrien groaned quietly.
"Adrien?" She crawled across the bed to him.
"Mari...mar—" She couldn't see anything in the dark.
"Sweetheart," she said desperately. He seemed unlikely to respond. Buon Dio, it was too dark; she couldn't see a thing, but she didn't dare to turn on a light. She ran her hand down his torso and felt for something sticky and warm. There it was. She pressed her hand against it, applying pressure, stopping the seeping blood with her palm. She heard a faint moan from Adrien, but he quickly fell silent.
She heard another gunshot, outside this time. The soldiers. Marinette positioned herself on the bed, hand still applying pressure to Adrien's wound, gun pointed toward the open doorway. She sat there for what felt like hours, the darkness pressing in on her as she listened to her husband's breath grow shorter, quieter.
Her gun-raised arm grew tired, but she didn't let it shake. Her eyes kept imagining things in the dark. Terrible shapes that played out her worst fears. The body on the floor lay cold and still, but did nothing to soothe her nerves. Where was everyone?
Just as her arm started to shake from the strain, she heard footsteps on the stairs.
"Identify yourself!" She yelled. The steps froze.
"Nino Lahiffe!" The voice called back. Relief flooded her veins.
"Codeword," she requested, her heart pounding.
"Carapace," he replied.
"Adrien's been shot," she said, her voice far more steady than she expected. She heard the steps resume, far quicker this time. The dark figure of Nino entered.
"May I turn on the light?" He asked.
"Yes," she replied. A click sounded as light flooded the room. Her eyes took a moment to adjust. She heard Nino inspect the body on the floor.
"Right between the eyes," he commented. "Your doing?" He'd already moved away from the body and joined her side, checking Adrien's pulse. She could only nod in response. He moved away again to call down the stairs. "I need a medic! NOW!" She heard a mad scramble from downstairs as Nino returned to her side. "I'm going to rip this," he said, gesturing at the bedsheet. Marinette again, could only nod. She heard the easy rip from beside her. "Move your hand, please." She relented and felt as Nino shifted Adrien's body and secured the strip of cloth over the wound. Adrien barely made a sound. Her bloodied hand hovered for a moment before returning to his abdomen. She felt for his light breathing.
"You can drop the gun now, Mari," Nino said quietly.
"What?" She responded, her mind still cloudy.
"The gun. In your hand. You've been pointing it at the doorway this whole time." He took it gently from her hand. "You're in shock." He said as her arm slowly returned to her side. She shook her head slowly.
"No..." She said, slowly. Her eyes were still trained on the doorway.
Nino was saying something. It sounded important, but she couldn’t quite hear it. He grasped her under the arm and pulled her to the bathroom, rinsing her blood-soaked hand under the sink. The cold temperature lit her nerves on fire. She ripped her hand from Nino's grasp and launched herself forward, where a stranger was leaning over her husband.
"Don't touch him!" She screamed. The stranger turned around, alarmed. Nino grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back, restraining her as she fought his grip.
"Mari, it’s the doctor," Nino grunted. "She's in shock. I'll take her downstairs." She struggled the whole way down, cursing and hitting him. She got him good a few times, but he didn't loosen his hold. He forced her onto the couch and sat beside her, gripping her upper arm. Her fury didn't last long as the energy seeped out of her. She sank against Nino and began to cry. He rubbed her arm and whispered things she couldn't really hear.
"Marinette?" she heard a new voice. "Darling, I'm here now."
"Alya," Marinete sobbed, wrapping her arms around her familiar shape. She buried her face in her neck and drifted in and out of conscious thought. She heard Alya and Nino talking in hushed tones, somewhere above her.
"—Damocles. He's a hired assassin..."
"Between the eyes?"
"Mm-hm..."
"—outside?"
"Jean Armand. Confirmed soldier of Papillon..."
"—the doctor is upstairs."
"He'll be alright?"
"He's doing everything he can,"
"But he'll be okay, right?"
Marinette didn't catch the last part before she fully drifted off, her mind completely overwhelmed.
Adrien lay unconscious in the guest room of the Lahiffe household. Marinette sat in a chair next to him, her hand in his. She had not gotten much sleep in the last twenty-four hours, despite Alya's insistence. She watched her husband carefully.
He'd been bandaged most expertly, and the doctor had informed them he was very likely to recover; his body had just entered an extreme rest state as it worked to heal and restore his blood loss. He came to check up on him every six hours or so, changing the bandages and attempting to feed him broth.
Adrien had been shot in the abdomen, and he'd lost quite a bit of blood, but the bullet had missed all the essential organs. The doctor had managed to extract the bullet in one piece. One warped piece, and then stitched him up. He'd be on bed rest for two to three weeks, but it would take two months or more to fully recover. Even after that, the doctor had informed her there would be muscle pain and stiffness for up to six months.
Adrien was going to be furious.
Just then, Nino entered the room. He and Alya had been popping in every once and a while, coaxing Marinette to eat. She tried her best, but she couldn't hold much at the moment. He stood behind her, hands in his pockets.
"What did the doctor say?" He asked, looking down at his friend.
"He should wake up within the hour, and we should try to make him eat something when he does," she said quietly. Her voice was growing hoarse from all her crying.
"Alya's making egg drop soup at the moment," he responded.
"That'll be perfect." She nodded. The conversation paused as they both watched Adrien's slow but steady breath.
"How are you faring?" Nino asked. She had known he'd ask.
"I'll be a lot better when he wakes up." He just nodded.
"I thought I'd inform you, we've organized a cover story for everything. Your neighbors heard gunshots, and it helped explain away the bodies."
"How—?"
"Officer Roger Raincomprix has been working for us for a while now." Marinette shot him an incredulous look. "I know, I know, but he was loyal to Gabriel before us, and it's convenient to have a dirty cop working for you. He's on a tight leash, though; we don't trust him completely. Right now, he's leading law enforcement on a wild goose chase."
"They don't assume it has something to do with Chat Noir, since it happened at our house?" Marinette asked, her tone doubtful.
"I'm sure they're a little suspicious, but let's just say, the bodies weren't found at your house, so you had nothing to do with it." Nino winked at her. Before she could respond, she felt Adrien's hand squeeze in hers. She whipped around, raising her other hand to caress his brow.
"Adrien? Darling?" He groaned a bit. "Adrien, sweetheart, it's Marinette. You're safe, wake up. Please wake up, Minou," she murmured, squeezing his hand back.
It took a minute or two, but slowly, Adrien opened his eyes, blinking in the light.
"Marinette?" He spoke her name so softly.
"I'm here, Adrien. I'm right here."
"I feel dead," he groaned, trying to adjust himself in the bed.
"Not quite," Nino grinned down at him. "The doctor said you shouldn't try to move, you'll pull the stitches."
"Stitches?" Adrien asked, as Marinette positioned a few extra pillows behind his head to prop him up.
"You got shot, dear," she supplied. Adrien groaned again, not from pain this time but from frustration.
"You're kidding."
"I'm afraid not." Marinette smiled and kissed his forehead.
"You missed," he grumbled. She laughed and kissed him on the lips.
"Better?"
"Much," he grinned up at her.
"Your wife is quite the shot, I have to say," Nino spoke up.
"Oh, really?"
"Right between the eyes." Nino nodded. Adrien blinked.
"Damn. And I just had to get shot first."
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Nino said. Alya entered, carrying a tray of faintly steaming egg drop soup.
"You're awake!" She beamed when she saw Adrien leaning against the pillows.
"It's good to see you too, Alya." He smiled at her. "And I'm very excited about whatever smells so good on that tray." She brought it over to him and set it carefully on his lap.
"Be careful, it may be a little hot," she warned him. He took a very careful spoonful and closed his eyes, satisfied.
"Thank you, Alya," he said, gratefully.
"Of course," she smiled, just as relieved to see him awake and alert as everyone else, but she changed expression quickly. "Um, also... You have a visitor." All three heads swiveled to look at her.
"Who?" Marinette asked, but before she could explain, a tall, sharp-dressed man entered the room, a blue fedora rolling in his hands. His unusually blond hair lay slick against his head, styled most meticulously. Even in the doorframe, he had eyes for one person only. Adrien stared up at him in shock.
"Felix?"
Notes:
Love yall, I hope your midterms are alright
Chapter 13: Salvataggio
Notes:
Whaaaaaat? Felix in TWO beginning chapter fanart pieces????
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Hello, Adrien," Felix said, standing rooted near the door. Adrien gazed at him, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. The silence was barely permeable. Alya, Nino, and Marinette didn't quite know what to think, glancing at each other, faintly worried. Felix and Adrien only had eyes for each other. So much was running through Adrien's mind, all at once, he couldn't focus on a single thing.
"Kagami said you were still in China," he said, finally breaking the uneasy silence. Felix smiled, faintly.
"Her mother ensured she didn't know the truth." He sighed, steeling himself for the confession. "I've been working for Gabriel for the past three years." Adrien wanted to yell. To throw himself at his cousin and beat him within an inch of his life. Unfortunately, the bullet wound in his side and the soup on his lap prevented him from doing so. He settled for the most mutinous expression he could muster. Marinette gripped his hand tighter than before, eyes on Felix.
"Then what are you doing here?" He asked, his voice laced with a cold fury. "My dad send you to finish me off? Make it a true family affair?" Felix's expression hardened.
"I don't trust Papillon. I have never trusted Papillon," he hissed. "My employment was of mere convenience, nothing else." He relaxed incrementally, observing Adrien, drinking in his fury. "I came to offer a safehouse. I know you don't have many options, and I have a personal one Papillon is entirely unaware of." Adrien blinked in surprise. Nino's brow furrowed as he glanced at his wife, who looked equally suspicious.
"How do we know this isn't a trap?" Alya spoke up, chin angled up, eyes narrowed at the standing blond. He glanced at her as though noticing her presence for the first time.
"You don't," he said. "But I will confess I have an ulterior motive." Alya snorted, and he ignored it. "I want to get Chloe out."
"What do you care about Chloe?" Adrien asked. He was struggling to remain civil. The subject change to missing consigliere did little to ease his nerves. Felix hesitated, twisting the rim of his blue fedora in his hands.
