Chloé crossed her arms, standing in front of Nathaniel with an irritated expression. "So, let me get this straight—you're sitting with them now? Laughing, joking, acting like nothing happened?"

Nathaniel sighed, rubbing his temples. "Chloé, I don't want to do this anymore. It's pointless."

"Pointless?" she scoffed. "After everything we planned? You were so sure Marinette would come running to you once Gurvinder was out of the picture!"

Nathaniel clenched his fists but kept his voice calm. "Yeah, and I was wrong." He looked away. "She doesn't love me, Chloé. And Gurvi… he's not the villain we made him out to be."

Chloé narrowed her eyes. "Oh please. You think he's some kind of saint just because he's got a few scars and a sob story?"

"No," Nathaniel replied firmly. "I think he's someone who understands what it's like to lose, to fight, to struggle. And I respect that."

Chloé scoffed, flipping her hair. "Ugh, you sound just like the rest of them. Everyone's falling for his stupid little act!"

Nathaniel shook his head. "It's not an act, Chloé. Maybe you should open your eyes for once."

She glared at him, but for the first time, there was a flicker of uncertainty in her expression.

Chloé huffed, stepping closer to Nathaniel, her voice dripping with frustration. "You're seriously telling me you're choosing him over everything we planned?"

Nathaniel crossed his arms. "I'm not choosing anything, Chloé. I'm just done playing these childish games. Gurvinder isn't my enemy."

Sabrina, standing beside Chloé, fidgeted nervously. "Maybe Nathaniel has a point, Chloé. I mean… everyone at school respects Gurvinder now. Maybe—"

"Oh, don't start, Sabrina!" Chloé snapped, glaring at her. "You're always switching sides the moment things get tough!"

Sabrina shrunk back, mumbling, "I just think… maybe we were wrong about him."

Chloé rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. He's just some thug with a sob story. You really think Marinette chose him because of love? It's just pity, Nathan! The moment she realizes who Adrien really is to her, she'll drop that loser like a bad trend."

Nathaniel clenched his fists. "You really don't get it, do you? Marinette isn't like you, Chloé. She chose him because he makes her happy. And unlike us, he doesn't try to manipulate people into loving him."

Chloé's face twisted in anger. "Fine. Be a fool, Nathan. But don't come crying to me when Marinette leaves him and you realize you wasted your chance."

With that, she turned on her heel, storming off, leaving Sabrina standing awkwardly next to Nathaniel, who let out a deep sigh. "She's never gonna change, is she?" he muttered.

Sabrina gave a small, guilty shrug. "She doesn't like losing, Nathan."

Nathaniel scoffed. "Well, maybe she needs to learn how to."

Chloé stormed into her father's office, slamming the door behind her. "Daddy! You need to do something about that filthy thug Gurvinder Singh!" she shrieked, her face red with frustration.

André Bourgeois, the Mayor of Paris, sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Chloé, sweetheart, what are you talking about now?"

She threw her arms in the air. "He's ruining everything! Everyone at school is obsessed with him! Even Nathaniel doesn't hate him anymore! He's stealing all the attention—Marinette, the school, even Adrien—Daddy, you have to do something!"

André leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Chloé, I can't just 'do something' because you don't like someone."

Chloé stomped her foot. "You're the mayor! That means you can do something! He's violent! He beat up twelve men, and people are treating him like some kind of hero! He's dangerous, Daddy! What if he hurts me next?"

André frowned. "The reports say it was self-defense, Chloé. And from what I've seen online, he was trying to help Marinette."

Chloé gasped dramatically. "So you're on his side now? Ugh! This is ridiculous! I knew I should've asked Maman instead! At least she knows how to get things done!"

At the mention of Audrey, André stiffened slightly, but before he could respond, Chloé turned on her heel and stormed out of the office. She needed to figure out another way to take Gurvinder down. If her father wouldn't help, she'd find someone who would.

As Chloé reached the door, something inside her snapped. The memory of that humiliating moment—the way Gurvinder had slapped her, not once but multiple times, in front of the entire school—flashed in her mind.

