𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 || 𝐁𝐁𝐂 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

38: Suspicious Minds

The weather turned warm as the clock struck one, the humidity offering no respite as I strode into the lobby, walking right past security and into James Moriarty's office.

James looked up in mild surprise as his office doors burst open.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," he greeted me, pushing away from his desk as he leaned back in his chair.

His whole attention focused on me.

I slammed the hairpin down in front of him, my end of the bargain now fulfilled.

"Here, a gift."

"It's not a gift if you want something in return" he teased, causing me to roll my eyes.

But I knew I had nothing to worry about. I knew James to be a man of his word.

"What are your plans now?" he asked casually, briefly glancing at the hairpin before dismissing it entirely.

His eyes lingered on my wrists; at the injuries sustained from ripping my hands free from the rope.

Directing me to the couch, James sat opposite me; passing me a glass of whiskey before pouring one for himself. I took a slow sip, thinking.

"The name Mycroft Holmes ring a bell?"

Moriarty frowned.

"The British Government personified." I nodded.

"He has been keeping me under surveillance. To move freely in the future, I need to nip this situation in the bud."

"And how do you plan on doing that exactly?" Moriarty toyed with the glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid.

"I'm going to blackmail him of course."

James smiled. It was one of those rare smiles which fully reached his eyes.

My eyes narrowed.

"Why? Are you doubting my abilities?"

"Never."

"Do you expect me to have just sat around with Big Brother watching me? I've managed to find something that would make even Mycroft Holmes squirm."

James leaned forward with interest, his elbows resting on his knees as his fingers laced together, his eyebrows raised.

"What about Sherlock Holmes?" I shrugged.

"What about him?"

"Keep your distance. I have plans for him." A wry smile lingered on my lips.

Well, that isn't surprising. You are his number one fan after all.

I drained my glass.

"Shan will contact you soon, so make sure to fulfil your end of the bargain." Moriarty inclined his head slightly.

"You still haven't given me an answer."

The shift in tone was evident. I feigned ignorance.

"To what question?"

Moriarty's hands stilled on his glass.

"Don't play games with me." His tone turned serious as he looked up at me, his black eyes boring into my own.

"I'll give you my answer soon. Be patient."

"I've been very patient. For two years in fact."

For that, I had no answer.

In a way, I couldn't ignore the guilt which had plagued me. He had come back for me at a time when I believed I was alone, a small ray of hope signalling that my existence meant something to someone other than myself.