"I care for Chloe a great deal," he said finally. "We have become friends, and she has recently revealed to me that she had planned to escape, but the surprise visit from Mme. Ladybug threw a wrench in her plans." He nodded to Marinette, who stiffened uncomfortably at his address. "Gabriel threatened to kill her for allowing you to escape. She convinced him to let her live, but I don't doubt he may still change his mind. I fear for her life."
Adrien sank against his pillows, staring at the wall in front of him. His wife's hand in his kept him grounded, but again, he didn't know what to think. He loved Felix. He did, but he hadn't seen him in nine years. His only memories were of their youth. Sure, he'd heard word of his exploits in China, but that did little to reassure him now. Felix wasn't really a liar. He was deceptive and naturally cunning, but Adrien couldn't help but believe him when he said he didn't trust Gabriel and that he cared for Chloe.
Really, what kind of convoluted plan would it be if Papillon was putting him to this? Offering them a safehouse, creating a plan to save Chloe, only for it all to turn out to be a trap. It was possible, but as Adrien looked into Felix's eyes, he doubted it.
"Where is this safehouse?" Adrien asked, ignoring the small gasp from Marinette beside him and the raised eyebrows of Nino. Felix relaxed his shoulders and smiled at Adrien, gratefully.
"Montreuil. It's disguised as a basement bookstore," he said.
"How soon can we get there?" Adrien looked to Nino this time. His lips were pursed, but he humored him.
"That doctor said you aren't to move for at least another two weeks," he replied with a grimace. Adrien rolled his eyes.
"Well, that's not going to work. We need to get to the safehouse." He was getting a little frustrated with people caring for his health and well-being. Marinette spoke up.
"He's right. We need to leave as soon as possible. We are far too vulnerable here, and Papillon knows we're here if he knows we're alive." Marinette glanced at Felix, who scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Gabriel believes I'm investigating what happened last night and whether or not you two survived, since you killed his assassins."
"Great," Marinette said, sarcastically. "We really need to get out of here. He can rest when he's safe." She looked to Alya and Nino, who nodded slowly. She could see Alya already coming up with a plan. Nino just looked frusteratedly concerned.
"I think it would be wise to come up with a task force to rescue Chloe, if you don't mind the suggestion," Felix said. Adrien nodded slowly.
"They'll need to come with us to the safehouse to coordinate," he said, glancing at Nino. "Kim would be good."
"Alix would make a helpful addition as well," Felix suggested. Adrien shot him a curious look before remembering. Alix had worked in China for a brief stint. It stood to reason they would've come across the other. He nodded at Nino.
"Alix too."
After much discussion on logistics and coordinating with Kim and Alix, Adrien was carefully loaded into a nondescript car, lying down across the back seats, his head in Marinette's lap. She played with his hair, absentmindedly, staring out the window as Felix directed Nino from the passenger seat. She was stressed, Adrien could tell.
He reached up and caressed the side of her face. She looked down and smiled, kissing him on the forehead, before returning to her alert expression, eyes on the road ahead of them. He wished he could do more to ease the worried crease in her forehead, but it took everything he had not to cry out as they began moving. It was difficult to relax his abdominal muscles as they moved, but Marinette's gentle hand in his hair eased him just slightly. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing as they drove northeast to Montreuil.
He hoped he wouldn't regret trusting Felix in this way, but they truly had no other options.
He winced as Nino took a sharp turn. Marinette's fingers dripped down to massage his brow, the pads of her fingers pattering softly there. He focused on her movements, doing everything he could to avoid tensing. He could feel the stitches there now; the medicine the doctor had given him was in the process of wearing off. It was dull pain, but every time he stiffened, it turned into an unbearable stabbing sensation.
They took another turn, and he breathed in sharply. Marinette's fingers continued their soothing movements, running gently over his eyebrows and temples and through his hair. He opened his eyes to see Marinette biting her lip, fighting back tears. She'd succeeded for the most part until she caught his eye. She took a shaky breath as Adrien reached his hand up again, wiping away the wetness there.
"I'll be okay, I promise," he whispered. She just nodded, unable to answer.
They continued driving for what felt like hours. By the time they pulled into a hidden parking lot behind a brick building Adrien could barely get a glance of, every part of him felt stiff and sore. Marinette's careful fingers continued working as they parked and looked around.
"Everything's clear," Nino said, looking around, on edge. Adrien just nodded, his eyes still screwed shut. He heard the door next to Marinette open.
"Are you ready, minou?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He nodded again and opened his eyes. She smiled down at him, concern laced in her brow. She gently lifted his head and scooted out the open door as Nino and Felix filled the cavity. Adrien struggled to push himself up, biting back a hiss as his abdomen lit on fire. He breathed heavily.
"Try not to scream," Nino grimaced as he reached out to grip his arm. Adrien was about to reply with a sarcastic remark as he stepped out, but lost the thought entirely as he almost collapsed where he stood. Felix swooped in to grab his other arm as Marinette fussed off to the side. They were supporting all of his weight at that point, as he focused on not blacking out.
"Over here," he heard Felix say, and they moved toward a cement staircase leading to the basement bookstore Felix had described. Marinette held the door open for them as they entered. "There's a bedroom over to the right, it's kind of hidden behind some bookshelves." Adrien was swimming in and out of lucidity as they dragged him further into the shop. Just when he thought he couldn't take much more, they leaned him back, and he felt a soft mattress beneath him.
They did their best to orient him against the pillow, and Marinette pulled the quilt up to his chin, but he felt entirely depleted. He could feel Marinette's presence, anxious and pacing off to his right, and Nino to his left, concern written in every movement. He felt the need to say something, to reassure them of his condition, but instead, he succumbed to his pain and fell asleep.
"Probably for the best," Nino murmured, looking across at Marinette. She nodded, relaxing just a bit. "I'll make sure the building is secure before going back for everyone else." And with that, he followed Felix out, shutting the door behind him. Marinette watched her husband sleep, his chest rising gently with each breath. Walking around to the other side of the bed, she pulled back the quilt and pulled up his shirt to inspect the bandages. She prodded carefully, feeling for the stitches she knew were there.
Thankfully, as there was no new bleeding, she suspected the stitches were mercifully intact. She pulled the hem of his shirt back down and replaced the quilt. He was completely dead to the world, lying against the gingham pillow. She leaned down and kissed his forehead before leaving the room.
Felix stood there, awkwardly in a kind of lounge or nook area in the center of the bookstore. He looked up when she stepped in, around the bookcases.
"M. Lahiffe left to get the others," he supplied. She just nodded and inspected him.
"Have we met before?" she asked, sitting down on one of the warm, leather couches. After a beat, he followed suit, sitting opposite her, albeit stiffly.
"Once," he said shortly. "I came to your wedding."
"Ah. Of course," she said, a small smile there. "What kept you away?"
"Business. In China," he said, shortly. He didn't seem to be in the mood for conversation, but Marinette couldn't have that.
"你在那里住了多久?" she inquired, watching him. He finally smiled a bit then.
"六七年了。我已經有一段時間沒有能夠跟別人說這種語言了。"
"You're much more fluent than I," Marinette chuckled a bit and watched him begin to relax.
"Have you visited?" He asked a question of his own.
"A couple of times. I have an uncle who lives there," she replied. They fell into a lull. Marinette had had one question weighing on her mind ever since she heard from Felix that Chloe had been unable to escape because of her interference. "How is Chloe?" She asked, finally. Felix's ease disappeared.
"She is fine. But she needs to get out," he said, simply.
"Do you..." Marinette paused, wondering just how appropriate her next question was. Felix seemed to catch on.
"I assure you, the feelings I have for Chloe are brotherly. I fear for her safety, and I care a great deal about her. But I'm not..." he adjusted his tie, anxiously. "She isn't..." Marinette just smiled and nodded.
"How long have you worked for Papillon?" she asked, saving him from his broken explanation.
"Three years now. When Emilie died, Papillon reached out to me to work for them," he explained.
"Do you like it?" she asked after a pause. He pursed his lips.
"It's a job, just like anything else. It keeps me on my toes, mostly because Gabriel can be quite unpredictable, but I've survived so far." His tone was rueful. "How are you enjoying the business?" His eyebrows were raised as Marinette turned a bit sheepish.
"I never thought I'd end up being Don of my own Family," she admitted. "But I knew what I was getting into when I married Adrien. I expected it to be a part of my life, I was just surprised when he kept me out."
"Adrien is quick to draw conclusions," Felix nodded, and Marinette just smiled, ducking her head a bit.
"It wasn't that. He was just protecting me. And I didn't make it very apparent I was willing to help."
"What are you going to do after all of this is over? All of this with Papillon?" he asked, his eyebrow raised. Marinette shrugged.
"I have no plans of dissolving the Family Coccinelle. If Adrien has any ideas, I'm all ears, but we're working well enough as is." Felix nodded, thoughtfully, and they fell into an easier silence than before. Then came a knock at the back door. It came in a specific rhythm, and Felix called for them to enter. They both stood as they heard Nino enter with their accomplices.
They filed in, one by one. Alya came second, just behind Nino, sidling up to Marinette and squeezing her hand reassuringly. And then came the others. There were many things Marinette didn't know about when it came to the Agreste Family, but these were people she knew. People Adrien had introduced her to over the years. Kim was the muscle. Alix was the strategist.
"Kagami?" Felix choked out, sounding much like he needed a drink of water. The tall, dark-haired woman had entered the room last, but she watched Felix with careful eyes. Kagami was the assassin of the Agreste Family, Marinette knew. Usually quite reserved, the look she laid on him was unreadable to everyone, with the exception, perhaps, of Felix. He tugged at his tie again.
"I insisted on coming," she said, shortly, in that impassive tone of hers. Felix just nodded, nervously. The emotion in his eyes and the blush on his cheeks did everything to convey to Marinette that he indeed did not have feelings for Mlle. Bourgeois. Nino did not seem to notice and got immediately to business. He gestured to Felix.
"This is Felix, everyone. He currently works for Papillon, but he's joined forces with us to save Chloe. If anyone has a problem with that, take it up with Chat Noir." To their credit, no one seemed all that phased. If they did have issues, it would've been uncomfortable to bring them up to an almost mortally wounded don. Marinette caught curious glances at her from the others in the room and wondered suddenly how many of them knew she was Ladybug and how they felt about it, but her thoughts were drowned out by Felix speaking up.
