[Shen Xia] Britannia Rose

"Mr. Sedrio, can you make sure that everything you say is true?"

"……yes, I'm sure……"

"Very well, then, please explain again, the incident in 1997..."

"...We were just ordered to arrange everything, but the specific division of labor is top secret, I only do what I should do!"

"It was you who confirmed Princess Diana's death, right?"

"Yes……"

"Very well, the last question, who ordered you?"

"..."

"Sam, increase the dose, it seems that our husband is still not telling the truth."

"Ah! I said, please! MI5! I was employed by MI5!"

"Zizz...Zizz"

This is the end of the recording, and there are only some meaningless electric hissing sounds left behind. Isabella listened to this less than 2-minute conversation over and over a dozen times. The guy from Del Rio should be locked in some kind of small interrogation room. The recorder is very old, a style from a few years ago, but some things can still be determined through the echo.

Although this recording is short, it contains a lot of information. In a sense, it actually confirms the guess that Isabella has been daring to think about in her heart, that is, Princess Diana's death was not an accident, but a deliberate murder.

There have been many unconfirmed rumors among the folks about this confusing royal secret many years ago. The paparazzi are always taking the trouble to dig out the "truth" about things involving the royal family, state secret agencies and mysterious forces in order to grab the front page of the news .

Isabella sat on the sofa frowning, the clock pointed to midnight, the house was still quiet, and the owner was still working hard for the complicated affairs of the British Empire.

The recording was paused. When Isabella returned to Pall Mall, she just stared at it for half an hour. During this half hour, she weighed it for a long time. The recording pen that Riati personally sent was like a Pandora's box, and she didn't know what kind of puzzle it would be when she opened it.

It is very dangerous, but exudes an irresistible temptation.

I really couldn't help opening it and listening to it all. Isabella was skeptical about the content of the recording. On the one hand, she felt that the timing of the recording was too coincidental. The death of Princess Anna appeared when there was a lot of discussion. On the other hand, I felt that the directionality of this recording pen was too obvious, so I directly pointed the finger at the British government. In such a long time, the person in power of MI5 at that time was probably already dead. The old Mr. Green!

Mr. Green's wife, Claire Green, has long been punished, and his only son, Hardy Green, also died of a drug overdose. As for his daughter, Suzanne Green, a "star" who has never set foot in politics, it is even more impossible. Know what's inside.

Therefore, Isabella couldn't ask the truth about what happened back then. She didn't even know if there was an agent named Cedrio in MI5 many years ago.

There is only one person who may have access to the truth of the matter - Mycroft Holmes.

Now, the Military Intelligence Service and even the entire British government are under the control of Mycroft, but will he tell himself the truth back then?

The lock on the door turned slightly, and Isabella put the recording pen into her bag vigilantly and hid it. She hadn't figured out how to talk to McCoff about it yet.

The man entered from downstairs, changed into slippers at the entrance, took off his suit jacket, and hung it in the closet. He looked up at Isabella who was sitting on the sofa, and his gray-blue eyes scanned the surroundings of the living room Turning around, as if the scene of the unhappy parting this morning was just a hallucination, he asked very calmly, "Why haven't you slept yet?"

"Uh, I'll go right away." Isabella jumped up from the sofa, and hurried to the bedroom, avoiding his probing eyes when passing by Mycroft.

No tweets, no electronic products around, cold TV means it has not been used, and the temperature around the sofa all silently told McCoff that Isabella sat alone on the sofa for a long time, and What is she doing without entertainment?

The man loosened Songhu's blue bow tie with dark flowers with one hand, and narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched her back.

Isabella simply took a hot shower and stuffed herself under the quilt. After McCoff took a shower, he reviewed several urgent documents. It was already 12:30. He naturally lifted the other side of the quilt and lowered the Increased the brightness of the bedside lamp.

Isabella, who was lying next to him, was straight like a dead fish. She hadn't fallen asleep, her brain was highly active, and the clues and traps were entangled one after another. She straightened out her logic bit by bit. For example, she just He wanted to understand why, at the moment when she was graduating from her undergraduate degree and was about to enroll in a master's degree, Mycroft ordered Anthea to take her things home from the school dormitory and leave the dormitory unused.Why did Professor McVitie, who taught mathematics, suddenly resign at the end of the school year without saying a word.

The reason was that he already knew Moriarty's true identity.

"Can't sleep?" The person next to him suddenly called out.

Isabella's great method of pretending to sleep still couldn't escape Mycroft's eyes. She turned over, faced him, and said in a muffled voice with her eyes closed: "How do you know, I have tried very hard to control my eyeballs. frequency."

