[Comprehensive] She has an affair with the villain

Now that you're abigfish, there are more sharks in this pond.

Now that you're a big fish, there are more sharks waiting in the pond.

When Vespa finished processing the report of the Commonwealth Government Commercial Office, the long and magnificent Palace of Westminster beside the Thames was already shrouded in darkness. Although she was busy with work, she was in a good mood.

Because when she sent the document that was supposed to be submitted directly to the Chancellor of the Exchequer into the office of Mycroft Holmes in the afternoon, she could smell an almost negligible smell of tobacco, low-tar type.

And her Russian cigarette is obviously not, so did the people in power at River House throw the tobacco she donated into the trash can, or did they treasure it in a corner?

But she didn't have time to think about this interesting topic for a while, because the criminal Napoleon sent a text message to her BlackBerry-"sweety, I gave you your phone number and thought you would call me. "

Vespa raised his eyebrows. It seems that this dangerous crime boss is going to cause trouble again tonight, and she is the one who was picked, yes, it's her again.

Vespa tapped lightly on the wooden door that blocked the luxurious office, and with a low voice, she politely pushed the door open, leaned against the door frame, and shook the mobile phone in her hand at Mycroft Holmes , "I've got to be busy working as a double agent, Mr. Holmes."

The British Government, dressed in a gray check three-piece suit, raised his eyebrows, "You look a little too excited, Miss Linde."

Vespa shrugged. "It's an interesting challenge, isn't it?"

The most influential agent leader in Europe was about to say something. The toothache caused him to touch his left cheek, and then he was silent for a few seconds, "Usually when in danger, goldfish that are afraid of absconding can survive better, and they are too laissez-faire. Curiosity will only push you into dangerous situations."

Vespa crossed his arms and looked at the omnipotent Lord Holmes of the Commonwealth of Nations mockingly, "Are you worried that I will lose my life, or do you not like my contact with Moriarty—"

The corner of Mycroft's mouth slowly curled into an impeccable and perfect smile, "Miss Vesper Lind, your biggest flaw is that you like to dream about things."

Vespa was not in the least irritated, and before turning to leave the office, he said, "—a coward never wins."

As for Sherlock Holmes sitting behind the desk piled up with documents, what kind of emotions arose in his heart is temporarily out of Vespa's consideration.

Moriarty, the crime king of London's underground world, invited her to a secret shooting range, hoping that Moriarty didn't want to use her as a living target and smash her into a sieve with bullets.

The shooting range in the center of London was unexpectedly empty. Vespa suspected that it was Moriarty's criminal stronghold and was not open to the public.

The shooting range is well-equipped. Vespa obeyed Moriarty's instructions and entered the closed venue in the center. When she passed by other shooting locations, she clearly saw flying saucers, pit bulls and rifle shooting items, and even erected them in the green belt. 50m and 100m fixed targets.

She walked into the closed venue. In the dimly lit room, there were only a few overhead lights that were barely enough to illuminate, and the reflection on the dark gray cement wall seemed to be shining coldly.

Vespa felt that the criminal king should not be bored enough to shoot her for fun, so he walked forward with ease, without any worry or panic.

"I'm making trouble again, dear." A voice came from behind her.

Hearing the voice, Vespa turned around and saw Moriarty standing behind her, reflected in the dim and pale light, and his pale face was accentuated by his brown hair.

"Let's play a fun game," Moriarty approached her, showing a childish and nervous smile, "If you are a coin, let's look at the other side and release you An evil thought that cannot be shown when Holmes is on the side of justice."

Moriarty wrapped her arms around her waist, and the feeling was as cold and dangerous as some kind of cold-blooded animal. Vespa stared at him and smiled slowly, "Is it like you? Just like you and Holmes The opposite of Mr.'s position, another possibility of genius?"

Moriarty stared at her. "Which do you prefer, dear?"

"Is there a difference?" Vespa asked back with a smile, "You like to manipulate people's hearts and devise all kinds of evil games to play with human nature, while Mr. Holmes is keen to balance the entire Commonwealth of Nations and controls the British government in every possible way."

Moriarty didn't seem too bothered by the conclusion, "but he's on the side of justice, and it's boring."