Her hands clenched into fists. Her pride was shattered that day, her reputation in ruins. People had laughed at her. They had cheered for him. No one had ever dared to humiliate her like that.

She turned back, her anger dissolving into shaky breaths as tears welled up in her eyes. "Daddy…" Her voice broke.

André looked up, surprised at the sudden change in her demeanor. "Chloé?"

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she ran to him, collapsing into his arms like a wounded child. "You don't get it," she sobbed. "He hit me, Daddy! In front of everyone! Again and again—like I was nothing! And now… now everyone loves him! No one cares about what he did to me!"

André's face darkened. He hadn't forgotten the incident, but seeing his daughter like this—crying, trembling—made something stir inside him.

"He can't just get away with this," Chloé whispered, gripping his jacket tightly. "You have to do something, Daddy… please."

André let out a slow breath, his hands resting on her shoulders. His Chloé was a spoiled brat, yes, but she was still his daughter. If what she wanted was justice—wasn't it his duty as a father to protect her?

He sighed, then picked up his phone. "I'll see what I can do."

Gabriel sat in his dimly lit office, reviewing the latest fashion sketches for his upcoming collection. His mind was still lingering on Marinette's design from the competition—it was far more advanced than he had expected from an amateur.

Just then, his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID. André Bourgeois.

With a sigh, he picked up the phone. "Gabriel Agreste."

On the other end, André's voice was urgent. "We need to talk. It's about Gurvinder Singh."

Gabriel's brows furrowed slightly. Him? Again? He leaned back in his chair. "Go on."

André's voice turned cold. "He humiliated my daughter. In front of the entire school. And now, he's being painted as some sort of hero? It's unacceptable."

Gabriel's fingers tapped against his desk. "What exactly are you asking me to do, André?"

There was a pause before André spoke again. "You have connections. You know people who can make someone… disappear from the public eye. I want Gurvinder out of this city, out of my daughter's life."

Gabriel chuckled lightly, though there was no humor in it. "You seem to forget, André, I don't just make people disappear—I make them irrelevant."

He closed his eyes, considering the possibilities.

Gurvinder had already started gaining attention online. His presence was growing. But for someone like Gabriel, there were ways to turn admiration into condemnation.

"I may have a better solution," Gabriel said finally. "Give me some time."

André exhaled in relief. "Thank you, Gabriel. I knew you'd understand."

Gabriel ended the call, steepling his fingers as he stared at his desk.

"Gurvinder Singh…" he murmured.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Time to see what you're really made of.

Marinette sat with her parents at the dining table, papers spread out in front of them. The air was heavy with frustration as they read through the legal documents. Tom had been on multiple calls all day, trying to find a lawyer who would take Gurvinder's case.

Sabine rubbed her temples. "This man... he's really trying to throw Gurvinder under the bus."

"He's not just throwing him under the bus, he's driving it," Marinette muttered bitterly, scrolling through her phone. "He's denying everything. Saying Gurvinder is a liar, a thug… that he brought this all on himself."

Tom clenched his jaw. "The problem is, technically, his uncle still has legal guardianship over him. Without proper documentation proving his abuse, it's our word against his."

Marinette's fists clenched. "We have proof! The hospital records, the scars on his body—how can they ignore all of that?"

Sabine exhaled, looking at Tom. "We need to find a lawyer who's willing to challenge this head-on."

"And fast," Tom agreed.

Marinette looked between them. "What if we go public? The internet already loves him—if we show people the truth, his uncle won't be able to twist the story."

Tom hesitated. "That could work, but it also makes Gurvinder vulnerable. His uncle could use that against him, claim we're manipulating public opinion."

Marinette huffed. "So what do we do? Just let that monster win?"

Sabine placed a hand on her shoulder. "No, sweetheart. We'll fight this. But we need to do it the right way."

Marinette looked down at her phone, her heart aching. Gurvinder was inside, resting. He had already fought so much—now it was their turn to fight for him.

"Then we better find a lawyer who's not afraid to take this case," she said firmly.