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice." He spoke awkwardly as people settled, either on the couches and chairs around or hovering near the bookshelves. He was the very appearance of business, but there was something simmering under the surface. Something uncomfortable and unsure. But there was no time for that now. "Rescuing Chloe is going to be a delicate business, and I'm sure Adrien appreciates you all for being willing to risk your lives." The air stilled as the members internalized the potential danger at hand, the risks that had already been taken.
"He's alright," Nino said, breaking the silence. Eyes shot to him, morbid curiosity in their expressions. "The wound is bad, but the doctor said he should be fully healed in a matter of months." The tension in the room relaxed, as tight breaths returned to normal and their attentions returned to Felix. He bit the inside of his cheek, nodding, mentally preoccupied, either by the knowledge that his only cousin was injured, or the fact that Kagami was only about five feet from his left and he had only just noticed.
"So, what's the plan?" Alix asked after a beat, leaning forward from her perch on the couch, her hands clasped across her knees. "What's Papillon expecting?" Felix bit his lip briefly.
"I'm unsure at the moment. I have to report back to him in an hour or so. I'll do my best to see if he suspects anything. Right now, he doesn't even know the Agrestes are alive. I'm supposed to be investigating that currently."
"So are we going to have to wait a day?" Nino asked, concerned.
"I think it would be best," Felix grimaced. "Chloe is not in immediate danger. In fact, when I tell Papillon that Adrien and Marinette have survived, he'll be more inclined to keep her alive as bait. But the more information I can gather tonight and tomorrow will be vital in our plan to rescue her."
"So what are we supposed to be doing in the meantime?" Kim asked, frustratedly.
"Lay low," Marinette spoke up. Everyone turned to her, and for just a moment, she felt a little uneasy, though she didn't let it show. "We need everything to look like our families are operating like normal. If Papillon sends spies to watch headquarters, we need him to think we're taking our time with retaliation. That Adrien getting shot shook us more than in reality, and that we're holding off on plans until he heals." All eyes were on her, their attention rapt. "He knows we're going to fight back, but he doesn't know when. That's our only advantage right now." Felix nodded in agreement.
"She's right. We're trusting all of you to remain calm, keep this plan under wraps, and be ready for action when we have more information," he said, giving her a quick smile.
"Are we infiltrating their headquarters?" Kagami asked, staring at Felix. He wet his lips.
"As of right now, no. Chloe's apartment is guarded, though she doesn't know it. The apartment next to hers is inhabited by a couple of Papillon's soldiers, and they know who I am. We'll come for her in the dead of night. One group's job will be to get her to safety, and the second group will be in charge of moving out all of her belongings. She's actually already packed, as she's had her own plan of escape for a while, but we'll have to be quick."
"So why do we need all of us? Won't that be a liability?" Alya spoke up.
"If the soldiers spot us, their first thought will be to call headquarters, and if that happens, we'll want strength in numbers," Felix replied. "The first group will be small, two of us, tops. The others will be stationed around, watching for any suspicious activity. After that, it'll be all hands on deck to retrieve her boxes, and many hands make light work."
Everyone paused, absorbing this. Alix was the one to break the silence, but she addressed Nino this time.
"How come Sabrina isn't in on this?" Her tone was almost accusing. Nino had the decency to look regretful.
"I was worried she'd be too emotional for this. Trust me, once we get her back, she'll be the first to know, besides Chat Noir." Alix didn't look thrilled with his response, but she nodded reluctantly.
"Does anyone have any other questions?" Felix asked, glancing around the room. No one spoke. "Alright. M. Lahiffe and I are in communication. I'll speak with Papillon very soon, and once we know what his plans are, we'll inform you if the plan is a go or no-go." Nino nodded and signaled to everyone else.
"Let's get back to headquarters. We don't want anyone to notice we've been gone for too long." Everyone began standing, mostly silent, absorbing the plan. Nino looked at her. "Marinette?"
"I'm staying," she said. He nodded, unsurprised. Alya broke away from him and grasped Marinette's hands.
"What do you need me to do?" She asked, and Marinette's heart swelled with appreciation for her.
"I just need you to go to headquarters. Let our capos know what's going on, if you can. Most of our people are indisposed at the moment, but I don't want to keep them in the dark," she said, and Alya nodded, smiling softly at her.
"Do you want me to inform them about Wang, or do you want to?" Her voice was low and careful. Marinette closed her eyes for the briefest moment, taking in a breath.
"You can do it," she said finally. Alya nodded, squeezed her hands again, and followed everyone out the door. Nino hovered, looking at Kagami, who had not moved.
"Kagami?" he asked, curiously.
"I'll remain here," she said, rigidly. Felix sucked in a quick breath, and she glanced at him. "They need a guard." Nino pursed his lips, appearing a bit conflicted. He glanced at Marinette, who shrugged halfheartedly.
"Alright," he agreed, and after a moment's hesitation, he followed the others outside. Felix was blinking rather quickly, the appearance of a rapid panic setting in. He looked to Marinette and gathered himself in an instant.
"I've got to report to Papillon. I'll return as soon as I can." And with that, he whirled around and weaved through the bookcases, the sound of a door swinging shut behind him. It left Marinette and Kagami alone together. Marinette wanted to say something, but she wasn't sure what. Kagami, sensing this, turned to her.
"You should be with Adrien. I'll be here." Marinette blinked before nodding and leaving the room. She found the door from before and slipped quietly inside. She'd left a lamp on, in case Adrien woke, but he hadn't. He lay there, his light hair splayed out messily across his forehead and the pillow beneath. She leaned over him from the far side of the bed and ran her fingers through the strands before lifting the edge of the quilt, kicking off her shoes, and slipping under the covers next to him.
He hummed in his deep sleep, but didn't move. Marinette watched him, feeling the tangled emotions in her chest loosen. He'd be alright. They'd be alright. The healthy warmth in his cheeks, absent before, now undeniable, did much to lift her spirits. It wasn't close to dark yet, but after all of the stress of the day, she could use some rest, too.
She rolled and clicked off the lamp, plunging them into shallow afternoon darkness. She reached for him under the quilt, resting a hand on his chest. He hummed again, and Marinette smiled to herself before drifting off to sleep beside him.
"You're sure?" Gabriel asked, his tone uncompromising. Felix nodded, his hands behind his back, his posture as stiff as usual.
"I watched the Lahiffe household all afternoon. I saw Ladybug with my own eyes, and a doctor came in and out. I didn't see Chat Noir, but I overheard them discuss his condition. He was shot, but he's expected to live." Felix kept his expression carefully guarded. "I also overheard them discuss a plan to flee to a safehouse." Gabriel laughed at that.
"My poor son. He's never been quite the thinker." He turned to Chloe, who stood rooted next to Felix. "I want Lila's crew sent to investigate each of the safehouses associated with the Agreste family, as well as Ladybug's. You know the location of Zoe's home, correct?" Gabriel asked, missing the ashen expression of Chloe's. She swallowed, shakily, but attempted to gather herself.
"Yes."
"Good." Gabriel nodded. "That needs investigating, too. Were you able to discover what happened to my assassins?" Felix nodded.
"Damocles and Jean were both shot. Agreste managed to cover up the story and avoid involvement, but both Damocles and Jean are deceased." Gabriel tutted, frusteratedly.
"Fantastic. Now I need to replace my assassins. What an inconvenience." He looked at Felix, contemplatively. "Kagami Tsurugi works for my son, does she not?" Felix froze almost imperceptibly before nodding. "Once Adrien is dead, I'd like you to reach out to her, Chloe, if you would." Chloe nodded, more out of reflex than anything else.
"Gabriel, Kagami doesn't—" Gabriel interrupted him.
"I don't care about your personal feelings, Felix. Everyone has their price. You of all people should know that." Felix swallowed before nodding and glancing over at Chloe. She looked frozen. "You are dismissed," Gabriel said, finally, waving his hand impatiently. Felix grabbed her arm and guided her out, for which she was grateful. She hadn't been sure her legs would work. He led her back to her office for a moment, glancing around them before leaning down and whispering to her.
"You remember what I told you?" he asked, his green eyes piercing hers. She couldn't. "Be ready when it comes." His whisper was barely a breath against her ear before he stood and let go of her, walking down the stairs and abandoning her to her thoughts.
She knew what he meant, but she couldn't bring herself to hope. The only thing she knew for sure was that if her involvement with Papillon resulted in Adrien's death, she'd kill Gabriel herself.
Marinette woke to quiet voices outside the bedroom door. It was far darker than before. Night had fallen beyond the curtains above her. Felix had returned from his meeting with Papillon, evidently. She remained where she was, intent on returning to her slumber, but the voices, now that she'd noticed them, were more difficult to ignore.
"—three years and I didn't know." It was the voice of Kagami. She didn't sound angry, but she certainly wasn't happy.
"I assumed as much," Felix responded, sheepishly. "Your mother recommended me to Papillon."
"That surprises me."
"It surprised me too."
"Why did you never..." Kagami's voice had quieted a fraction. Marinette couldn't catch what she'd asked. She heard "seven years" somewhere in there, and Felix laughed a bit in response, humorlessly.
"I wanted to, Kagami. You have to know that. I—I've missed you." She'd almost missed that, too. Abandoning any effort at falling back to sleep, she pushed herself up slightly, resting her head on the headboard in an attempt to hear better. Kagami's response came slowly.
"I've missed you too," she replied, and then silence. After a moment, she heard the murmured voices return, but they were entirely impossible to hear now. She sighed, realizing she was being a terrible guest, and sank back down against her pillow. Adrien shifted beside her.
"Mari?" his voice was so quiet. She rolled over to him, reaching for his cheek. He clutched her hand and kissed her palm.
"Adrien," she said, her voice more relieved than she'd expected. What had felt like weeks of worry was really only a day, but the fact did nothing to ease her nerves.
"Are we at the safehouse?" he asked, his voice hoarse from lack of use.
"Yes, sweetheart. You passed out again from the pain." She reached for him again, running her thumb across his brow. She felt him stiffen.
