Chat Noir landed lightly on the rooftop ledge just outside his bedroom window, his black boots barely making a sound against the stone. The city was quiet now. The party was long over. Marinette was safe at home. And yet... something felt off.

He narrowed his eyes at the tall windows that looked into his room.

The light was on.

That was strange.

He always turned it off before leaving — especially when sneaking out. It was the first thing Nathalie would notice if she did one of her surprise check-ins. But he'd been careful. He was sure of it.

Adrien dropped his transformation with a sigh.

Behind him, Plagg appeared and floated a little lower, yawning.

"Tell me again why we're not sleeping on a rooftop with a leftover macaron and a half-empty water bottle?"

Adrien didn't answer. His hand clenched slightly.

Plagg drifted closer, immediately picking up on the tension in Adrien's shoulders.

"Wait. Why's your light on?"

"Exactly," Adrien muttered.

He crept along the roof until he reached the smaller bathroom window on the side — the one he always left just barely unlatched. With a quiet push, it creaked open. No alarms. No footsteps.

Good.

He slipped inside silently, landing on the cool tile floor of the en suite bathroom. The room was dim, but the soft yellow glow from the bedroom beyond spilled in, casting shadows on the counter.

"Think it's Nathalie?" Plagg whispered, peeking over Adrien's shoulder.

"Maybe. Or worse," Adrien murmured. "Could be my father."

Plagg gulped.

Adrien crept toward the door, careful not to make a sound as he nudged it open. The bathroom opened directly into his room, and he scanned it carefully from behind the doorframe. His eyes flicked over the space—bed perfectly made, computer still off, photos untouched on the wall.

Nothing seemed disturbed.

But the desk lamp was glowing. It was subtle, casting only a pool of light over the half-finished sketch he'd been working on — a fashion design inspired by Marinette, no less.

His heart jumped into his throat.

Had someone seen it?

Adrien waited another moment, listening for footsteps in the hall. Silence.

Finally, he stepped out, keeping his movements light. Plagg hovered by the bathroom door like he might duck back in at any second.

"You're really pushing your luck, kid," Plagg muttered. "You should've stayed at the party. Or at least crashed on Nino's couch. That croissant pillow was deluxe."

"I couldn't stay out all night," Adrien said softly. "They'd know something was up."

He reached the desk, clicked off the lamp, and quickly tucked the sketch into a drawer. Just in case.

There was no sign of anyone. Maybe — hopefully — he'd left the light on by accident. He was too distracted at the time, anyway. His mind had been full of Marinette's laugh, the way her eyes sparkled when she teased him, the weight of her hand in his when they danced.

The memory warmed his chest.

Until the next thought replaced it: the interview.

Gabriel Agreste would be seeing Marinette face-to-face. Possibly as soon as tomorrow.

Adrien sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

What if he'd messed everything up?

"She's strong," he whispered to himself. "She can handle him."

Still, doubt whispered at the edges of his thoughts.

"I don't like this," Plagg said, yawning. "This is how the downfall of great relationships starts. Secrets. Hidden lights. Creepy dads lurking in corners."

Adrien managed a half-smile. "We'll worry about it in the morning."

With that, he tossed his shirt onto the back of a chair, kicked off his boots, and slid under the covers.

Plagg flopped onto his pillow with a sleepy little groan, curling up like a shadowy cat loaf.

"If he yells at you, I'll cataclysm him."

Adrien let out a soft chuckle and rolled onto his side, facing the window. The light from the city flickered faintly through the curtains. Somewhere across the rooftops, Marinette was probably asleep — or maybe awake, like him, replaying the night in her head.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the good parts. The dancing. The laughter. Her smile.

But the glow of that lamp, and the tight knot of unease in his stomach, refused to fade.

***********

Adrien blinked awake to the early rays of sunlight spilling through the edges of his curtains. For a moment, he was still tangled in the warmth of sleep, his face pressed into his pillow, hair tousled, blankets kicked half off. It was quiet — eerily quiet — but familiar. Safe.

Until memory returned like a rush of wind.

The party.

The music.

The dance.

Marinette.

His heart fluttered at the thought of her, and a dopey grin pulled at his lips.

Last night had felt like a dream. The way her dress shimmered gold beneath the chandeliers, how her hands trembled just slightly before resting in his... how she laughed like it was the most natural thing in the world, even with all that was going on. Chloe's drama. Lila's meltdown. The fight. The chaos. Somehow, through all of it, Marinette had stayed shining. Unshakeable.

And she'd come with him.

She'd been his date.

He let the memory of her in his arms during that slow dance linger a little longer before sitting up with a yawn.

Plagg was snoring beside him, curled up in a scarf Adrien had tossed onto the bed. Adrien chuckled softly and reached for his phone. No messages from Nathalie.

That was... unusual.

But maybe she hadn't noticed.

Or maybe she was letting Gabriel handle it.

He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So much for sneaking in unnoticed..."

Marinette had told him last night that she'd submitted her internship application to Gabriel Agreste Designs. Which meant that sometime this week — likely today or tomorrow — she would be sitting across from Gabriel, hoping for a chance.

Adrien's smile faded.

