"In the days of the desperate, desperation will rise."

— Forbidden Fruits

CHAPTER FIVE

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When Marinette came to, her head was pounding immensely.

Several low murmurs consumed all that she could hear. She squinted, but her vision was blurry, obstructing her from clearly surveying her surroundings. The inaudible voices around her were considerably low as if they wanted to prevent from waking her, or perhaps they didn't want her to hear what they were saying. She came to that latter conclusion when she realized her wrists and ankles had been bound to a wooden chair with rope, and her mouth gagged with cloth.

At first, she weakly tried to struggle. Her efforts did little to set her free. When she tried to yell, her voice was muffled by agonized groans. As her vision became more focused, she realized she was inside Deadwood's only inn—a three-story building that once provided rest for travelers on the edge of town when Deadwood was once a popular town. Now though, hardly anyone ever stopped for rest in a town they considered to be a ghost town. The inn had been abandoned years ago on the outskirts of town due to the lack of business.

The second thing she noticed was green, and not just any green. When she looked straight ahead, the eyes that bore into her briefly frightened ones were emerald green, so green that she almost mistook them for jewels. She had never seen a pair of eyes so intense before.

For a moment, Marinette thought that she ought to be afraid of the stranger's eyes, but something about those irises comforted her more than they scared her.

For what felt like ages, she and the stranger merely stared into one another's eyes, briefly captivated by what they saw. But then, the moment was quickly shattered when someone cleared their throat. It was then that the stranger instantly pulled away, and she was able to finally blink.

Only then did her eyes widen when she realized just whose eyes she had been staring into.

Chat noir stood before her in all his glory. His eyes, if they had a bounty alone, would probably be worth a fortune. His head, however, was worth much more—so much more that she knew her father would give anything to see this man in chains... or his head on a spike. For as long as she could remember, she had always wondered what his eyes looked like. Not only that but his face. Without a bandana covering his nose and mouth, all she was left with was a black mask that protected his eyes, and a ringo hat which made him all the more mysterious.

But her eyes found themselves focused on his rosy lips, lips that quirked into an all-knowing smirk when he realized she was staring. That smirk sent an unpleasant chill down her spine. The man who stood before her was ruthless. At least, that was all she had ever been told. His reputation was never a bluff to the people of their small town, or to anyone who was unfortunate enough to live in their endless country.

What she didn't understand was why she was here.

Elias had warned her of this possibility. He had warned her that Chat Noir might show an interest in her, and she hadn't believed him, believing him to be absurd for thinking such a silly thought. Yet, here she was, literally at the bandit's mercy, wondering what his intentions with her were. All she did know for certain was that Elias had been right. She should've taken his cautiousness more seriously, and she should've allowed Jasper to walk her home.

For now, there was nothing left she could do except stare up at him. Even though he had been the one to pull away, Chat Noir was still watching her closely. The moonlight from the full moon illuminated the inn suite, allowing her to get a somewhat better look at his features.

He was dressed in black slacks, a black coat adorning his shoulders that was so long it was inches from reaching his ankles. His blonde hair peeked out from underneath his black cowboy hat like sunshine, and his eyes shone even brighter than that as if they were capable of glowing in the dark.

But he said nothing. He didn't even blink. Instead, he stared at her as if he was risking missing something if he looked away.

And they weren't alone. All around the room, about a dozen men occupied the space, some standing while others chose to sit on the bed or in wooden chairs. Most of the men had rifles leaning against their legs, while others had pistols fastened at their waists.

Now that she was awake, everyone had fallen eerily silent. No one dared to speak a word. It was so quiet, she could faintly hear crickets from outside.

Chat Noir finally moved again, but when he did his movements were gentle and smooth, almost as if he didn't want to risk frightening her. He slowly reached up to remove the cloth that had been stuffed into her mouth. As soon as it was gone, she gasped and licked her dried lips, meeting his eyes once more with parted lips.

His eyes no longer offered her any sense of comfort, but she was surprised to find that they did hold a sense of genuineness. He looked genuinely concerned for her well-being despite their current predicament... but she didn't trust him.

Chat Noir was a thief, and as a thief, he had to be able to fool people.