"How long have we been here?"
"I'm not sure," she responded. "It's only barely fallen dark." Adrien sighed unhappily.
"Did I miss the meeting?"
"Yes," she responded.
"What's the plan?" He asked, trying to sit up, but Marinette stopped him.
"The plan for you is to rest," she said, planting a kiss behind his ear. He relaxed for a second before turning to her and reaching for her waist.
"You know I can't do that," he whispered to her. It was dark in the room, but Marinette would've bet anything his expression was one of attempted seduction. She didn't fall for it.
"Sweetheart, you passed out today riding in the car," she chided him. He huffed. "Rest is the only thing you ought to be doing."
"I can't stand aside while my soldiers rescue Chloe," he said, indignantly.
"Adrien, you can't stand right now. Which is why you need rest," Marinette responded, putting a hand on his chest. He grumbled under his breath. "You'd insist the same of me." The statement was a little manipulative, but he needed to understand if he was to come to his senses. Adrien deflated, turning his face away from hers. "No pouting." She kissed his neck. "We'll get Chloe back, and together we'll figure out a plan to take down your father."
He stayed silent and unmoving. Marinette sighed and rolled back to her pillow. They lay in silence for a few minutes, both stubbornly refusing to indulge the other. Adrien caved before she did.
"When are you rescuing her?" He asked. Marinette didn't respond, biting her lip, eyes closed. She felt Adrien reach for her, unable to roll over to meet her. "Please. I need to know when I'll see her safe and well." Marinette exhaled before responding.
"Two days," she said.
"Two days," he whispered. He squeezed her hand before falling silent again. Many emotions were building in her chest. She desperately wished her husband would just heal, but also that he would heed her admonition and actually rest. She knew he must be stressed and frustrated that he couldn't help with the plan to rescue Chloe. She knew he must feel useless, benched for his own team, but this was what was best for him. On top of that, her own fear for the plan was weighing heavily on her mind. It was all threatening to overwhelm her, but she didn't want to add that to Adrien's plate. She sat up and pushed the covers aside.
"You need food. I'll go find Felix and scrounge something up," she said, leaving the bed. She heard Adrien's quiet thanks before pulling the door open and leaving him in the darkness.
Notes:
Marinette and Felix's convo in Chinese translation:
Marinette – How long did you live there?
Felix – It's been six or seven years. I haven't been able to speak this language with anyone in a while.
Also, yeah, I decided to give Alix a bit of a Chinese career background. Not trying to downplay her Berber/Arabic ethnicity, just thought it added a little flavor to the story.
Chapter 14: Riunione
Notes:
I really appreciate all the love for this story. Yall keep me going. Hope you enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Adrien awoke to the sounds of rustling fabric. He sat up the best he could and spotted his wife dressing in the dim lamplight, inspecting her reflection in the floor-length mirror in the corner. He glanced over at the clock and saw the time. Midnight. She hadn't noticed him awake yet. As she pulled dark trousers over her legs and began buttoning her crisp, white dress shirt, his heart jumped to his throat.
Two days later had come. It had been difficult to keep track of time as he'd slept through most of it. Marinette made sure he was taking his medicine and eating properly. She kept him updated on the business goings-on as well as Nino, but it didn't scratch the itch of his restlessness. Alya had provided them with clothes from their home in the interim, though Adrien was still forcibly pyjamaed and bedridden.
He had grown incrementally accustomed to the idea of his wife being involved in the mafia, but it did little to ease his nerves about her safety. Weeks after the discovery, he was embarrassed to admit his absolute fury in the hours after: Driving aimlessly, his knuckles white, gripping the wheel, and cursing at what little traffic remained at that hour. He'd parked near the Seine and walked for hours as the night grew steadily deeper and darker. It was not a mood he often found himself in, especially when it came to Marinette.
It had taken at least two hours for him to cool down enough to think about all the details she'd hidden and for how long, and it had just infuriated him more. How dare she go behind him like this? Lie to his face? Spy on him? Was that her plan all along? Had she been lying to him their whole marriage? He had never felt so betrayed.
But as he sat on a park bench overlooking the gently moving waters, staring at his own reflection, he swallowed his pride and thought of his wife. He wondered whether she had even dared to return home or was too scared to face him, taking refuge in her headquarters or elsewhere. He wondered if she was fearing for her life. If she thought he might hurt her, or worse. He wondered if this was it for them. He wondered if somehow, Papillon had known and been after this from the beginning.
It took another hour to remember how much he loved her. How, despite it all, what this might imply. Maybe she'd always wanted to be a part of his world. Maybe she couldn't tell him, despite wanting to. There had to be a reason. He knew his Marinette: She never did anything without a reason. She was a planner in that way.
So he'd headed home, the apprehension still there. His sureness, unsteady. His trust, broken, but repairable. They'd always been there for each other, through the good times and the bad. What he was completely sure of, was that he didn't want to make the same mistake he had made with Chloe.
By the time he arrived home, the anger had been completely replaced with apprehension. What if she wasn't there? Missing, or taken, or left him for good? As he climbed the stairs, relief broke through as the sound of the bathroom water running shut off. When he'd finally spotted her, he didn't know what to think. He hadn't been sure what he would do. What she would do. But as he watched his wife, leaning against the counter of their bathroom, her expression as masked as his, an overwhelming and unexpected surge of love and admiration hit him, such that he couldn't hide it. It took a minor blow when he spotted the prepared weapon beside her, but he didn't hesitate to reach out and touch her. He was grateful just to have her.
Whatever difficulties came out of this were nothing compared to what their relationship meant to him.
At least, that's what he had thought at the time. But as he observed his wife dressing for a rescue mission he desperately wanted to be a part of, fear and recklessness licked up like a flame within him. He wouldn't be there to protect her. He hadn't been doing an amazing job at that so far, but letting her go alone, without him, felt out of the question.
These thoughts and many more raced around in his mind as Marinette pulled on a well-tailored vest and buttoned it, donning a leather chest holster he'd never seen before. The corner of his mouth betrayed him, twitching in a slight smirk as he admired her. Her eyes suddenly met his in the mirror, and she spun around, a soft smile just for him.
"Good morning, sweetheart," she whispered, coming over to his side of the bed and kissing him soundly. He reached into her hair, smiling as she hummed pleasantly. Too soon, she broke away, her bright blue eyes inspecting his face. He continued playing with her hair. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice still low.
"Very good," he said, nodding. "Good enough to come with you all, I think." Marinette just laughed quietly, kissing his forehead before straightening up. They both knew he was joking, but it didn't make him feel any better. He continued watching her as she pulled her gun from the bag Alya had been kind enough to pack for them. Extra clothes, anything they might need from home. Marinette's fingers ran around the gun, making sure it was properly loaded before tucking it into the left side of her chest holster.
She was closer to the lamplight, and Adrien saw that her suit was not black like he'd originally assumed. It was the darkest, richest red he had ever seen.
"A suit?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She just smiled at his expression.
"What? I'm going to need to be mobile." Her voice was teasing. She really didn't know what she was doing to him. As he had no response, she turned away, double-checking she had everything she needed. She plucked her suit jacket from off the chair and slipped it on, adjusting her collar and cuffs. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the bedside table and bit her lip. "I need to go," she said, approaching his side of the bed again. He reached out to her, grabbing her hand in his. She squeezed, looking down at him, a hesitant look in her eyes.
"Be safe, princess," he said, fear gripping him, suddenly realizing how his wife had felt every single day of their marriage.
"I will," she replied, leaning down to kiss him soundly. He breathed her in as the moment stretched to accommodate his racing thoughts. All too soon, she was gone. He heard faint whispers outside his door, before soft footsteps fell further and further away. A distant door opened and shut, leaving him alone in the hidden basement bookstore, far away from the action of the night.
Marinette jumped in the car with Nino, Felix, and Kagami, leaving her husband behind. Despite the necessity, she felt as though she were abandoning him, but she quickly forced that line of thinking away. Adrien was safe. The only focus she had right now was for Chloe. No one spoke as they sped through the empty, late-night streets of Paris, headed West toward Chloe's apartments.
The other half of their crew would be joining them there, in a delivery truck they were borrowing from the Couffaines. The drive was surprisingly short, despite the tension in the air. They parked and waited, engine off, before they spotted the delivery truck pulling in. It parked to their left, and Marinette caught Alya's eye as they all exited as silently as they could.
As per their plan, Felix and Marinette would be the ones retrieving Chloe, while the others stood watch. Once she was secured, everyone else would load up all of her belongings as quickly as possible and get out of there.
As the group stood silently in the shadows, Marinette's pulse quickened as Felix nodded his head and gestured for Marinette to follow him. Steeling herself, she gripped her gun in its holster beneath her suit jacket. They crept away from the group, reaching a flight of stairs.
"Keep an eye on that window," Felix said, pointing. The curtains were drawn, but as they discussed, Marinette knew this was the apartment that held two of Papillon's soldiers, stationed specifically to keep an eye on Chloe. She nodded, and they both ascended the steps, creeping as quietly as they could to Chloe's door. They were lucky it wasn't a very well-maintained apartment complex; there was only one street light around, and it was in the opposite corner of the courtyard.
Felix stopped short, craning behind him to glance at the window only a few yards away. He pulled something out of his pocket and knelt down, inspecting the lock. Marinette turned away, watching the window. She heard him begin the lockpicking process, the light clicks and scratches doing little to ease her nerves. She heard him curse quietly under his breath after a few minutes.
"Old lock," he said, hushed. Marinette kept her eyes on the window, hand still wrapped around her gun. And then came a click. Felix said nothing as he twisted the doorknob gently, pushing inward. He stepped inside, motioning for Marinette to do the same. Once inside, the ambient light from outside was immediately obscured. Marinette dared not move, but Felix was creeping around carefully, off to where he knew the bedroom was.
Marinette's eyes slowly adjusted; the shadowy towers of boxes off to her right swimming into her vision. She stood there, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she wondered what was taking Felix so long. She glanced through the crack between the curtains, glancing at the crew hiding behind the truck.
The sounds of footsteps approached, and Marinette felt a sense of relief wash over her before she realized something very important.
