𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬| 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧!𝐂𝐡𝐥𝐨é 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐢𝐬

Chapter 12. Copycat(bug): Part 2.

Le Grand Paris hotel, Chloé's Room.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐯:

Chloé was sitting on the plush sofa in her hotel suite, the television's glow casting a soft light over her face. She took a bite of a gourmet cheeseburger, delivered moments ago by her butler, Armand. On the coffee table in front of her, Plagg sat on a clean napkin Chloe had placed for him, happily devouring his Camembert.

Just as Chloé was about to take another bite, a breaking news alert flashed across the screen. The program was replaced by a live news broadcast. Nadja Chamack appeared on the screen. “We interrupt this program with a special report. We received confirmed reports that a major incident has occurred at the Louvre. The hero, Monsieur Bouge, was seen stealing the Mona Lisa painting moments ago in broad daylight. The police are on the scene, but no arrests have been made. We'll bring you more information as it becomes available.”

Chloé froze, her cheeseburger halfway to her mouth. She stared at the screen in utter disbelief. That couldn't be right. It was impossible. Monsieur Bouge would never do that.

“I know my partner, and Monsieur Bouge is no thief,” Chloé said, as she dropped her half-eaten cheeseburger onto her plate and stood up from the sofa.

Plagg knew what was about to happen so he quickly ate one last piece of Camembert. “Let's get this over with,” he said, floating up beside Chloé.

Chloé held up her hand, the black ring now glowing on her finger. “Plagg, claws out!”

At the Dupain-Cheng household, Marinette's room:

Marinette was hunched over her desk, wearing Goggles and a pair of baking mittens, and operating Adrien's phone with a Q-tip. Her frustration was mounting with every failed attempt. The Q-tip slipped from her grasp. “Ugh, of course Adrien would own one of these super-expensive high-tech smartphones. I can't even figure out how to work this thing,” she groaned.

Just then, her phone rang; it was Alya. She fumbled to answer it, pulling off a mitten.

“Problem fixed?” Alya asked from the other side of the FaceTime phone call.

“Almost. I haven't erased the message yet, but I'm working on it as we speak,” Marinette said, her voice laced with stress.

“No way. You palmed his phone?” Alya said, a note of disbelief in her voice.

“Yes? No? Uhh... I mean, I was planning to give it back.” Marinette stammered. “Actually, where are you? I can use some help.”

“No can do. I'm waiting for additional deets at the Louvre on the Monsieur Bouge robbery,” Alya said.

“What? Somebody robbed Monsieur Bouge?” Marinette asked, confused.

“No, girl. Didn't you hear? Monsieur Bouge came in and stole the Mona Lisa! In broad daylight! Dame Noir's gonna turn up for sure, and I do not wanna miss this. Just chill and I'll be over later.” Alya said.

“'Kay.” Marinette ends the call.

At the Louvre:

Dame Noir arrives at the museum. She spotted her father and the police. She ran up to her father, her voice urgent. “Mr. Mayor, this is ridiculous. I'm sure there's a simple explanation.”

Officer Roger walked up to them. “Monsieur Bouge in the slammer, Dame Noir.”

Dame Noir bristled. “You can't keep him in there–” she said, storming up to him.

Roger held up his hand to stop her, a dismissive look on her face. “Now, now. Leave it to the experts, Dame Noir. We've got it under control.”

‘You don't have anything under control,’ Dame Noir thought.