"What is your name?" He asked her, his voice void of any emotion, though his emerald eyes did shine in curiosity. She wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of his simple question. There was no way he didn't know who she was.

"I should be the one asking the questions, considering you kidnapped me!" Marinette shrieked, once again trying to desperately break free from her bonds. No one in the room seemed to flinch at the rise in her voice, nor did Chat Noir's expression falter.

Instead, his annoying smirk from earlier resurfaced, as if he found the whole ordeal funny, and then he chuckled, "Darlin' please, there ain't no need to shout. Have you forgotten how to use your inside voice?"

She gritted her teeth. "Do not call me darling."

"Very well," his grin somehow stretched further from ear to ear, indicating that he found teasing her to be rather amusing. "Do you prefer 'milady' instead?"

She yanked on her bonds rather suddenly, but she didn't lurch far. She knew deep down that it was useless to struggle. She wasn't about to answer his ridiculous question, though. "What do you want with me?" She asked as a rebuttal. "Why have you taken me?"

Chat Noir chuckled, the sound not dark, but not exactly friendly either. "Do you not know who I am?"

"Everyone knows what a sick bastard you are." Marinette grounded out. "You are Chat Noir. The most wanted criminal in all of Deadwood."

The man's grin widened. "Your insult game is astounding, well done." He was being sarcastic, she realized. How dare he.

"I could call you something much worse, you dickhea—"

Chat Noir suddenly clicked his tongue and chuckled, shaking his head, almost as if he were chastising a child for misbehaving. "Now, now, that's no way to speak to people. Let's keep that little mouth of yours clean, yeah? A woman of your... importance has to keep a good reputation, after all. We wouldn't want daddy to know 'bout his daughter's fowl mouth. Imagine what he would think... especially if he knew you even raised your middle finger at the mayor of Pikeingham's three ugly sons."

Her eyes widened fearfully at that. "H-How did you—?"

"I know everythin'." The series of eerie chuckles that followed sent more unpleasant shivers down her spine. He had been at the ceremony, not only present but watching her. She felt sick to her stomach. "Everythin' you have said, everythin' you have done, I know 'bout it all. I have eyes and ears everywhere."

Marinette scowled at him. She wanted nothing more than to ring his neck. Unfortunately, her hands were still bound by itchy rope. "What do you want with me?"

Chat Noir stepped forward, a mysterious gleam in his irises as he slowly began to undo the ropes that were fastened uncomfortably around her wrists. She could only stare at his gloved hands in surprise, unsure of what to make of his sudden decision.

"If you know who I am..." He said slowly, his eyes remaining downcast on the ropes as he untied them. "Then you must also know what I want, right?"

But his actions only seemed to bring controversy to the room. Before Marinette could formulate a response, a petite figure stepped forward, emerging from the darkest corner of the room. Their grey hood covered their eyes and cascaded a shadow over their face, hiding their features from anyone who might try and cast a look. She hadn't even noticed this person looming in the corner, but they surely stood out when they made their appearance known.

This person had the bravery to even shove Chat Noir to the side, angrily so.

"Why are you untying her?!"

Marinette's eyes widened the moment the voice echoed throughout the room. Now she understood why this person stood out so much amongst the men. It was a woman.

Chat Noir's gaze turned dark, but stern fit the description equally so. "A man with nowhere to run is a trapped man." He shot the unknown woman a smile that reeked unfriendliness. "Besides, if we caught the child once, we can catch her again."

"I am not a child." Marinette huffed out stubbornly.

To that, Chat Noir chuckled again. It was then that she realized that he had already been anticipating that retort from her. "Oh, I'm aware, but your father might still believe otherwise. A daughter is never not a little girl in her father's eyes." He then turned away from her to face the other men in the room (his audience) whom he continued to greatly entertain by saying: "Imagine how much he would pay to get his daughter back."

Men all around the room chuckled, their grins ever so sinister.

And that's when Marinette finally understood why she was here.

He wanted money, of course. She should've known. And what better way to receive such riches than through her father, one of the richest men alive in the country? However, a question still clouded her mind, one that she couldn't understand no matter how hard she tried.

Why now? If this was all about the money, why wait now to kidnap her?

"Manipulating my father for money?" Marinette raised a rather amused brow at that. "You are not the first to try and do something so foolish."

