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Dangerous Games	By : Cat_Eyes Category: +M through R > Miraculous LadyBug Views: 11603 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug. Miraculous Ladybug is the intellectual property of Thomas Astruc and released by Zag studios. No profit was made writing this story.

Chapter List
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It wasn't until Saturday when Adrien finally had time to go shopping. The next Gabriel fashion show loomed ever nearer, and made unreasonable demands on everyone's time.
So, that morning, Adrien made it his mission to get started on his fact finding journey. He purchased a top of the line camera he could set up himself, that connected wirelessly to his computer and phone for twenty-four hour monitoring. Then he bought the tools necessary to fix it into his door.
First, he had to carefully remove the peep hole. The camera was too large to prop up above his door, so he settled for one he could fix into the panelling. The lens was a fraction too wide, forcing Adrien to spend another hour widening the gap left by the peep hole. After that, he settled the camera lens into the hole, and fastened the rest of the piece in place with a few screws.
Adrien swung the door back and forth, inspecting his handiwork. The camera remained in place, and was unnoticeable from the outside. He grinned triumphantly at his own cleverness.
He then cast a worried look at Marinette's door. She had taken the rest of the week off work, and had not been seen since Thursday. He had given her the space she desired, but he fought the urge to check on her constantly.
Now that he had finished his first project, Adrien wondered what else he could do to gather information on Luka. The next logical step was a Google search, so Adrien fired up his laptop and opened the browser.
He didn't have to dig far to find Luka's online presence. He had several social media accounts, a website for his band, and his name featured in aged advertisements for live band nights in bars. However, the most recent ad had been from six months ago, and his social media accounts had been idle for almost a year.
Adrien furrowed his brow. 'Weird.'
He went back to the website for the band. The most recent update had been five months ago, and had very little information on prospective gigs. But it did have the address of the studio they rehearsed at.
'Ah-ha,' he cheered, quietly.

Adrien consulted the slip of paper in his hand, checking the address against the one he had written down. Before him sat a derelict building, a closed sign nailed to the boards fixed over the old windows, but it was definitely the same address.
He scowled as his hackles rose. He took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. The sign on the windows had the number of the real estate agency overseeing this lot, so it was not too big a stretch to think they may know of the former resident's current location.
The line rang for a long moment, before it was answered by a breathless and tired female voice.
'Good morning, Paris Property Group, this is Gisèle speaking. How may I help you today?'
'Good morning, Gisèle,' Adrien replied. 'My name is Bastien, and I'm currently looking at an address on your site. What can you tell me about it?'
He gave her the address and the details of the condition the building was currently in. Gisèle looked the information up on her database, the sound of her tapping keys resounding down the line.
'That particular property has been on the market for a few months now, but it's being recommended as a knock down - rebuild situation.'
'I see,' Adrien replied. 'Do you know what the last people who owned the property thought of the place? What they thought of the area in general?'
Gisèle hummed thoughtfully. 'I'm not too sure. I'm told that location is quiet, though. No trouble like gangs or drug users loitering around. It's quite safe.'
'You wouldn't happen to know the current contact details of the previous owners, would you? I'd like to investigate a little more thoroughly before I commit to anything.'
There was more tapping. 'Let's see. The former owners relocated to a different part of town, but kept their business name. They were Vulture Music, and are now situated in the northern part of the city.'
'Vulture Music, you say? Thanks, I think I can take it from here.'
'Happy to be of service,' Gisèle replied.
Adrien hung up with a victorious grin.
Plagg poked his head out of Adrien's pocket. 'So now we go find this new company?'
'You bet,' Adrien confirmed as he strode toward the nearest metro.
It took longer than he would have liked to get there, but once he arrived, he let out a deep sigh of relief. The company name was spelled out in large, neon lights above the door, and people bustled about inside. It was alive and lively, putting to rest Adrien's concern that this would be another vacant lot.
He pushed the door open and approached the front desk. A pretty, red haired girl looked up at him with a pleasant smile.
'Good afternoon, Sir. How can I be of assistance?'
'Excuse me, my name is Bastien, and I'm looking for a friend of mine. His name is Luka Couffaine. Would he be around, by any chance?'
The girl looked confused. 'I'm sorry Sir, but no one by that name works or records here. You must be mistaken.'
Adrien tilted his head with a furrowed brow. 'Are you sure?'
She nodded. 'Yes, I know everyone who comes in those doors.'
A young man entered from a door to the right of the reception desk. 'Bernadette, has the courier arrived with our order yet?'
She shook her head. 'I'm afraid not. But this gentleman here is looking for a Luka Couffaine. Do you know that name, by any chance?'
The man paused, his eyes widening. 'You're looking for Luka?'
Adrien perked up. 'Yes, do you know where I can find him?'
The man looked doubtful. 'I did know him, once. He was one of our artists before we relocated, but we haven't seen him in months.'
Adrien leaned back in surprise. 'Is it possible he moved to another studio?'
The man shook his head firmly. 'Luka had a very unique style; only a few studios would've taken him on, and we all keep pretty close tabs on each other. If he were with someone else, in this niche, or out of it, we would've heard about it. Nothing stays secret in this industry for long.'
Adrien tapped his chin as he thought. 'Do you know why he didn't come with you after the move?'
'The last time I spoke with him, he said something like needing time away from the drama to focus on a personal project. He wouldn't say anything else.'
'This is concerning,' Adrien drawled. 'I'll have to look into other avenues, I suppose. Well, thank you for your time. I appreciate your help.'
They waved sombre farewells, then Adrien left, deep in thought as he walked down the street.
'He hasn't been active in the musical scene, or online in months,' he muttered as he walked. 'This is only adding weight to my theory.'
'It's a coincidence,' Plagg argued. 'An unfortunate one, but a coincidence nonetheless.'
Adrien huffed in exasperation. 'What more proof do you need? He's been absent from a workplace he says he's been going to for months, the "project" that guy mentioned was probably his stalker habits, like spying and painting dolls. The pieces all fit.'
'You have nothing but circumstantial evidence, at best. What you need is direct evidence.'
'How am I supposed to get that?' demanded Adrien.
A woman and her adolescent daughter gave him odd looks as they walked toward him. Adrien blushed, and lowered his head with a rueful grin and a wave. The pair still gave him a wide berth.
'Maybe you could monitor his comings and goings in and out of the building,' Plagg suggested. 'That way, you can determine if he's around the next time the stalker tries something. If Luka's not home, or is confirmed to be in his apartment, you can rule him out as a suspect.'
'That sounds a little imprecise,' Adrien murmured.
'As long as you can confirm his location at any time the stalker leaves something for Marinette, you can cross him off the suspect list.'
Adrien still had doubts. Plagg's idea had too many holes for Luka to wriggle through. However, he could keep track of Luka's schedule. Information like that could come in handy.
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Dangerous Games