Cutting Losses

On their next meeting, Nathalie made a deal with her lawyer. She was going to have her own case and her own defence. She agreed on full cooperation with the authorities, both the Chinese and the French. She offered to share the contents of her tablet and the documents she found on the cloud only to learn that the French authorities already reached the data on the cloud.

That part was understandable. But then she learned that the Chinese authorities already cloned the contents of her tablet. That disturbed her quite a bit.

"They have the access to everything? My codes? My diary? All the schedules?" Nathalie asked exasperatedly.

"Yes they do, since the day you were transferred here." The lawyer confirmed.

Nathalie stared into the space before her. She was always a secluded person. She never exposed herself. It was always about representing the company, she represented Gabriel, not her, when she stood in front of people to make an argument or engaged in heavy business negotiations. That was not her, that was just business, right?

But who was she? What was she? What kind of a person was she? She had no clue, she read her own diary and had no clue. The prospect that someone somewhere had read everything about her and possibly knew more about her than she knew herself frightened her. She felt cold sweat and shivers down her spine. She shook visibly.

"I understand that is hard to take in, once you are arrested, there is no privacy." The lawyer tried to comfort the woman.

"I just … I do not remember anything in the last fifteen years except the stuff I read here." Nathalie spoke quietly.

"Perhaps that is a good thing. Perhaps you should remember what you were … before." Her lawyer replied gently. She was not a psychologist, but she knew the woman felt disturbed.

"Before … before I started working for Gabriel? Before I ever met him?" Nathalie allowed herself to try and remember any early memory, family, parents, childhood friends.

"Yes, why don't you try with that?" Her lawyer suggested. "It is not common to get psychological help here but I might be able to get you one if you want." The fact that Nathalie refused to get one in the beginning was making things harder. Her client was silent and deep in thought. (Note: The statement is totally based on Wikipedia)

"I … might like that. I'd like to be able to talk to someone." Nathalie finally admitted. She seldom really talked with anyone. It was always about schedules and what needed to be done. "I never really had someone to just talk to I guess. You know about everything and nothing."

"Listen, I have one more hour. Why don't we just sit and talk, as if we are sitting on some terrace and having coffee?" The lawyer proposed and visibly relaxed.

Nathalie followed her example. It was a rough start, but the lawyer, apparently, knew what idle chat was, and the two of them soon engaged into a conversation about everything and nothing, they found something in common to talk about, they found something else to make fun with and after a while, Nathalie felt she might actually feel like a person again.

(That might make her look at what she did in different light and actually feel guilty for it).

Gabriel decided to study how Gabriel Fashions worked in the past fifteen years. The numbers looked good, huge growth, large income, sales risen. He was obviously doing well. That was probably thanks to Nathalie, she was an assistant but she had a feeling for business, she always helped with a suggestion here and there.

Then he went through the archive of the designs. He noticed how he pulled the butterfly theme through his designs year in and year out, some things never went out of style. He noticed most of them were modelled by Emilie, she became the face of the brand. Artistically speaking, the photos were perfect. But he wondered about the designs themselves. They looked perfect on Emilie, but would the same design be so perfect for any other woman? Several of these designs, would, for sure, be a picture of elegance on any woman of the right proportions. But he was certain that some of those designs were made just for Emilie. There was no way any other woman would ever pull out some of those pieces like she did. He studied his own work and how it evolved. He frowned at a few, he wondered what was he thinking for the other, he was amazed by the third.

There were comments from the fashion critiques attached to the images, many of them were from Audrey Bourgeois. He knew her ways of throwing an insult while it sounded like a praise and praising something while it sounded as if she was cold and indifferent towards it. He was satisfied with the critiques, he was satisfied with the business and he was generally satisfied with the artistic quality of his designs.

He went through the pictures again and looked at Emilie. So this was his wife, this was the woman he married, and this was the woman who gave birth to his son. She remembered how he proclaimed her his muse early on, when she started modelling for his company. And indeed she was. Because she had that look. It was hard to explain, but everything on her looked expensive, she had that million dollar look. Indeed she had.

The dresses she modelled always looked delicate and exquisite. The suits she wore were always elegant and smooth. It was easy to design for her. She would look great wearing a towel. She probably looked great wearing a towel, she was a model. She looked fantastic. He searched for the photo of their wedding. Everything was picture perfect. The arrangement, the space, the light, the posture, polite smiles and power poses. There was that look in their eyes, they observed the world from above, to anyone who looked at the photo. They were a power couple indeed.

He went through more of her photos. He remembered how modelling was just a side job for her. She really wanted to be an actress, she was never shy to admit what she really wanted, he remembered that clearly. She claimed this was just a temporary deal for her and that she wanted to act, not in anything, oh no, she had the looks that would have brought her a role in a film easily. She wanted to act in artistic films or in the theatre. He despised the actresses in the theatre. He loved the theatrics, but when it was executed and/or orchestrated by him.

