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Nino heard rather than saw Adrien Agreste arrive at the gala. He was taking a break to graze at the refreshment table when the whispers started up behind him.
“…heard he used Daddy’s money to buy that car.”
“I heard he crashed the last one.”
“Five hundred bucks says I can get him to leave with me.”
“I’ll take that bet. When’s he ever dated a blonde?”
“Who said anything about dating?”
“I hear he has a champagne fountain in his bedroom.”
“Oh yeah? I hear he tried to appoint his cat to Gabriel’s board of executives last year.”
Nino popped one of the crudités into his mouth and turned to look at the entrance. Adrien Agreste, pretty, vapid rich boy extraordinaire, was the embodiment of everything Nino despised, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious to see what the man looked like up close.
He wasn’t disappointed. Clad in a flashy, green-and-gold suit, Adrien made quite an entrance. First he stopped to laugh and flirt with a huddle of reporters. Then he turned his attention to a group of pretty, nearly-identical women who were probably fellow models. At last he approached Kagami Tsurugi, the hostess. Nino rolled his eyes when Adrien bent to kiss her hand.
Everyone else at this party was a wealthy, soulless nightmare, but Kagami was Nino’s best friend. They’d been friends from her first day in public school, when Chloé Bourgeois had tried to frame her for putting gum on Marinette’s seat. The frame-up job backfired spectacularly when Kagami noticed Chloé laughing at her and punched her in the face. Nino had decided to take her under his wing after that. It hadn’t taken long for him to discover what an amazing person Kagami was behind all her walls.
Marinette, who was never far from Kagami these days, stepped up to greet Adrien. He made a comment Nino couldn’t hear, and Nino was surprised to see Marinette’s real laugh. But then Marinette worked for the clothing company Adrien had inherited, didn’t she? You kind of had to laugh at your boss’s jokes.
He asked Marinette about it when she approached his DJ booth with a song request half an hour later.
“He can actually be funny, away from the cameras,” Marinette said. She paused, nibbling her lower lip. “I think he’s lonely.” This came with a pointed look. Lately, Marinette and Rose had launched a campaign to get Nino to agree to be set up on a blind date.
“I’m not lonely,” said Nino, smoothly transitioning between music tracks.
Marinette sipped her wine. “Right. You’re not lonely. Just like I didn’t have a huge, embarrassing crush on Kagami all the way through collège.” She shook her head. “Here’s the thing, Nino. If it wasn’t for you, Kagami and I would never have stopped dancing around each other. I just want you to be as happy as we are.”
“I am,” Nino said firmly.
For the thousandth time, he wished he could tell Marinette that he was dating Chat Noir. He knew she’d be thrilled for him.
There was just one problem. Everyone in Paris knew that Chat Noir was dating Carapace.
“Okay,” said Marinette, swaying to the music. “Just… just think about it, okay? The guy Rose and I have in mind would be perfect for you.”
“I’m sure he would be,” said Nino, waving her off.
Two hours later, Nino took a bathroom break. He was washing his hands when he heard the unimaginable: someone in one of the stalls behind him had taken a phone call.
“Hello? Nathalie, hey! Would you believe that this is not a great time for me to talk? …He does? Well, I don’t know anything about that. Tell him I don’t know. Please? You and I both know that we just need a little more time to figure out where he keeps that damn brooch. No, I’m not drunk. You’d know if I was drunk, Nathalie, because if I started drinking, I wouldn’t stop. Hanging up now! Bye-bye!”
The man in the stall groaned. There was a dull thud like someone banging his head against the stall door. Then, before Nino had time to sneak out of the bathroom as quietly as possible, the stall door unlatched and Adrien Agreste stepped out. He froze at the sight of Nino.
“Hey there, cutie,” he said, flashing Nino a smile and a wink. “I’ll give you five thousand euro to forget whatever you think you just heard, okay?”
Nino didn’t like to think of himself as a greedy person, but he wasn’t as loaded as most of his friends. He knew a good bargain when he heard one. “Deal.”
Adrien pulled a rhinestone-studded checkbook out of an inner pocket of his jacket. “What’s your name?”
“Nino,” said Nino. “Nino Lahiffe. That’s L-A-H-I-F-F-E.”
Adrien grinned at him. “You’re certainly helpful, Nino Lahiffe. There’s your check. Buy yourself something fun, all right?”
“Sure thing,” said Nino, who had already mentally allocated this sudden windfall to rent and groceries.
“Great.” Adrien patted Nino’s cheek with a limp, surprisingly sweaty hand. “See you later, cutie.”
Nino made his way back to his DJ booth, holding the check in both hands. It didn’t feel real. He felt as if he were floating above the dance floor.