Chat Noir turned to look at her again, an amused smile pulling at his lips. "Why, of course. What better way than to steal from one of the richest men alive than to use his only daughter as bait?"

"You should just kill me instead!"

"Do not be so dramatic." Chat Noir groaned, throwing her a roll of his eyes. "What would I gain from your death? Besides, no one here is stupid enough to end your life. You are the daughter of the mayor of Deadwood, after all. You are very important."

"My title means nothing." Marinette glared at him with a look of death in her irises. If the infamous Chat Noir knew everything like he so claimed, then he should also know just how worthless her name was. "And even if it did hold some sort of great value like you believe it does, I am not my father's only offspring, nor will I ever inherit his wealth. If you were truly interested in riches, you would have kidnapped one of my brothers instead. They are all more valuable than I!"

For a moment, the room fell silent once more. She watched Chat Noir slowly move towards her once more, his steps quiet and precise. He slowly lowered himself, kneeling in front of her, where she still remained seated in a creaky, wooden splinter, and offered her a smile she had never seen him wear before. Unlike the other smiles, this one held no cockiness behind it. He smiled at her now as if he understood. As if he could relate to her.

"I have no interest in your brothers."

Her brows furrowed confusingly at that. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to understand his motives. Chat Noir stood again but remained standing in front of her. He had to look down in order to meet her eyes.

"Perhaps you will never inherit your father's riches..." He said matter-of-factly, and for a moment she thought he would rub it in. "But you did inherit his name, and whether you believe so or not, names are very powerful. So much so that a name alone could have a man fallin' on his knees before you."

Marinette swallowed, unsure of what point he was trying to make.

As if sensing her unease, Chat Noir leaned forward again, this time his gloved hands resting his weight on the armrests of the wooden chair she sat in. His face was now uncomfortably close, his nose inches away from touching hers.

"If I remember correctly, you are your father's only daughter, and I'm sure a man of his position would want you to be married off to a fine man, one that won't disgrace the family name. This is why he will go to the ends of the earth to find what he deems a suitable man for your hand... but that is all that will matter to him. The man's name, not his character." A sinister chuckle left his lips as he took a step back, allowing her to regain her personal space. "You might not be able to inherit any of your father's wealth, but whoever marries you... well... he will become one filthy rich man, ain't that right?"

Again, the men surrounding them chorused in devious chuckles. Her breath hitched in her throat. She wasn't kidnapped to be bribed by her father for an award...

She was kidnapped so that he could marry her and gain eternal wealth.

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Marinette spent the night in the abandoned inn suite with a dozen men. Thankfully, she realized Chat Noir wasn't entirely as cruel as she originally made him out to be considering she wasn't forced to sleep strapped to a wooden chair and was allowed to lay her head on a pillow that night, but that didn't mean her feelings of hatred for the bandit had lessened any. She still hated him with a passion. In fact, if a twister ripped through the town and took him with it, Marinette would've counted that as a blessing.

Sadly though, no twister ever came. The other men had cleared the space for her, allowing her to have the bed all to herself, but that didn't make her feel any more comfortable. She remained upright on a propped pillow as she pulled the duvet up to her shoulders, watching anxiously while the night went on as different men took turns in keeping watch.

She even watched Chat Noir, who had pulled up a chair in front of the window. He sat there for hours, unmoving, simply staring out into the night. For a while, she wondered what he could be thinking about, even though she wanted to scold herself for even having such an interest. Why should she care what his thoughts were? Why should he even intrigue her? She didn't like him.

But no matter how hard she tried to allow sleep to overtake her senses, desperate for some sort of peace, she couldn't find it in herself to relax enough for sleep. Hours passed as she witnessed the men switch for their shifts. By now, a series of snores from the surrounding men echoed throughout the silence.

The silence was broken when the bandit shifted in his wooden chair, its legs creaking from his weight. "You should get some rest."

His voice was soft and surprisingly gentle. When he spoke, she hadn't expected it. She slowly lifted her bobbing head from where her chin had been digging into her chest, looking over at him, only to find his sights were still faced towards the window, which only made her wonder further how he'd known she was even awake if he hadn't spared her a glance.

Nonetheless, she found herself frowning at the back of his head. One minute he seemed concerned for her, and the next he was talking to her and treating her as if she didn't matter. She hated him.