Vespa raised his eyebrows and looked at him curiously, "Could it be that the villains do all kinds of evil these days because they are bored and have fun?"

After all, that was the case with her ex-boyfriend of Gotham's chief villain, and it looked the same with Europe's most powerful criminal lord.

Moriarty shrugged casually, and whispered close to her, "My mind is filled with so many thoughts that I have to sit on the bed every morning after getting up, burying my head in my hands, just to let my thoughts settle down."

He has a genius and a neurotic temperament, which complement each other and cannot be separated.

Vesper backed away a little, and his gaze met his eyes, "I heard that Sir Isaac Newton also had this problem."

This famous British science giant is an encyclopedic "all-rounder".

Moriarty frowned, "I don't like hanging around under the apple tree."

He pushed Vespa's body forward, and found that the waist of this girl from France was unbelievably soft. What did she want to do, to soften the man's bones?

Vespa looked at the target in front of him, while Moriarty was almost standing behind her and clinging to her, he stroked the brunette's wrist with his fingertips, "Sweety, you will fall in love with the pleasure of firing a gun and loading it of."

Vespa looked sideways at him, and Moriarty was gazing at her with some kind of excitement and pleasure in his eyes, or something.

"You're going to teach me how to shoot?" Vespa looked interested. "That's a cool thing, isn't it? But I hope you don't replace the target with a panting human being."

Moriarty frowned, with a very special childishness, "I originally arranged for you a few Algerian terrorists. You must know that it is quite difficult to get them to London alive. What a disappointment."

Vespa gave him a helpless look, "...this is really a romantic dating arrangement."

"Of course, baby, I really enjoy spending time with you." Moriarty took out his usual Italian Beretta 92F from the pocket of his trousers. Everything else is this gun, and its accuracy is very suitable for beginners to practice."

Vespa took his Beretta, gripped the black metal gun, and Moriarty chuckled under his breath, "You look even more charming, dear."

"Control your breathing," Moriarty instructed her, "breathing will make the gun vibrate, and the effect will spread."

Vesper obediently followed his instructions, and Moriarty found that although she looked like a lazy girl who didn't like sports, she had surprisingly good body coordination.

Vespa held the gun and pulled the trigger evenly with his fingers, while the crime lord behind her put his hands on her waist, Vespa complained to him, "I can't concentrate like this, Moriarty professor."

He answered unhurriedly, "You've got to learn to concentrate, honey, and—"

Moriarty adjusted her posture, "Suddenly I don't like you calling Professor Moriarty."

Vespa paused with his gun hand, "—James? Jim?"

Moriarty's eyes glued to her side face, "The latter."

His pale hand covered her fingers holding the gun, "Aim at the bull's-eye, the eyes see the most clearly in three to seven seconds, now—"

"Shoot." His voice was steady, breathing in Vespa's ears.

"Bang—" Vespa pulled the trigger at the perfect moment to shoot.

Right in the bull's eye.

Moriarty frowned at her, "Pretty, you really haven't learned how to shoot?"

"Maybe I have great talent," Vespa shrugged. "Maybe I was a goddess of war in Nordic mythology in my previous life."

She even defeated the leader of the dark elves.

Moriarty buried her neck and laughed, "If the Norse Gods of War are lazy girls like you, no wonder they will go to Ragnarok."

Vespa turned his head to look at him dissatisfied, "Although I am not good at melee combat, I may be proficient in illusion and even saved God's Domain."

After Vespa finished speaking, she began to regret it. She must look very chubby now, just like her chubby ex-boyfriend.

But Moriarty seemed to be in a good mood, his breath on her face, watching the strange color in her green eyes.

Vespa held his breath, feeling the air gradually become stagnant and tense.

She was about to say something, but her thoughts were interrupted by his kiss.

That kind of strength was not too strong, but it carried a kind of aggressiveness that was inevitable. Vespa was firmly held in his arms, and he felt his palm getting hotter and hotter.

When his lips finally parted, Moriarty whispered into Vesper's ear, "Honey, I didn't cut off the MI[-] surveillance feed today, which means—"

He said in a cheerful voice, "Holmes and his lackeys have watched the wonderful kiss just now."

Vespa: "..."