So he knew how she wanted to be and actress. But from the amount of material he saw, he concluded she must have changed her mind and decided that modelling was better career for her. And he would agree, she was good for his business indeed.

(Do not ask me to go into details, I do not have a clue about fashion).

She often modelled together with their son. First as a baby, hen a toddler. Then there were more and more photos of the boy on his own without his mother. The boy clearly imitated his mother. Their eyes were definitely not the only thing that was the same on them. The hair, the way they carried themselves, the way they smiled, that look and the expression on their faces. The boy was a copy of his mother.

But that was the boy who ripped the pin off his suit, that was the boy who had stolen his miraculous, and that was the boy who defeated him so that he was apprehended and in custody in a nondescript detention facility somewhere in China (it was Lhasa but it started to be all the same for him). And he hated the boy, he despised the boy. No, he could not indulge himself in such intense emotions, that was not Agreste like. Gabriel Agreste decided that he disliked Adrien.

And that was the boy that had become the face of his fashion brand after Emilie disappeared?

He went through the photos of various designs.

Did that stuff really sell? He checked the data. It did. He could not believe it. The sales of the items he modelled did excellent on the market. But these pieces were leisure. Of course they were elegant for that sort of clothing but that was casual. He did not do casual. He was never casual.

Then he saw the photos of his son in a suit and a bowler hat. Those photos were marked as most viewed and most popular items on the website of his brand as well as the most shared photos and so on and so forth. So he studied the designs. The suit was acceptable. He wondered if the choice that a fourteen year old boy modelled that suit was right. Especially with that hairstyle. It was perfectly styled of course, but it was perfectly styled in wild and untamed not in slick and stern style that he preferred. Even the hat did not help that hairstyle. The design was decent. The hat was covered in feathers. He studied the hat intently. And then he read the information attached. He designed the suit. But the hat he did not design, the hat was the design of Marinette Dupain Cheng. And he remembered that name clearly, not from fifteen years ago, that was the name of the girl who fought him, that was the name of the girl who ripped the brooch off from Nathalie. He read that she won some competition that was held in school and it was him who organised it. Since when did Gabriel Agreste organize fashion and design competitions in schools? Was he out of his mind? When did he find time for that? And why would he? Was he so desperate to find new designers who would work for his company?

It was late in the night. There were breaking news and a live stream from Tvi, from Paris. Gabriel never followed the news, that was a job for Nathalie, she was the filter, she would pass him the information she deemed important. But Nathalie was not there and he clicked on the notification.

It was an interview with a girl who ran a blog devoted to Ladybug and Chat Noir. Well he might as well listen for a bit. She apologized for some leaked photos and for posting the interview with Lila Rossi and claimed the mentioned girl also spilled a bunch of lies related to Hawk Moth. Well Gabriel remembered that name. Lila Rossi sent him what he needed to reach the documents on the cloud. He wanted to search for that particular interview instantly when he heard the announcement. They will continue the interview with two more guests, Marinette Dupain Cheng and Adrien Agreste.

That glued him to the screen. They looked like two kids from the neighbourhood, literally any neighbourhood. Adrien was not wearing designer clothes, any designer clothes, let alone his brand. Neither did she, at least not any designer known to him, and there were fifteen years he missed, but there was no label, so no designer, he decided. His boy had been on a TV show before, obviously, he was well behaved and well versed, but just stop messing with that hair of yours, leave it alone, it looks like a mess as it is already.

They even talked like two kids from the neighbourhood. She wanted to be a designer, he was a model. What a cliché. They spoke about how they spent their school break? That was an interview to be published on a TV station? They might have picked up any random kids from the street for that. There were few photos from the temple and the kids spoke about the battles with akumas and sentimonsters. There was not much new to hear. He was disappointed.

Finally a question about him. Yes. The boy looked disturbed, but not as much as Gabriel would like him to be. The man wanted to see anger, he wanted to see rage, he wanted to see deep and inconsolable sorrow that would spiral into depression given time. He wanted to see a wreck of a human being that would cry into the camera and beg his father to take him back after what he did.

Suddenly the conversation switched to the identities of the superheroes. He remembered that somewhere in his notes he actually suspected Adrien was Chat Noir but he dismissed it. He also noted Marinette Dupain Cheng as a potential Ladybug, but neither proved it nor dismissed it.

That would explain a lot.

But just as he started to make plans, he had to dismiss them. Because the said superheroes walked into the TV studio. His own son was obviously smitten with the girl in the magical suit to the point that he looked plain stupid. That did not prevent him from possessively glaring at the boy in a catsuit when he touched that Marinette girl.