"Give me one good reason why I should ever listen to anything you say."

The bitterness in her voice was obvious, but it didn't seem to phase him. Chat Noir didn't even move a muscle when he answered. "'Cause t'morrow we'll be travellin' 'cross the desert, and you're gonna need your strength."

Marinette scoffed at that. As if he truly cared about whether or not the desert became her deathbed. "Maybe I'll just let myself die out in the desert and make all of your efforts be for nothing."

She was a bit surprised when a chuckle escaped past his lips at that, his shoulders shaking with the motion. With uncertain eyes, she watched as Chat Noir slowly reached up to remove his hat from his head, revealing a head full of rich, shaggy, blonde locks. He ran one of his gloved hands through his hair as if he were looking to try and make himself more presentable.

"You and I both know you're bluffin'." He said as he rested his hat on his knee. "You value freedom too much to end your life."

As much as she wished she could deny it, Marinette knew he was right.

She hated that he knew her so well. The benefits of being unable to sleep allowed one to think, and that thought currently ran rampant through her mind. The fact that Chat Noir had admitted to watching her all this time sent a series of unpleasant shivers down her spine. He'd been keeping tabs on her, stalking her, watching what she did daily, learning what she liked and disliked, watching the friendships she made, watching her brothers...

Marinette's brows furrowed as these thoughts continued to spiral. He had no right. Absolutely no right. He'd invaded her privacy, and she despised him for that amongst many other things. "Don't act as if you know me."

An airy chuckle escaped past his lips. "I was under the impression that we knew each other, but it seems I might be wrong." The tone of his voice implied that he was still amused. "I do know everythin' 'bout you—do not be mistaken—but your hatred for me implies that you don't have that same understandin' of me, rather, you only know what you've been told. And your source..." he chuckled again, "I'm sure isn't biased at all."

He was sarcastically referring to her brothers, and that thought made her boil.

"Do not bring my brothers into this." Her fingers clenched into her palms, unintentionally fisting the satin bedsheets underneath her. She absolutely hated the way his words easily flowed off his tongue, like he had already rehearsed this conversation and was prepared for anything. He was so at ease when he spoke with her; so cocky, arrogant, amused, and even annoyingly sarcastic. He would always have the upper hand, she realized, and she hated that.

She hated him. She truly hated everything about him. He was just like her brothers had made him out to be.

A sadistic monster.

Chat Noir's shoulders shook, indicating his silent amusement. Her shoulders tensed and rose into the crook of her neck involuntarily when he actually turned around in his seat, finally facing her.

Marinette had never gotten a good look at Chat Noir's features before without a ringo hat or a bandana on—in fact, no one ever had considering no one had ever lived to depict the details of the infamous bandit's mysterious appearance. However, when their eyes met underneath the glowing light of a single lantern, Marinette found herself suddenly in awe at the sight of his face and embedded the memory into her mind.

Because she was probably the first to ever see such a sight without having to fear death.

With his ringo hat off and his bandana missing, it revealed a man not much different than any other. His blonde hair was a roguish mess, long, tangled, and in need of a good trimming. As he fully faced her, allowing her to see him, she suddenly realized just how exposed he was allowing himself to be in front of her. The only thing that kept him from completely exposing himself was the black, leather mask around his eyes.

It left her breathless. It left her speechless.

And perhaps that was the reaction he wanted.

A gleam sparkled within his eyes and a smile adorned his lips. It wasn't a smirk, but a smile some might even say was fond. He leaned back his in seat, relaxed and in control, and pulled out a cigar and a box of matches from his coat pocket. As he lit his cigar and stuck it in between his teeth, he playfully wiggled his brows at her, and then the cigar came between his two gloved fingers as he blew out a puff of smoke. He said nothing more; nothing else to taunt her further, and it left her even more confused.

For as long as she could remember, Marinette had always known Chat Noir to be many things: a thief, a murderer, and even an arrogant fool.

But this side of him... she couldn't say what this side of him was.

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Heyyyy I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter! Don't be a silent reader... share your thoughts with me :,) how are you liking the story so far? Any theories? Anything you hope might happen in future chapters?

I shall see you all again on March 18th!

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