As he dove back into the flow of the music, he watched Adrien work the party, charming a group of politicians here and a trio of big-name fashion designers there. Each individual interaction might seem aimless and vapid, but the longer Nino watched Adrien, the more he was certain that there was a method to the madness. This was a man who knew exactly what he was doing—and didn’t want anyone else to notice just how clever he was. Nino wasn’t sure what to make of it, but one thing was clear. He needed to talk to Adrien again.
He seized his chance at the end of the night, when he caught Adrien trying to sneak out the service exit while Nino carried a box of equipment to his car. Adrien was swaying in a way Nino would have bought as drunkenness if he had seen the man take even one sip of alcohol all night.
“Sorry,” Adrien slurred. “Got lost.”
Nino thought quickly: what rooms were near this exit? Then he had his answer. “You were searching Kagami’s mother’s quarters. Why?”
“Got lost,” Adrien repeated muzzily. “On the way to the bathroom.”
“Nice try.” Nino took hold of Adrien’s shoulder, steering him to his car. “If you’re really that drunk, you shouldn’t drive home. Let me do the honors.”
Adrien grimaced at the sight of Nino’s admittedly battered minivan. “‘S not my style.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” said Nino, hustling Adrien into the passenger’s seat. “Where to?”
Adrien was still playing up his fake drunkenness. His eyelids fluttered. “Your bed, if I’m lucky.” He cracked a wobbly smile.
“Why were you searching my best friend’s house?” Nino demanded.
“Good question,” Adrien mumbled. “Didn’t find what I needed, anyway.”
This was practically an admission of wrongdoing. Nino pressed on. “What do you need? And fasten your seatbelt.”
Adrien did as he was told. He looked Nino up and down with bright, intelligent eyes. “You said it was Nino, right? Nino Lahiffe?”
“Good memory for a drunk guy.” Nino stared him down, waiting.
Adrien sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, man.”
“Try me.”
Adrien pursed his lips. “Fine, but remember that silence I bought. My father’s secretly evil, and his assistant’s the only one who believes me. We’re trying to prove it, but he doesn’t just leave evidence lying around. Madame Tsurugi has extensive business dealings with him, so—”
Nino rubbed his temples, wishing he was drunk. “—so you thought maybe she’d have something on hand that could prove some kind of… conspiracy?”
Adrien sighed, slumping his shoulders. “I guess. We’re getting desperate. For one thing, it takes more work than you’d think to keep my father convinced that I’m not a threat.”
“That’s why the vapid act,” said Nino, feeling enlightened. “But if you’re lying to everyone you know, it must be—”
“It’s that bad,” said Adrien. “Promise you.”
The look on Adrien’s face made argument impossible. Gabriel Agreste was evil. Huh.
“Fuck,” said Nino at last. He hesitated. “Do you want to come back to my place? Uh. I have a boyfriend. But I can promise no cameras and a comfy couch.”
Adrien raised his eyebrows. “You actually believe me.”
Nino snorted. “Like it’s a stretch to buy that one of the richest men in France doesn’t have everyone’s best interests at heart? Please. If anything, it’s harder to believe you’re trying to take him down instead of waiting to inherit.”
“He hurts people,” said Adrien quietly. “I can’t let it continue.”
“Believe me, man. I get it.”
The drive to Nino’s apartment was nearly silent. Now that they were away from the cameras, Adrien began to let his exhaustion show. Something about him reminded Nino of the way Chat Noir sometimes behaved on late-night patrols when they walked the city together, Paris’s sword and shield.
Adrien didn’t comment on the stained carpet in the stairwell leading up to Nino’s third-floor apartment. When Nino showed him to the couch, he collapsed onto it gratefully.
“Why are you doing this?” Adrien asked. “I mean, you all but caught me digging through your friend’s mom’s business papers.”
Nino shrugged. “For one thing, I wouldn’t lose sleep if she did get in trouble for being involved in whatever shitty thing your father’s into. She was kind of a terrible mother. And, well, you could probably afford to buy this building outright. I’m not really worried about you robbing me while I sleep.”
Adrien studied Nino as if he were a wild animal with utterly incomprehensible thought processes. “Thanks.”
Nino wasn’t sure what to say, so he just nodded. “I’ll get you some blankets and something to sleep in.”
Adrien was gone when Nino woke up the next morning. The blankets and borrowed pajama bottoms were folded neatly, because nothing about this ultra-fake rich boy made sense. Stranger still, he’d left the window open. Adrien had left his phone number, written on a cocktail napkin, on top of the folded pajamas.
Nino laughed to himself. He was already trying to decide how much of this story he could tell Chat Noir on their next date night without giving away his identity.
Still later, when Nino left his apartment to run errands, he was baffled to notice that the front door was still locked from the inside.