"Where—?" She started, but her voice died as he held up a torn piece of paper. It took her eyes a moment in the dark to discern the shape stamped there, but as he thrust it into her face, there was no mistaking it; the stamp of a butterfly.
Felix looked like the image of fear. Marinette barely had time to think as he gripped her wrist and pulled her outside and down the stairs, not even bothering to lock the door behind them. As they approached the rest of the group, confusion and fear etched themselves on every face.
"What's going on?" Nino asked, deeply concerned.
"Chloe isn't here," Felix hissed, handing Nino the paper. His face paled.
"What do we do?" Nino asked as the others craned to look at the stamp in his hand. Felix addressed Alya.
"Follow me," Felix said, before jumping back into the driver's seat. Everyone took their places quickly, not daring to speak just yet. Marinette's veins had long run cold, but her eyes remained on the window as they drove away. She watched as the inner edge of the curtain rippled.
Adrien was restless. He'd tried to fall back asleep when the others had left, to no avail. He lay, staring at the ceiling, a delicate throb in his side keeping him company. The clock ticked further and further into the night as he continued losing sleep.
He rolled over a grabbed his bottle of codeine and took his usual dose of sixty milligrams. He waited for the pain to dull before carefully rolling out of bed and standing for the first time in several days. He swayed for a moment, gripping his bedside table, but once he steadied himself, he walked over to the door and pushed it open.
A few lamps remained on, illuminating the sitting area in the middle of the bookshelves. Gripping the shelves around him when needed, he crept his way to the couches and table, now covered with drawings and plans.
Felix had been filling Marinette, Alya, and Nino in on all of the details of Papillon and his plans. There were roughly drawn sketches of the headquarters layout and the layout of Chloe's apartment complex. Addresses and other notes were scribbled onto scraps, along with the details of what supplies they would be bringing. A lock-picking set. The Couffaine's delivery van. It showed the groups they'd be separated into and the locations they'd each be returning to.
Adrien sifted through these, thumbing over some notes in Marinette's handwriting. He was beginning to get a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. At first, he thought it was just a mixture of hunger and pain, which he'd been feeling for days now, but as he read through their notes and plans, he realized it was an entirely different sensation. He was scared.
He knew his father. He knew how ruthless and bitter and vindictive he could be. It was why he'd always needed mother to soothe him, to ease the tension in every situation, to help him think rationally. As Adrien gazed at the plan he'd technically approved, a wiggling finger of doubt crept into his mind.
Surely his father expected this? It wasn't a plan based on surprise, mostly just timing. But they'd been planning all along what Papillon expected their families to do, not what he, Adrien, would do, and really, that was all Papillon would be caring about in this moment.
As Adrien thought long and hard, fighting the fuzzy influence of the codeine, a thought crossed his mind. His father believed him to be reckless. Impatient. Unsatisfied, just as he was. Uncontent to be left behind. And if that's what he was thinking, there was no way he'd leave Chloe in her apartment, unprotected.
His father wanted to kill him. Lure him and Marinette out of hiding to confront them directly. Chloe would not be in her apartment. She would be with him, held captive in headquarters.
Pain was building in his side; he'd been standing too long. He sat on the couch, staring at the bookshelves in front of him. If his suspicions were correct, Gabriel expected him to leave this safehouse and come find him, which was exactly what he wanted to do. If he did, he'd be falling straight into his trap.
But surely, once the group realized Choe wasn't there, they'd run straight to Papillon's headquarters? Marinette was not one to sit around and wait; she'd want to head there immediately. If Adrien wasn't there, who would be protecting her?
His mind was tearing itself apart as he considered all the implications. The one thing he knew for a fact was that by the end of the night, Marinette would end up at Papillon's headquarters, and Adrien had two choices: stay here and wait, or rush to meet them there.
He glanced at the table, coming eye to eye with Nino's abandoned keys. The car was outside, as the four of them had taken Felix's vehicle.
Perhaps it was the drugs. Perhaps it was because he felt abandoned. Perhaps it was because his wife was in almost certain danger, but Adrien ignored the uncomfortable feeling in his chest that he was playing right into Papillon's outstretched hand, as he rushed back to the bedroom to change, gripping Nino's keys in his left hand.
"There are three floors." Felix was speaking with a desperate urgency he had lacked in their earlier meetings. They stood around in a circle, huddled and hidden behind the van. They were behind Papillon's headquarters, stationed in front of a house abutting it. "The bottom is where the offices for the caporegimes are, as well as our holding cells. There is an entrance there that is less conspicuous, but it is far from the action. The second floor is the kitchens, Papillon's office, and his personal quarters. Upstairs is the office and personal quarters of Nathalie Sancoeur, as well as Chloe Bourgeois' office." He spoke rapidly, looking around every once in a while, his head on a swivel.
"What kind of security do you have outside?" Nino murmured, his arms crossed, standing next to Alya.
"Just the front gate. There's a guard and a thicket surrounding the whole property. It shouldn't be difficult to move in from behind, especially while it's dark; we just have to sneak through this yard," Felix replied, nodding at the home in front of them. Nerves were running high as they all considered what they were about to do.
"How sure are we that she's here?" Alya asked, concern written in he expression.
"There's no other place she could be," Alix spoke up, her voice bitter. Kagami nodded in agreement.
"He's luring us here on purpose. He wants Ladybug and Chat Noir dead. Threatening Chloe's life will get them here." She said it so matter-of-factly, it drove a cold knife through Marinette. Her only solace was that Adrien was tucked away, hidden, safe in Felix's little bookshop.
"Where would he be keeping her?" Marinette asked, watching Felix carefully. She didn't want to suspect him of anything untoward, but she couldn't imagine a better time for a betrayal. It all seemed far too convenient.
"He's always been one for dramatics," Felix said, wryly. "I suspect in his office, though the cells are a possibility as well. We'll need to spread out. Kagami and I will head upstairs. Alya, Nino, and Alix, you take the first floor. Marinette and Kim, take the basement." He looked at everyone, confirming the assignments with a nod. "We need to move. Let's go."
As they began the short trek to headquarters, avoiding the lights in neighboring windows, Marinette crept up to Alix.
"Hey," she murmured. Alix just raised an eyebrow. "I know I'm not your don, but I need to ask you a favor."
"You want to switch places with me," Alix said, a quick smile on her face, and Marinette frowned.
"Yes," she responded, a little perturbed that she had been sussed out so quickly. Alix nodded, watching the back of Felix's figure ahead of them.
"You suspicious of him?" She asked. Marinette bit her lip, glancing around them.
"No. I just want to be careful," she replied. Alix nodded, seeming to understand.
"Fine. I'll switch you," she said, watching her relax a little bit. "Tell your husband I want a raise, though." Marinette couldn't conceal her grin at that.
Quickly, they made it to the thicket of trees, just outside the boundary of Papillon's headquarters. As they dashed forward, it occurred to Marinette just how easy this all felt. There were no guards at the front gate. The lock on the basement entrance remained broken, fallen off to the side where she'd left it only a few days ago. There were no lights. No sounds.
Felix led them forward, gesturing for those going to the basement to use the other entrance. He didn't seem to notice as Alix dashed forward in her place. The remaining five crept to the side door. Felix pressed against the door and twisted silently. As they entered, he gestured to Kagami, and they crept up the stairs to the offices. That left Marinette, Alya, and Nino to explore the bottom floor.
Marinette had never felt a panic quite like this before, as Alya and Nino crept forward through the darkened hallway. She'd faced Gabriel and kept her life before. But now? She couldn't be sure. She watched her friends' shadows disappear and considered her options. There was a door to her right that led somewhere she couldn't make out. Despite all of Felix's planning, she wasn't sure where this led. She moved forward, creeping along the long, thick carpet, before hitting tile. She found herself in the kitchen, shapes and movements conjuring themselves in her peripheral. She gripped her pistol, having long removed it from her chest holster. She continued forward, her shoes hitting a soft surface before a light clicked on without warning.
Reacting immediately, she pointed her gun straight ahead, directly into the face of Gabriel Agreste, who stood, dramatically silhouetted against the living room windows, the scene reflecting back at her from the dark behind it.
Chloe knelt on the floor in front of him, appearing much calmer than Marinette felt at the moment, aware, yet accepting of Gabriel's gun pointed directly at the back of her head.
"Let her go," Ladybug said calmly, her finger resting at the trigger of her gun. Gabriel just smiled.
"Not yet," he said, his tone cruel, yet eerily serene. "I'm waiting for your dear husband to join us."
"That won't be happening," Ladybug replied, attempting to divest herself of emotion. Gabriel just hmmed, unimpressed.
"You do not know Adrien as well as you think." His eyes glittered. "By now, you must know that Agreste men would do anything for their wives."
"Be that as it may, your headquarters is currently crawling with our soldiers. You are outnumbered," Ladybug raised an eyebrow, waiting for his move.
"Ah, Madame Ladybug. That is yet another miscalculation on your part." And then she heard it: gunshots and shouting from outside. She heard footsteps from all corners of the house, racing to meet outside. She opened her mouth to yell, to tell them not to follow, the action was here, inside, but she stopped herself. "Don't shout. Surely you haven't forgotten about Mlle. Bourgeois' predicament here?" Gabriel twitched the pistol in his hand. Chloe breathed, closing her eyes momentarily. She obviously had something she wanted to say, but didn't dare voice it.
It was strange to see someone usually so fiery as Chloe remain silent and unmoving. She wasn't broken, Marinette could see it in her eyes and the way she held herself, but she had reached a certain level of acceptance that was simply intolerable.
"Just let her go," Ladybug spoke. "If you're right, Chat Noir is on his way now, and he won't know any better."
Further gunshots from outside made her flinch. Gabriel smirked, watching her unease grow.
"An interesting proposition from the little bug." He pretended to consider the idea, tapping his finger to his chin, maintaining his aim at the back of Chloe's skull. "But you're truly foolish if you think I'm going to give up my one bargaining chip."
"Gabriel," Ladybug sighed, exasperated. "Is this really what you want? You've already killed Wang Fu," she spat bitterly. "You've avenged Emilie. If that's truly what your motivation was, why do you still desire to kill me? Kill your only son? The son to whom you entrusted your family business? Is your bloodthirst not yet satiated?" Gabriel laughed a cold, hard, bitter laugh.
