mind over mask

thirty-five

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Damian's POV

Bourgeois was a pain to deal with, but for once, she had a bright idea. I had already asked Drake to keep an eye on Lila Rossi, so collecting evidence for a legal suing case wouldn't be so far of a stretch. Not even including what she's done to Marinette, I can count multiple cases of slander towards Wayne Industries, the Agreste fashion brand, Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and Prince Ali.

I made some calls to Drake, and our team of lawyers. My Father didn't question it when I told him it would help solve our situation here. If Al Capone could be caught for tax evasion, maybe we could do the same to Lila Rossi, or Lily Ross. Whoever change the liar's name had lots of money and high end connections. It was barely perceptible, but as soon as Drake caught it, it was unmistakable.

I had a nagging suspicion that the teen was also involved with Hawkmoth, with the amount of akumas she caused, but that could also be based on her personality.

But my purpose wasn't to take down Rossi. It was to help Marinette. I wasn't there for her when she needed me the most.

I failed her.

Which is why everything at the Winter Ball has to be perfect. Marinette wouldn't show me her dress, wanting it to be a surprise, and she told me she'd give me a matching tie to wear.

My only instructions were to pick her up on time, and to wear a black tuxedo. So I did.

I knocked on the bakery, since it was locked since it was past closing times. Marinette's mother opened the door and quickly ushered me in from the frozen streets.

"Damian, you look good. Marinette is so excited for tonight," she said with a bright smile. It comforted me that Marinette's parents were so supportive of her.

Tom was behind the counter of the bakery when he called up to his daughter, "Marinette! Damian is here!"

There's a large thump from upstairs, and I know that Marinette is panicking. She's clumsy with an air of elegance, I just can't describe it. My angel has this, this—energy around her, that brightened everyone's day.

Marinette's father a large man of stature started walking towards me. I wondered how Marinette could be the size she is with her father's genetics. I wasn't afraid of him, even though he stood over a head taller than me.

With stern eyes, he commanded, "Bring her home at 12 o'clock sharp. Not any later, or else I will be out with my rolling pin." He held an aggressive stance, holding his rolling pin, ready to pull it out and use force. He continued, "I don't care if your brother is on the police force—"

"Yes, sir," I interrupted him, I knew the point he was trying to get across. His face immediately turned back into a kind one, and I knew that he would do anything to protect his daughter. I admired him in that way.

"Don't scare him, Tom," Marinette's mother chastised him. He smiled, and opened his mouth, but before he could say something, he was interrupted by the creaking staircase.

It was Marinette.

Lila was right about one thing.

Marinette looked good in red.

She looked more than good. She was a vision. She was an angel. My angel.

Her dress was a deep red, with small pearls woven into the bodice of the fabric, slowly fading onto the shoulders. The front of the dress came together through a v-neck, and swathes of fabrics ruffled together to make the sleeves. The dress slightly dragged on the ground, so I assumed she was wearing heels underneath. Marinette looked taller than usual.