Gurvinder walked into the room, still half-asleep, scratching his back lazily. His tank top barely covered his broad shoulders, and with each step, his toned arms flexed slightly. The scars running along his skin were stark under the warm kitchen light—some faint, some deep, each one telling a story of the battles he had fought.

Marinette glanced up, and for a moment, she forgot about the papers in front of her. Her breath hitched slightly. No matter how many times she had seen him like this, the sight always struck her—his strength, his resilience, and the quiet exhaustion behind his movements.

Tom and Sabine both looked at him as well, concern flickering in their eyes.

"Morning," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Marinette sighed. "It's evening, dummy."

He blinked, looking around. "Huh. Could've fooled me."

Tom cleared his throat. "Gurvinder, we need to talk."

Gurvi stretched, wincing slightly as his bruised muscles protested. "That's never a good start to a conversation," he muttered, dropping onto a chair. "What's up?"

Marinette swallowed, pushing the papers toward him. "It's your uncle."

Gurvi stopped moving. His lazy, tired expression sharpened in an instant. He looked at the papers, then back at them. "What did he do now?"

Marinette took a deep breath, gripping the papers tightly before pushing them toward Gurvinder.

"Your uncle… he's denying everything," she said carefully, watching his reaction. "He's calling you a liar, saying you made everything up. That you're just a thug who wrecked your own life."

Gurvinder didn't move at first. His fingers lightly drummed against the table, his face unreadable. But Marinette knew him well enough now—she saw the way his jaw tensed, the way his grip subtly tightened.

"He's trying to bury you, Gurvi," Tom added, his voice firm. "If we don't fight this, he could ruin everything you've built here."

Gurvi let out a slow exhale, staring at the papers in front of him. His tired eyes flicked over the legal jargon, the signatures, the lies written in black ink. His uncle was smart—he always had been. Twisting words, twisting people, twisting Gurvinder's life into something ugly.

Marinette reached out, placing her hand on his. "We won't let him win."

He finally looked up at her, something dark simmering behind his gaze. Then, with a slow nod, he leaned back in his chair. "Alright."

Sabine hesitated. "Alright…?"

He cracked his neck, stretching out his sore muscles before meeting their eyes again. "Then let's fight."

Marinette groaned, rubbing her temples. "It's not a street fight, dummy."

Gurvinder smirked slightly, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah, I figured. No steel rods this time, huh?"

"Gurvi!" Marinette scolded, exasperated. "This is serious! It's legal stuff—courtrooms, lawyers, evidence! You can't just punch your way through it!"

He huffed, leaning back. "Doesn't mean I won't win."

Tom crossed his arms. "Winning here means proving the truth, Gurvinder. It means taking him down the right way, not just surviving his abuse."

Gurvi's smirk faded. He glanced at Marinette, who was still glaring at him, then at Sabine and Tom, who were watching him carefully. This wasn't just about fighting anymore.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. "Alright. No punching. No rods. Just… court." He muttered the last word like it was a foreign concept.

Marinette sighed but squeezed his hand. "We're in this together, okay? We'll win this the smart way."

He gave her a small nod, but in his mind, he knew—his uncle wouldn't play fair.

Marinette crossed her arms, pacing the room. "Well, first, we need to prove you're telling the truth. Your uncle is denying everything, but there has to be evidence somewhere."

Gurvinder leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "He's smart. He won't leave anything behind that can be used against him."

Tom nodded. "Which is why we need to attack this from a different angle. Witnesses, financial records—anything that can show his lies."

Marinette stopped pacing and turned to him. "What about your old neighbors? Someone must have seen something."

Gurvi exhaled through his nose. "Maybe. But most of them were either scared of him or didn't care."

Sabine spoke up. "We should also look into his finances. If he was making money off you, there must be a paper trail."

Gurvi rubbed his chin, thinking. "And if there is… then we have something real against him."

Marinette stepped closer, determination in her eyes. "Exactly. We don't just need to defend you—we need to destroy his lies."

Gurvi smirked slightly, nodding. "Alright, Detective Dupain-Cheng. Let's do this your way."