"My darling Ladybug. You cannot even begin to understand the lengths I would go to achieve our dream. Now that she's dead, I must do this. No matter the cost."
The gunshots from her friends and foes outside seemed to be growing distant as they retreated from the house, the shouting completely silent now as a battle raged without and within her.
"This was her dream?" Ladybug's voice grew very low; a grating and vicious sound. "Her husband, her love, determined to murder their only son in her name?" Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Feel free to kill me. I know you never had much good to say about our marriage in the first place, despite your abysmal acting skills. But if you have become so disillusioned in your path to avenge Emilie that you would kill the only true tie to her you have left, nothing can save you from your own self-destruction."
"Enough," Gabriel growled, his teeth bared. "I'm done listening to your pathetic attempt at vilification. I'm shocked Adrien even put up with your betrayal. To think, my son lacks the resolve to eliminate those things most detrimental to his business. He's always been too emotional. At least you had the ruthlessness to lie; it speaks something to your character." His fury was building now. Marinette could see it in his shoulders, tensing and rounding forward like he was poised for attack.
She silently begged for her friends to return, to realize they'd been deceived and join her, but she was alone. Just like he'd planned from the beginning. She was but an insect, stuck in a trap long set for her.
There was no time but now. She had to shoot him before he shot Chloe. He stared at her like he knew what she was thinking and twitched his own finger, mimicking hers. His gaze bore into her, and Marinette couldn't shake the sensation of something unwelcome in her mind. The level of desperation had risen within her. Despite her words, she wanted to live. She wanted Chloe to live. She wanted Adrien to live. But Gabriel's gaze forced her into a tunnel. There was no way out of this. Her friends weren't coming back. Adrien wouldn't, couldn't, show up and rescue her. She was truly, terribly alone. The first time that had happened, the very person she'd been trying to save had died. She wouldn't be making the same mistake again.
Her mask of confidence cracked as she tossed her gun onto the sofa to the right of her, raising her arms in surrender. She ignored the shock clearly written on Chloe's face and the disgusting triumph on Gabriel's as her stomach churned.
"You can have me," Ladybug said. "I know that's what you've been after for a while now. Now let Chloe go."
"You flatter yourself, Ladybug," Gabriel cooed, sickeningly pleased that his plan had worked. "Sure, you've been shockingly irritating at times, but we both knew you'd end up here."
"Let her go."
"I'm afraid that was never truly an option," Gabriel said, lightly. Marinette and Chloe looked at each other, panic and regret dawning in different measures in their expressions. Gabriel laughed. "You were never cut out for this, Marinette." She flinched at her own name spoken from his lips. "I'm just pleased you realized before I end you."
He lifted the gun from its aim at Chloe to Marinette and pulled. She heard the gunshot in the recesses of her mind, and she ducked instinctively, but she only had eyes for Chloe, who had jumped up and shoved Gabriel with every ounce of strength she had, launching him backward to hit the couch behind him, falling awkwardly. The bullet lodged itself somewhere in the wall above her head. He cursed, struggling to get up. Chloe did not wait, grabbing Marinette by the hand and dragging her out the front door.
Before they could get past the porch, Marinette was grabbed roughly from behind, and Chloe lost her grip, stumbling down the front steps, hitting the ground, but scrambling to her feet, ignoring the stinging pain in her palms and knees. The hand on Marinette restrained her arms behind her back as the cold steel of a pistol was forced against her chin. The face of Gabriel Agreste leered down at her, his grip tightening with every second. It was growing difficult to breathe as he pressed the gun into her windpipe.
Chloe was screaming, and Marinette vaguely heard running, but Papillon just laughed behind her.
"No one can help you, Ladybug," he murmured to her and her alone. She'd been abandoned. Tears were forming in her eyes as she dragged air into her lungs, a pain she'd never felt before. "It seems I was wrong. Adrien isn't the man I thought he was."
"He's ten times the man you are," she choked out. His growl of fury made her grin, despite her position.
Furious, he released her and threw her down the steps. She barely managed to catch herself on her forearms and rolled over, propping herself up on her bruised elbows, as Papillon took careful aim.
An uneasy silence fell around them as the moment froze almost completely. Chloe had disappeared, and Marinette could hear nothing in the surrounding darkness.
She took in every detail: The throb of her bruised neck. The air felt thick and unbreathable; immovable. The silence encompassed her, pinning her in place, the sting in her limbs from her tumble the only reminder of her life. There were no streetlights. The only light that remained was the lamp in the living room, barely seen through the window. Gabriel Agreste standing at the top of the porch, his face obscured in the darkness, and the light shining from behind him. The silvery glint of his gun, still in hand, pointed directly at her. The darkness was oppressive.
She couldn't find it within her to move. To run. To escape. Maybe he was right. Maybe she had never truly been cut out for this. Wang Fu had put his faith in the wrong person. That was evident now, as she stared up into the face of her killer.
Her heartbeat slowed as she watched his arm tense, the muscles in his shoulder, then his forearm, then his hand, clench. The moment stretched to accommodate her thoughts as she felt the air buckle around her, her chest caving in, almost expecting the bullet before it pierced her skin.
She heard a gunshot for a second time, but she didn't close her eyes. She faced death fully and completely. It was odd. She'd always expected a bullet would bring pain, but perhaps it had been too quick. The pain would hit her any second now, before she buckled to the ground, her living warmth seeping from her before sleep consumed her.
It took Gabriel collapsing on the steps for her to realize she had not been the one shot. The shadowy figure of Chat Noir, her Adrien, stood on the porch. His gun pointed in the space Gabriel had just occupied, and it took a moment for him to lower his arm. Gabriel lay on the steps, his feet resting above his head, splayed in graceless geste. A shadowy puddle grew around him, dripping sickeningly down the steps.
Marinette scrambled away, a scream stuck in her chest as his hand fell disturbingly close to her own. She felt she knew she couldn't possibly stand, choosing instead to kneel in the nearby grass, observing with a severed sense of reality as Adrien sat on the stairs, taking his father's head in his lap, whispering something. Gabriel lifted a shaky hand to his cheek, touching him there as he wept. The ringing of life in Marinette's ears kept her from hearing their whispered confessions and goodbyes. They did not last long. Life drained away so quickly, she was beginning to realize.
Gabriel's hand dropped against the steps, and Adrien sat for a moment, unmoving, still shadowed and unreadable, until he brushed his hand over his father's eyes, closing them forever. He lifted him from his lap and stood, walking toward his wife and holding out a hand. She took it, unsure if she could stand without him.
It was then that she became aware of the group standing around her. The sound of gunshots had drawn them like moths to a flame. Nino looked sunken, his expression relaxed in shock. Alya held his hand in a tight grip, her body tense. Kim gripped his upper arm, where a hastily-tied bandage sat, stained red. Alix stood next to him, one of her shirt sleeves torn off, and her jaw slack. Felix looked quite pale, supporting an unsteady Kagami beside him, who held her leg at an awkward angle. Chloe clutched at his other side, mascara dripping down her cheeks. Everyone was silent.
Adrien handed Marinette off to Alya to keep her steady. He approached Chloe and wrapped his arms around her. He sobbed, unable to say anything substantial. She understood all the same.
Alya led Marinette to a car she hadn't seen before. Gorilla, a man she'd met before on multiple occasions, held the back door open for her. She slipped inside, and he closed it softly behind her. And suddenly she was alone. Her mind felt empty, her thoughts stolen by the man now lying dead only twenty feet away. She observed Adrien, finally able to speak, conversing with Chloe. She watched as he hugged her one last time and approached the car. Gorilla spoke quietly to Adrien, gesturing at the car. Adrien nodded and spoke for a while, ostensibly giving orders. Gorilla nodded in response.
It wasn't much longer before he joined her in the car. He took her hand as Gorilla drove them away from the scene. Neither spoke.
When they reached the safehouse, Adrien buckled, his strength finally drained. Marinette knelt in front of him, her eyes soft and kind as she assessed him. He closed his eyes and nodded in wordless response to her unspoken question. She stood and pulled him up with her, leading him down the steps, through the shelves, and into the bedroom, supporting him the whole way. She sat him down on the bed and helped him undress, untying his shoes as he unbuttoned his shirt. She handed him the bottle of codeine, and she undressed herself. He watched her, as he usually did, propped against his pillows.
After a few minutes, she fell into bed next to him, drained by now, too. He pulled her close and enveloped her in his warmth: His living, breathing warmth. Together, they fell asleep.
Chloe hesitated for a fraction of a second before knocking quickly at the door. She regretted it almost immediately, but stood her ground, her heart beating much faster than before. For a brief moment, she heard nothing beyond and was shamefully relieved, but then she heard a small click as someone unlocked the door. It pulled open by a fraction, and a pair of tired blue eyes looked at her before quickly widening in shock.
The door threw open, and Chloe's breath left her as she was hit by the force of a very aggressive hug. Sabrina sobbed, clutching Chloe tighter to her.
"I didn't know— w-what to think, Chat Noir had so many questions— I th-thought you might've left on purpose," She could barely breathe as she spoke, tears streaking down her cheeks. Chloe was crying too, she realized. After everything that had happened, it was nice just to be held by someone she loved. Because she did love her, she was realizing now. She wrapped her arms around Sabrina and kissed the top of her head as she dissolved into more tears. "I'm so sorry," Sabrina sobbed.
"No," Chloe managed to choke out. "No, this is not your fault; there is nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry I lied to you." Sabrina just clutched her tighter. They stood there for a while, holding each other and weeping until Sabrina got a hold of herself. So much had happened. So much had passed between them. Chloe, too selfish to let anyone in, and the overly trusting Sabrina. She'd always treated their relationship so casually before, because she'd never expected it to last.
As Sabrina pulled away, she could see this was that moment. Sabrina had finally realized she was no good for her. She wasn't worth the pain. She steeled herself, ready for the rejection as Sabrina's breath eased.
"Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?" She asked, sniffling.
Chloe almost burst into tears.