Did he raise that? Was that his son? And that was the boy who snatched the butterfly miraculous off from his chest. For all he knew, the boy still had it. The wave of disappointment washed over Gabriel Agreste, because he could not even say that he was defeated by an opponent he deemed worthy. Then again, this was good, he could always use little emotional blackmail to get his pin back, the boy was obviously clueless. The girl probably kept the brooch. The plans and the schemes started to form in his head on their own. He usually discussed all his plans with Nathalie before he developed them further or dismissed them. This time he was on his own (for now, he thought) so he schemed and planned and made notes.

It was slightly before the dawn that Gabriel remembered there was something labelled as an interview with Lila Rossi. The links he found lead to videos that have been removed in the meantime. What was there? He had to know. But he did not have Nathalie's expertize to dig out the information himself.

His lawyer arrived and informed him that he placed the requests to return the pin and the brooch that were actually butterfly and peacock miraculous, but that was not stated so in the request. Those two items were not listed in the list of possessions that were either on him, or on Nathalie, or in the container they used as their accommodation. Gabriel sighed.

"Of course they were not. Those two items were forcibly taken from Nathalie and me. They were stolen by Adrien Agreste and his accomplice Marinette Dupain Cheng." Gabriel answered far more calmly than the lawyer expected at first. "We are going to sue them" Gabriel raised his nose.

The lawyer knew better than to contradict that. He informed his client on the cost of the lawsuit and other potential financial loses that could arise if they lose the case (that the lawyer deemed certain but never voiced out loud).

"I expect us to win." Gabriel replied calmly. "I expect you cut all financial means for Adrien, him and his accomplice will not be able to afford a lawsuit at all and will return those items."

The lawyer made a note. He reminded himself he was paid well and he was paid by the hour. He decided not to tell Gabriel he was not able to make any financial decisions about Adrien, that was already done, he was not able to take away what was already given to the boy.

"I want you to find me an interview with Lila Rossi that she gave at some time during the last week or two." Gabriel demanded.

The lawyer made a note.

"The French and the Chinese authorities have questions for you regarding the disappearance of Emilie Agreste." The lawyer stated calmly the actual reason why he was there.

"What about that?" Gabriel frowned.

"Well, they want to know your account of her exact disappearance and known whereabouts." The lawyer continued.

"What?" The designer shouted. How dare they? That was preposterous.

"You see, they have reached a substantial proof that her whereabouts were known to you this whole time, that she or her body was kept in the basement area of the Agreste mansion." The lawyer continued.

"We should go through the potential list of questions, sir." The lawyer told him.

"Sir, do you want to add murder to the list of criminal charges facing you?" The lawyer asked flatly.

"Murder?" The designer cut in incredulously.

"The circumstances of your wife's departure are unknown. There is evidence that her body was stored in a device in the basement of your house." The lawyer continued.

"You mean her body is gone?" Gabriel screamed.

The lawyer touched his glasses again. It was clearly just a nervous tick. He was not ready for this question. The last thing he mentioned was the evidence from the basement.

"The device in your basement is empty." The lawyer stated a fact he knew for certain.

"Where is she?" Gabriel snarled.

"I am not acquainted with the whereabouts of Emilie Agreste, sir." The lawyer replied coldly.

"Have they taken her?" The designer screamed out with a note of despair in his voice.

There was something ambiguous in the word they. The word taken held meaning.

"The authorities have not located her yet." It took some time for the lawyer to decide what the actual answer he should offer in this case. "The authorities wan to know what state the body was, was she alive or dead? Why was she there?" The lawyer asked with an attempt of authority.

"I do not remember." Gabriel replied quietly. He knew about that only what he read in the notes. She was definitely not alive. He wanted the ring and the earrings to bring her back. That was probably understandable because she was the face of his company. He was probably getting desperate if that boy of hers became the face of the company. That same boy who took his miraculous. That must have been the reason why he took it.

"There was some information on that device you have." The lawyer continued patiently. "The authorities have the copy of all your files." He continued with a warning.

"She fell ill." Gabriel replied quietly. "She was in a coma." He continued as he pondered what would be acceptable answer. He could not really admit she was dead even to himself, never to anyone else. "I wanted to bring her back." The man finished.

"Do you have any medical records?" The lawyer asked while he was making notes.

"You want Emilie's medical records?" Gabriel asked with a threat in his voice.

"It would help your case, sir." The man fixed his glasses. He had a vague idea that perhaps he was not paid that well.

"I … my assistant, Nathalie Sancouer should know where to get those." The designer connected his hands behind his back and looked away from his lawyer.

"Okay, thank you. I will assemble your statement your statement now so you can sign it." The lawyer was typing quickly on his tablet.

Gabriel stood there with his back turned towards his lawyer. He did not care if he was in prison. He did not want to get out, particularly. But he wanted to be in control. He wanted to pull the strings. He wanted his power. And he was becoming aware that he had little power left.