Because while Marinette had faced down akumas and villains and the worst kinds of school drama, there was one person he genuinely wasn't sure she could handle:

His father.

Gabriel wasn't just intimidating. He was unpredictable. Cold. Calculating.

And Adrien had snuck out — publicly.

He dragged a hand over his face and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Let's get this over with."

Downstairs, the house felt unusually tense. The staff weren't bustling around like usual. No sound of Nathalie tapping away on a tablet. No news playing on the living room screen.

Just the quiet tick of a clock and the faint clink of porcelain.

Adrien followed the scent of coffee to the dining room and hesitated in the doorway.

There he was.

Gabriel Agreste, seated at the head of the long table, dressed in a sleek black suit, sipping coffee with a calmness that immediately put Adrien on edge.

His father's eyes flicked up.

"You're awake," he said flatly. "Sit."

Adrien obeyed, sliding into the chair across from him. A plate with toast and fruit had already been set out. Silent tension settled between them like fog.

Gabriel took another sip of coffee before reaching for his tablet.

"I assume you know why we're having this conversation."

Adrien kept his expression neutral.

"Because I forgot to turn off my light?"

Gabriel turned the screen around.

It displayed a post on Zoo — the social media teenagers used these days — tagged in bold:

@ChloeB's Birthday Bash of the Year 🎉👑

The video was paused on a moment Adrien recognized too well. He was laughing, clearly mid-conversation with Marinette, who stood beside him in gold.

"Public," Gabriel said quietly. "Very public."

Adrien swallowed hard. "I wasn't doing anything wrong."

"You were there without permission. With a girl who's more of a distraction than an asset. I expect better judgment."

There it was. The cold dismissal.

Adrien's jaw tightened. "She's not a distraction."

Gabriel raised a brow. "She's applying for an internship with this company. Do you realize how inappropriate that looks? My son fraternizing with an applicant? Smiling at her? Touching her? Kissing her hand?"

"We didn't—!"

"Perception is everything, Adrien."

A long silence fell.

Gabriel set the tablet aside and steepled his fingers.

"You will be grounded. No unnecessary outings this week. You will not interfere with the selection process. And if Miss Dupain-Cheng is interviewed—"

"When," Adrien corrected quietly.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed.

"When she's interviewed," Adrien said again, "you'll treat her fairly."

Gabriel stood, straightening his cuffs. "I will treat her as I would any candidate. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Adrien said nothing, but something behind his ribs curled tight. He knew that tone. That precision.

Gabriel wasn't just disappointed — he was preparing for battle.

And Marinette? She was walking straight into the lion's den.

Adrien clenched his fists beneath the table.

He should've known better. Gabriel wasn't done. He never was.

His father turned, walking toward the tall windows that overlooked the garden. The morning light cast sharp lines across his face, highlighting the severe expression that had, over time, become a permanent fixture.

"You disappoint me," Gabriel said, voice low and controlled. "I give you everything—education, a home, a legacy. And in return, you disobey me and flaunt it publicly."

Adrien stood, trying to keep his voice even. "I wasn't flaunting anything. I went to a party, like a normal teenager. I danced with my friends. That's all."

"You danced with her." Gabriel's tone cut like ice. "You were photographed with her."

Adrien took a breath. "You mean Marinette."

Gabriel finally turned, his gaze sharp and assessing. "She's not your equal, Adrien. I hope you realize that. She's a schoolgirl with talent, yes, but also a tendency for emotional entanglements and chaos. Hardly a quality I'm looking for in a designer."

"She's more than talented. She's brilliant," Adrien snapped, his composure slipping. "She's everything this industry needs—fresh, creative, driven. You'd be lucky to have her in your company."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Do not confuse affection with objectivity. You always did let your emotions cloud your judgment."

Adrien's jaw clenched. "And you never let yours in at all."

The room went still.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed into cold slits. "You're grounded. Indefinitely. No phone. No visits. No parties. No Marinette."

Adrien stepped forward, heat rising in his chest. "That's not your call."

"Oh, but it is," Gabriel said, voice like steel. "Because I still control everything you are and everything you have. Until you prove you can handle it, I will decide what's best."

Adrien opened his mouth to argue, but Gabriel cut him off.

"And if she truly wants to be taken seriously," Gabriel added, "then I expect her to prove herself on merit—not charm. If she shows up tomorrow, I'll evaluate her exactly as I would any stranger."

Adrien's hands curled into fists. "Fine. Do that. Just make sure your judgment isn't clouded by your pride."

Gabriel didn't reply.

He simply turned back to the window, the conversation clearly over.

Adrien stood there for a moment longer, heart hammering, a dozen angry responses burning on his tongue. But what was the point?

His father never listened.

He spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the dining room door behind him.

Upstairs, Plagg hovered in the air with wide eyes. "Yikes. I heard all of that."

Adrien ran a hand through his hair, pacing. "He's not going to play fair. I can feel it."

"He's jealous," Plagg muttered. "You found someone he can't control."

Adrien looked out the window toward the city. Somewhere out there, Marinette was probably getting ready. Rehearsing answers. Picking an outfit. Believing in the opportunity.

And she had no idea what she was walking into.