"I don't," Chloe admitted, her throat tight as her emotions threatened to spill over. Sabrina nodded, grabbed her hand, and pulled her inside. After so many weeks, the apartment Chloe had once dismissed as small and unaccommodating felt like the most lovely thing in the world, as did the warm hand in hers.
"Paris may be a fraction safer today, as the body of Gabriel Agreste, the previous head of the Agreste Mafia Family, was discovered at a private home in West Montreuil just two weeks ago. Shot on the steps of what we can assume was his headquarters, police have been investigating the assassination, trying to understand why he was here in Paris, and who killed him." The TV cut to an interview with Sergeant Roger Raincomprix, the footer announced. He spoke to a crowd of reporters, as they asked him a flurry of questions. "As we all know, Gabriel Agreste had many enemies. The suspect list we have is long, but rest assured, we are doing everything we can to figure out what happened here. If you have any information about this event, please contact the Paris police force. Thank you, no more questions." The television cut back to the female reporter from before. "Police issued another statement this morning, confirming that Gabriel Agreste was posing as none other than Papillon, an identity he had taken, presumably to continue his own illicit mafia business as Chat Noir inherited the Agreste Family name only three—"
Adrien clicked off the television with a sigh, gripping the arm of the couch as he stood, stiffly, wincing at the bruised sensation in his side. It was good to be home, but it had been an adjustment. There was little he could do physically, and to say he was getting restless was an understatement. At least the doctor had allowed him to leave his bed, as long as he took things easy and continued to rest as much as possible. Marinette was an angel; she always had been. But especially now, as he was healing from the physical and emotional wounds that ailed him.
She'd been changing his bandages, washing him before he could fully submerge the wound in water, helping him dress, ensuring he was eating and eating well, and keeping him entertained. She'd been reading aloud from that book of hers that she blushingly confessed she hadn't been able to read at all. On top of that, she had managed to organize with their underbosses so that the business side of things remained fully functional. Nino, Alya, and Chloe all stopped by once a week for an appointment set by Marinette. It allowed Adrien a strange sense of normalcy while he couldn't leave the house.
It had been a tumultuous few weeks. Sergeant Raincomprix was proving to be an invaluable asset to them, as he led the police on yet another goose chase, keeping Chat Noir and Ladybug out of the crossfire. Adrien had offered Chloe a paid leave of absence after all she'd been through. She'd taken a few days for herself, but soon enough, she was back to work despite Adrien's protests.
"I'm much too much like you," she'd said with a raised eyebrow. "I need to work to survive. Besides, we both know you've missed having me around." He had. And he was doing everything he possibly could to prove that. He trusted her, and he would never allow himself to forget that again.
He had hoped that some of those working for his father might, after some time, come to him and request a position in the Agreste Family, but no one had cropped up. Not even Nathalie. Gorilla, as it turned out, did want to retire, but he promised that if Adrien ever needed anything, he'd always be there for him, which was kind.
Adrien had run into him on the night of his father's death. He thought he was about to be killed, facing him in the backyard, gun in hand. Instead, catching sight of his old boss, he dropped his weapon to his side and told him exactly what was happening and how he might catch Papillon off-guard. If it weren't for him, Adrien may not have made it in time, and for that, Adrien would be indebted to him forever. He deserved the cushiest retirement Adrien could afford him.
Marinette had yet to find herself a new consigliere and wasn't sure when she would, but Chloe was open for consultation in those times that they really needed it. She threatened regularly to leave Adrien for her. She would give him a pointed look and explain how she was far more organized and always attentive. Adrien would just smile, knowing she didn't truly mean it, but he wouldn't fault her if she really did.
Adrien dropped the television remote beside him and made his way to the kitchen, carefully, and only occasionally clenching his left fist to divert his attention away from the discomfort of moving. Welcoming sounds came from the kitchen; Marinette in a frenzy of cooking. A celebration of life, she'd been calling every little thing. Every moment, every meal, every kiss. It distracted him from the funny numbness he felt in his chest.
An orphan. That's what he was now. The numbness wasn't necessarily bad. It was just a feeling. His father was dead, but people died every day. His father didn't deserve more credit than anyone else, and Adrien didn't want to give it to him if he had.
Marinette stood, stirring a large pot on the stove, before turning around and dividing the bread dough in front of her into smaller loaves. She glanced up at her husband leaning against the frame with a look of faint amusement. She hid it quickly, throwing him a look that would've been more effective had she not had a fair amount of flour across her forehead. Adrien snorted, ducking his head.
"What's so funny?" She asked, her eyes narrowed.
"Mon dieu, you're gorgeous," he replied, his tone so wistfully honest, she blushed. It took a moment for her to recover, a moment that Adrien savored.
"You should be resting," she admonished him as he made his way to her.
"I'm done resting," he said, coming up behind her and placing his palms on the island on either side of her and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. She sighed: Out of frustration or contentment, he could not tell.
"In six more weeks, you will be," she said. He rested his chin on her shoulder and watched her shape the dough and place it in the oiled tins beside her.
"That's too far away..." he complained, wrapping his arms closer around her.
"You dislike spending this much time with me?" Marinette asked impishly. Adrien shot up, twisting to look at her, a very definition of insulted.
"My darling, my sweetheart, my lady, I relish this time with you, and I would never imply otherwise." He gazed at her, devotedly. "I only wish that I might be able to move without a twinge in my side and be confined to my couch and bed, when I could be in here with you, cooking and kissing."
Marinette smiled, turning away.
"You're healing will come quicker the more you rest now," she reminded him.
"So the doctor keeps telling me," he grumbled, leaning back on the counter to watch Marinette work. She just hmmed in agreement. They remained in contented silence for a moment as the soup bubbled on the stove.
"Would you stir that, please?" She asked, glancing at him.
"Putting me to work now, are you?" he asked, with only a hint of snark, but she still shot him a look before turning back to the bread dough. He moved to the soup, where leeks and potatoes floated around in a creamy yellow broth, and carefully stirred. He heard Marinette load up the oven with the bread pans and close it carefully. She joined his side, looking at the soup and reaching beside him to the cutting board and adding a pinch more of fresh parsley.
"Keep stirring," Marinette said, stepping away. "I'll go and set the table."
Adrien smiled to himself, feeling the warmth and freshness of the world around him. Life was precious, and theirs, especially so.
Notes:
Chapter 15: Finché
Notes:
It is a Christmas MIRACLE I got this done while I'm home for the holidays. I hope you enjoy this final installment of Cosa Nostra.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The wedding was a beautiful one. Large and white. Orchids and plum blossoms dripped from everything in sight, and the scent was overwhelming in the warm summer heat. Alya fanned herself beneath a large, wide-brimmed, flower-adorned hat from their perch in the back. The ceremony completed, everyone was making their way forward to give their congratulations to the beautiful couple. Nino and Alya didn't move, knowing they'd get their chance later.
"I can't believe how big their families are," she murmured to Nino, who laughed.
"Well, I think it's mostly the Tsurugi's. You remember Adrien and Marinette's wedding," he replied. Alya shivered at the memory.
"I could barely move, let alone dance."
"She did warn us."
"I didn't think she meant five hundred people literally," Alya huffed. They watched for a moment as Felix and Kagami fielded their family and friends, greeting them, kissing them on the cheeks, and exchanging a few words. Somehow, Marinette and Adrien had made their way to the front to greet the couple. They exchanged greetings and congratulations, Marinette speaking a while longer with Felix. Business, obviously.
"How are you liking Felix?" Nino asked, sipping from his drink. The ice was melting rather rapidly, and he didn't want it to muddle the taste. Alya gave a noncommittal shrug.
"He seems alright. It was nice of Chloe to recommend him, and Marinette clearly trusts him. I just need more time to adjust." For the past year, Alya had been acting more or less as the Coccinelle consigliere on top of her underboss responsibilities. Even with the occasional pointer from Chloe, after a while, it had become too much. Especially once she'd discovered she was pregnant. Chloe suggested Felix as their replacement consigliere, and Marinette hired him almost immediately. That was little more than a month ago.
"I still think we could've convinced them to merge," Nino said conspiratorially. Alya raised an incredulous eyebrow.
"You really think Mari would've gone for that?" Nino shrugged in response.
"They do most business deals together anyway, why not make it official?" Alya just laughed and shook her head into her non-alcoholic beverage. After a moment, Alya glanced around, having lost their friends in the crowd.
"Speaking of, where'd they go?"
"Oh, someone wanted to meet with them. Offers, refusals, yknow. I assume they're in the house." Nino made a face as if to say; See what I mean? Alya just ignored it.
"I told her to stop doing that," she huffed.
"I think they're both too involved to stop," Nino replied. "If you run Paris, you don't really get off-hours."
"I suppose you're right," Alya conceded. She paused for a moment. "I think it started after she started getting more public."
"Sounds about right." They sat in silence for a bit, waiting for their friends to return, and watching the newlyweds get swarmed. After a while, the band struck up, and people hit the dance floor and began mingling with each other, giving Felix and Kagami a moment to breathe. Felix held out a hand and guided her to the dance floor, and they both kept their heads close, talking quietly, just to each other.
Deep inside the house, the distant sounds of celebration could barely be heard in the darkened room in which Chat Noir and Ladybug presided. Ladybug sat stoically behind a large, walnut desk, and Chat Noir had taken his perch standing behind her, his hand resting lightly on the back of the leather-clad chair.
A small man stood before them, his shoulders proud, but his eyes shifting and nervous. He was in the middle of speaking.
"—my daughter, Manon. She's being th-threatened by some young men at her school. She tells me it's drug-related, n-narcotics or something. I'm worried for her safety. They keep threatening to h-hurt her, to do h-horrible things to her, and that they'll be protected because of their c-connections.
"I know you must be v-very busy, but I have always been loyal. Always, to you, Chat Noir. You've supported my wife's career since day one, and we've always been so very grateful. But these young men are a danger, and I think it would be a benefit to you, as well, to rid Paris of these foolish boys."
Silence met his grand speech. Ladybug and Chat Noir hardly moved, eyes fixed on the man before them. The bravery he'd found by the end of his tirade melted away as their expressions remained unchanged. Finally, Chat Noir spoke.
