Disappointed people left, interested people gathered; the crowd before the Koenigsegg booth remained constant.
"Come on, let's go check out that side." Bella decided to go back and investigate first to see if this Koenigsegg was the same company from her memory before discussing investment.
They soon threw the Koenigsegg matter to the back of their minds. On the third day, the two went to the Louvre. They viewed the museum's three most famous treasures: the headless Winged Victory of Samothrace, the tight-lipped Mona Lisa, and the armless Venus de Milo.
This was a crucial setting for The Da Vinci Code. Bella looked at the Mona Lisa, then looked down at the pile of materials she had collected. Her eyes were blurring, yet she couldn't make a definitive judgment. She could only bluff her stepsister.
"Hey, don't be surprised, but I'm about to tell you the discovery of the century! A secret I found personally that no one else knows."
Natasha looked at her curiously. "You found it? You have that kind of skill?"
Bella pointed at the Mona Lisa, then at the portrait of Da Vinci in her book. "Look. If you flip the portrait sideways, then remove the long hair and the clothes, don't their facial structures look very similar?"
With a preconceived notion planted in her mind, Natasha looked up at the Mona Lisa, then down to compare it with Da Vinci's portrait. Hey, they really do look alike!
"You mean to say...? Mona Lisa is Da Vinci's self-portrait?!" The little sister was astonished.
Bella's vanity was greatly satisfied. She even felt a sliver of growth in her psychic power. It wasn't easy, but my stepsister finally started to admire me!
Whether Mona Lisa was actually Da Vinci's self-portrait wasn't important. As she always said: Da Vinci couldn't jump out to refute it. If it is, it is; if it isn't, it is! Bella was going to reveal the true face of this drag-queen genius in her book!
"Seems you really learned a lot at Stanford," Natasha admitted. After the admiration passed, her innate pride resurfaced.
Bella curled her lips. This stepsister still needs more training.
The Louvre had many rules, but photography was allowed, provided no flash was used.
Natasha loved taking photos. Wherever she went, she snapped a picture.
"Stand still, I'll take a picture of you!" She held a reasonably compact digital camera and prepared to shoot Bella.
Taking photos when traveling, taking photos when seeing beautiful scenery, even taking photos before eating to post on social media—this habit would continue for the next twenty years or even longer. Bella was no exception, so she posed.
She hurriedly struck a pose. Click, click, click.
Natasha loved photography and had a particular talent for it. When they saw a statue, they took two shots; when they saw an old chandelier, they took two shots.
Most of the time, Bella was the protagonist in the photos. It couldn't be helped; she was wearing designer clothes and looked beautiful. Designers didn't get paid for nothing; expensive clothes had their reasons. Wearing brand-name outfits combined with her confident face made her very photogenic—the effect was simply better than ordinary clothes.
Bella also took photos of the little beauty from time to time, but getting a photo of the two together was difficult.
There were no selfie sticks yet, and neither wanted to ask passersby for help.
They left the Louvre and hesitated at the entrance near the Glass Pyramid. Both felt it would be meaningful to have a photo together here, but would anyone around be willing to help?
"Let me help you?"
A young man, a little over 1.7 meters tall with curly hair and a short-sleeved T-shirt, walked up to them.
Bella glanced at him, her gaze carrying scrutiny. The man looked kind and harmless, so she nodded. "Okay."
The young man took the digital camera. Click, click, click. He took several photos of them.
"Are you here for tourism?" the young man asked in French.
Natasha lightly squeezed Bella's hand. After getting a response, a playful smile touched the corner of her mouth. The next moment, her expression looking at the young man was filled with confusion, as if asking: What are you saying?
Bella, who claimed to know several languages, wasn't as expressive, so she could only continue to play the role of a naive tourist.
The young man asked two more sentences. After confirming they didn't speak French, he smiled apologetically and switched to English.
"Sorry, sorry, you two are just too beautiful! I got a little nervous. Are you here to travel? My name is Peter!"
The young man's expression held both nervousness and excitement, just like an ordinary person overwhelmed by seeing two beautiful women.
Natasha, without blushing or her heart skipping a beat, gave a name: "I'm Maria Hill."
Bella looked at her with slight surprise. That name sounds familiar... isn't that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Deputy Director?
Looks like I have to give a fake name too! She couldn't expose her knowledge of S.H.I.E.L.D. Saying Nick Fury or Phil Coulson would definitely give it away, and those weren't women's names anyway.
She racked her brains and quickly thought of a name that definitely shouldn't appear in S.H.I.E.L.D. at this time: "I'm Daisy Johnson!"
Thus, the supposedly language-clueless "Daisy" and "Hill" walked with Peter. This young man was extremely enthusiastic. Not only did he follow them all the way, but he also tirelessly took photos for them, helped them hail taxis, and carried their bags while they shopped.
Bella spent generously. The hundred thousand dollars earned from Stark wasn't a huge fortune, but it wasn't a small amount either.
She bought two summer outfits and a bag for herself, and a pair of shoes and a watch for Natasha.
Peter kept a cheerful expression. Holding seven or eight shopping bags, he didn't complain a bit. He escorted the two back to their hotel before politely saying goodbye and leaving.
"Goodbye, Daisy. Goodbye, Hill."
"Hehe, bye, Peter."
The three waved goodbye happily.
As soon as Peter left the hotel, the gentleness on his face vanished instantly. He picked up his phone and spoke rapidly into the receiver in a language completely different from French. A look of disdain curled his lips as he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked down a side path.
Inside the hotel room, Natasha dropped the shopping bags, threw her jacket aside, and quickly put on a headset.
She had planted a bug on Peter, wanting to hear his conversation.
However, the current Natasha was far from reaching her future height. Due to lack of experience, there were always some unforeseen oversights.
Right now, there was an oversight. The bug was planted, and the opponent made the call as expected, but a problem arose: Natasha couldn't understand the conversation. It was a very strange language.
She looked at her stepsister. Unfortunately, Bella hadn't heard a similar language either.
"Must be some obscure dialect; never heard of it." Bella propped her feet up on the table, flipping through today's shopping results with disinterest.