"It's a pity that your breathing rate is still too fast." Mycroft smiled in a low voice.

"Probably due to insomnia..." Isabella opened her eyes, and could only vaguely see the outlines of the people around her in the dim light.

"I'm going to heat you a cup of milk? It helps you sleep." He was about to get up after speaking.

Isabella grabbed his wrist, shook her head, and suddenly remembered that he could not see him in the dark, so she quickly said, "No, I don't want to drink."

Mycroft held her hand against the trend. He knew that Isabella had something on her mind, but he didn't intend to ask it himself.

When the right time comes, she will take the initiative to bring it up.

"Myc," Isabella turned to look at him, remembering that he had solemnly told her not to have anything to do with the rose party, and then swallowed the words abruptly, and she casually said another irrelevant topic, " Sherlock and John get along well, you can probably rest assured."

"I hope so." Mycroft was noncommittal.

The two leaned together quietly in the dark, there was no busy business, no lengthy meetings, only the sound of each other's long and gentle breathing, and the bright moonlight outside the window.

For the first time, he felt that it was a good thing to let emotions regulate the brain that was too rational.

"We haven't talked like this for a long time, haven't we?" Isabella chuckled, "You are too busy, every morning when I wake up, I feel like there is an invisible person living in this house."

"I'm sorry," the man who had closed his eyes and meditated suddenly turned his head, looking at her deeply while hesitating to speak, "but I..."

"It's nothing but, I know what you're going to say," Isabella interrupted him, "I'm just expressing emotion and complaining a little... just treat me as a coquettish, you won't even miss this Allow?"

"Of course not, my dear," Mygoff smiled slightly. He stretched out his arms to embrace Isabella, and rested his chin on her forehead. "You will always have this privilege."

Isabella's heart was beating a little faster, she blinked and said, "Well...to be honest, tonight...it doesn't look like you."

"Sorry?" Mycroft raised his eyebrows, expressing his confusion.

"It doesn't match your usual cold look in Whitehall. I can't believe that if your subordinates or Sherlock heard what you just said, would their jaws drop? No, Sherlock won't, he will just turn over Roll your eyes and say in a sarcasm, oh Mycroft, did the sweets finally clog your brain or did the goldfish affection drive you out of your mind?"

Listening to Isabella's vivid sarcasm, Mycroft couldn't help laughing, and his hands gently brushed over the scattered hair on the back of Isabella's neck.

"Goldfish's emotion? No, I'm sure it's filling my vacant soul bit by bit. This is not a goldfish's emotion." Mycroft's voice was very soft, and if it wasn't for the silence around him, he could barely hear what he was saying .

His lips slid down his forehead, skipped over Isabella's brows and eyes like a dragonfly, and finally reached the pale pink soft lips. Isabella closed her eyes subconsciously.

At first, it was a gentle temptation, like a drizzle in June in London, moistening things silently, and then a strong wind suddenly picked up, and the hand that was arranging her hair was instantly firmly pressed against the back of her head, not allowing her to retreat .

The increasingly thinning oxygen made Isabella couldn't help biting him, then raised her head high and breathed violently.

With the faint and cold moonlight, Isabella's heart jumped, and she clearly saw a small cluster of flames in the man's eyes that could always see through everything.It is like a volcano that has been dormant for several years buried under the towering snow mountain, and now it is awakened.

"May I...?" The man's low voice was extremely dangerous, and his hand still rested on the back of Isabella's neck, caressing her skin intentionally or unintentionally, causing a tremor along her spine.

Isabella didn't dare to look him in the eyes, and there was only one thought in her mind at the moment: what Moriarty, the man in front of me is the number one dangerous person in Britain!

Although she had already imagined what might happen on the first day she moved to Pall Mall, she didn't think much about it, just let it be.

However, after waiting for half a year, she almost acquiesced that the other party's IQ is too high to lose some inherent human needs, so she tacitly refrained from actively touching on this issue and included it in the Mycroft's blind spot is like Sherlock never remembering the prime minister's name.

However, it seems that this is not the case... The other party may simply have too much self-control.

Isabella frantically staged a small theater in her head, while Mycroft waited quietly for her answer.

Until, she smiled without warning, like a white epiphyllum blooming in the dark, Isabella firmly kissed his lips again.

The author has something to say:

这次真的安全驾驶了！ps：隔壁开了新文，是综英美的教授文（斯内普），如果有喜欢教授的友友欢迎康康。卑微作者求预收。感谢在2021-06-0915:49:54~2021-06-1119:50:41期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angels of irrigation nutrient solution: 51 bottles of Yaoguang η; 10 bottles of Huaqiliuxiang; A Dao is a good baby, 2 bottles of Jin;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!