"Monsieur Chamack," he said lightly, though his tone was anything but friendly. "You come to us today, on a day of celebration, in the hopes that we might honor your request. Perhaps you thought we might be in better spirits and more lenient because of the joy that surrounds us on this occasion. Furthermore, you declare that you have been loyal all your life. You seem to forget that after our generous loan to Madame Chamack to start her reporting career, you never came back. You never thanked us, you never offered your assistance, you never admitted your debt to us." As Chat Noir's tone grew graver, Monsieur Chamack seemed to lose color. Chat Noir paused to allow the gravity to sink in.
"But you are right. We do not want these foolish young men to taint our dear Paris with their drugs."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," the man cried out, clasping his hands as though in prayer. "I'll never forget your generosity. I am indebted to you." It seemed he would continue his tearful thanks before Chat Noir raised his hand. He cut off, abruptly.
"But we will not kill them, as you so tactfully suggested."
"You must see that the punishment does not fit the crime," Ladybug spoke without missing a beat. "These young men are only making threats. Killing them would be a waste of blood and bullets. We will give them a taste of their own medicine with threats of our own. If they need more convincing, we'll handle that too. But do not ask us to do something you wouldn't be willing to do yourself. As Chat Noir has reminded you, you are in our debt. In the future, when we call upon you for repayment, hesitation is not an option."
"O-of course, yes." The man stuttered, stiffer than before.
"Everything comes with a price, Monsieur Chamack. Your daughter's safety, our resources. Your safety, your resources." Chat Noir's eyes glinted in the low lamplight. "Do we understand each other?"
"Y-yes, Monsieur."
"Good. You are dismissed."
"I think we'll be leaving." Alya and Nino twisted around to see Adrien and Marinette, back from their secretive meeting. They were fairly expressionless, with only a hint of amusement in their eyes from the events going on around them. Marinette hung on Adrien's arm, less of an adornment and more of a balance in their expression of power.
"You'll miss the cake!" Nino replied, indignantly.
"We're making people uncomfortable. Just as well, we have some business to attend to." She said, her smile relaxed.
"Your reputation precedes you," Alya joked, lifting her glass in humor. Adrien laughed and placed his hand on his wife's.
"I'm afraid it tends to, these days," he said, looking down at her. She looked back, as though sharing a private joke. "We'll see you tomorrow evening?"
"I should hope so," Alya said, shooting Marinette a look. "I didn't buy a new dress for nothing." The Couffaines were hosting another one of their floating casinos, and this was proving to be one of the larger ones they had planned. Marinette would be attending if for no other reason than to supervise, but of course, she'd be playing as well. It was the closest thing she and Adrien could get to a proper date these days.
"You're really leaving so soon?" Nino raised a critical eyebrow. Marinette and Adrien looked at each other. Marinette was getting that look in her eyes, slightly mischievous and more than a little flirtatious.
"... I suppose we could dance for one song," Adrien suggested, nodding over to the dance floor. She grinned.
"I like the sound of that," she said. "Will you be joining us?" She asked, glancing over to Alya and Nino.
"Of course," Nino accepted, standing and offering his hand to his wife. All four of them made their way to the outdoor dance floor, and a light and jazzy number began, played by the talented band on stage. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as they avoided eye contact, but the couple hardly seemed perturbed. Adrien grasped Marinette's hand and waist and pulled her close. He looked down at her, that cool sense of yearning he always had around her, obvious in his expression.
"Remember our wedding?" He asked, his face soft.
"Of course," she replied, the corner of her lips pulling up.
"I didn't want to let you go." He pulled her closer still, as though to emphasize his point. Marinette laughed.
"I didn't want you to." They swayed together as the song petered out, only to be replaced by something a little more energetic. Marinette spotted Alya and Nino having the time of their lives, twirling and laughing together. She looked back at Adrien and saw him watching her with a faint smile. He nodded once, pointing his chin back toward the house. She nodded and grabbed his arm as they weaved through the crowd. It wasn't too difficult. When people caught a glimpse of them, they practically dodged out of the way.
Marinette had finished mourning her anonymity. It had never been truly sustainable, and there was something so refreshing about being able to conduct her business the traditional way.
They held hands as they made their way back to the street and to their respective cars.
"Did Nino tell you they've asked us to be godparents?" She asked, squeezing his hand.
"He mentioned it, yes." He grinned. Truly, he was thrilled.
"I'm so happy for them," she sighed, a gentle smile on her lips. Adrien hmmed in agreement, lifting her hand and pressing his lips there.
"See you for dinner?" Marinette asked, reaching up and adjusting Adrien's lapels. He smiled down at her and kissed her briefly.
"Of course, My Lady." She smiled.
"Be safe, Chaton."
"Always," he shot her a wink and held her door open for her, and tipped his hat to her as she drove off. He jumped in his own vehicle and sped away, leaving the celebrations behind him.
Later that night, they met outside their home, having both returned from their respective business. Adrien smiled, opening the door for his wife and stepping in after her. She'd changed since the wedding earlier. Her coat was close to matching his, although her lapels were colored her signature red. As he helped her remove her coat, a double-breasted, pleated red suit dress was revealed beneath, causing his heart palpitations.
She thanked him, kissing him on the cheek, and led him up the stairs, where they began to dress down. They removed their masks and tucked them away, still hidden, though not from each other. Adrien loosened his tie and set his .357 revolver in the top drawer of his bedside table, Marinette placing her pistol in her own. She removed her heels and hung her coat up in their shared closet. Adrien hung his coat and suit jacket next to it.
As she carefully folded her day gloves away, Adrien came up behind her and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She leaned her head back and kissed the side of his neck.
"How was business?" he asked, as they headed back down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Good. We've found another location that would be useful to add into our floating casino rotation," Marinette replied, stepping away from his side and reaching into the cabinet for one of their larger pots and setting it on the stove. "I do have some bigger news as well. We've found someone willing to turn rat and work with us in that underground drug ring."
"That is very good news," Adrien nodded, beginning to chop carrots and onions as Marinette lit the flame on the stove.
"They should be dealt with by the end of the week." Marinette nodded, satisfied.
"I'm glad to hear it. If you need any assistance, let me know." He shot her a wink, and she just smiled.
"How about you?" She asked, pouring some olive oil into the pot and watching Adrien begin on the celery.
"Things are going well. I had to deal with an insubordinate client today, but I just had to threaten him a little bit before he repented and swore loyalty again. He's always been like that, though, so I don't like going too hard on him." He'd finished chopping the veggies, and Marinette took the cutting board from him and swept the small pieces into the hot oil, where they sizzled before she began stirring. He reached into the island drawer and began slicing the zucchini as Marinette reached into the cabinet for tomato sauce, beans, broth, and ditalini.
"Nino really thinks we ought to merge," Adrien spoke up as they waited for the vegetables to soften. Marinette sighed, tiredly.
"It's not a bad idea, but you know how stubborn I am," she replied with a wry smile.
"I'm not saying I agree with him–"
"I know," she reached over and squeezed his hand. "I just think we work well enough like this. I like coming home and being able to describe different days to each other. I especially like being able to choose when we work together and on what. Can you imagine how complicated it might get if we were co-dons?"
"I agree completely–" His sentence was cut short. Marinette was gesticulating with nervous energy now.
"And what would happen to our underbosses and consigliere's? We'd have to choose which one to keep, and that's a difficult decision."
"Of course–"
"I just think we're better off working like this, don't you?" Marinette said, looking into Adrien's eyes, who had come quite close. He gripped her waist and looked at her with loving amusement in his eyes.
"I do." He leaned down and kissed her temple. She relaxed under his touch and closed her eyes.
"Good," she replied, relieved. "Now," she said, pushing him away slightly. "Can you hand me the tomato sauce?"
"With pleasure," he said with a wink.
The minestrone was finished quickly, and Marinette swept off to set the table, Adrien behind her carrying the large pot and a hot pad. Adrien snuck back to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of pinot noir and two wine glasses. Marinette smiled, but raised an eyebrow at him. Adrien just raised an eyebrow back, conspiratorially.
They sat across from each other, and Marinette served them both generously. They ate in comfortable silence for a bit before Adrien broke it.
"Our anniversary is coming up," he mentioned. She grinned.
"I'm pleased you remembered."
"Is there something in particular you'd like to do to celebrate?" He asked, blowing gently on the spoonful of minestrone before him. She pursed her lips, thinking.
"I'd love to go dancing," she sighed, dreamily. "But it can't be too public; we'd make a scene."
"Fair enough," he smiled. "I'll look into it. There might be a private bar we can visit that isn't one of our own."
"Thank you," she said, sipping her wine.
"No trouble at all, amore mio." They hit a short lull in the conversation, but it didn't last long.
"I liked dancing with you today," Marinette spoke, gazing at him thoughtfully.
"I did as well. It reminded me of our wedding." Adrien smiled back, reminiscing.
"Yes..." She trailed off, staring off into the distance as though daydreaming. Adrien watched her for a moment before standing and offering his hand. She looked up at him in surprise.
"Come on. You'll need some practice if we're going to wow everyone on the dance floor," he grinned, teasingly.
"I need practice? You must be mistaken," Marinette replied, taking his hand with a grin and a competitive glint in her eye. "I seem to remember leading you for part of our dance earlier today." Adrien laughed as he guided her to the living room.
"Me? I would never. I'm classically trained, you know." He said with that feline grin of his and switched on the radio. Something slow and warm filled the air, and he pulled her close, grasping her hand in his.
"Adrien Agreste, I happen to know you have a thing for powerful women," she teased as the tune faded away.
"Only one," he said, looking down at her, dopishly. As the lively, bouncy tune of Ça, c’est Paris came on, he immediately swept her up into a Charleston. Mon Dio, he loved hearing her laugh.
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Notes:
Can you tell I like the Godfather?
Anyway, thank you all for all of your love and support, this was really fun to write! And stay tuned, because I've got another bullet in the barrel by the name of Marinette's Fashion Sketchbook (coming soon).
I made a LOT of fanart for this fic and if you'd like to look at all of it in its full glory, here you go: Cosa Nostra Fanart Folder
Oh, and here are the links to the fashion in this chapter:
Mari's Coat
Mari's Dress
Adrien's Suit