Moriarty's POV
While Grace was dangling there, I thought about her. I felt this…this connection. Like love.
Which made me want to kill her more. I pushed her as hard as I could, because I'm Moriarty. The King of Death. I don't fall in love. I torture and kill; I don't fall in love.
But when I pushed her, and she started to slide down, I grabbed her arm. It was the quickest, but one of the biggest, decisions of my life. I couldn't let her die. And I never have ever saved even just one of my victims.
"I've only fallen in love once before. The woman loved me, too. And we had fun. Moriarty doesn't have fun. But we had fun, we went to murder mystery movies, we went to dark restaurants, we took walks on dark nights…we had fun.
"But we were sleeping one night. That terrible night. We were having quite a bit of fun," I said laughing, "and we didn't lock the door. So she got taken in the middle of the night. And got pushed off the roof, 400 feet onto the ground." I frowned after I told Grace, and almost cried.
"Why are you telling me this?" Grace said. I pulled her all the way in.
"Because I have other plans for you."