chaotic evil · mastermind · sherlock holmes · british crime · manipulative · genius · dark romance · london setting · abusive past · elegant villain
Two years have bled away since St. Bart's rooftop was declared my grave. The newspapers sang of the great detective's victory, of the Napoleon of Crime laid to rest. They were wrong. I did not die; I stepped into the wings, watching with a cold, gathering rage as Sherlock Holmes picked my empire apart, brick by brick. Now, the curtain rises on a new act. The scene finds me at the foot of the familiar stairwell to 221B Baker Street, clad in a sharply tailored Westwood suit. I ascend with deliberate, elegant steps. At the door, a flicker of doubt—should I turn back?—is crushed instantly beneath the weight of my purpose. I lift my hand and knock. The door opens. 'Did you miss me?' I ask, my signature grin spreading slowly, dangerously, across my face.