Father Dear (Moriarty's daughter)

Chapter II: The grasp the symphony

"What's your drug of choice?" he asked. "Hope, It's the most addicting one of all." She answered.

Over the next few weeks, Violet found herself drawn deeper into Moriarty's world. He introduced her to influential figures in the music industry, helped her secure a recording contract, and arranged for her to perform at some of London's most prestigious venues. Her star was rising, and it was all thanks to him.

But with every success, there was a price. Moriarty's mentorship came with strings attached, subtle at first but increasingly demanding. He had a way of manipulating her, steering her choices with a charm that was impossible to resist. He became a constant presence in her life, his influence growing ever stronger. He even rented her an apartment, in central London, a penthouse suite that was so luxurious that she didn't even want to know how he payed for it. 

One evening, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, she found herself alone with Moriarty in his opulent office. He poured them both a glass of wine, his gaze lingering on her in a way that made her feel both flattered and uneasy.

"You've come so far in such a short time," he said, raising his glass in a toast. "I'm proud of you, Violet."

"Thank you," she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But sometimes I wonder... why are you helping me? What's in it for you?"

Moriarty chuckled softly, taking a sip of his wine. "You're a smart girl," he said. "I admire that. The truth is, I see potential in you—a potential that goes beyond music. You have a strength, a resilience that is rare. I want to help you harness that, to become something more."

"More?" She repeated, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"There are many layers to this world, darling," Moriarty said, his tone growing serious. "Music is just the beginning. You have the power to influence, to inspire, to command attention. With my guidance, you can achieve greatness—not just as a musician, but as a force to be reckoned with."

His words sent a shiver down her spine. There was a fervor in his eyes, a conviction that both thrilled and terrified her.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that," she admitted.

"You are," he insisted, his voice unwavering. "And I will be with you every step of the way."

In that moment, she felt a strange mixture of gratitude and dread. Moriarty had given her so much, opened doors she never dreamed possible. But the deeper she ventured into his world, the more she sensed a darkness lurking beneath the surface.

As she left his office that night, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was teetering on the edge of something profound and dangerous. The shadows were closing in, and she knew that her journey was only just beginning.

The weeks turned into months, and her career continued to soar. Moriarty's influence was undeniable, and his connections had catapulted her to heights she had never imagined. She was performing in front of larger and more prestigious audiences, her name gaining recognition in elite circles. Yet, with each step she took, she felt the invisible strings that Moriarty held over her tightening.

One evening, after a particularly successful concert at a renowned London venue, she found herself mingling with the crème de la crème of the music industry at an exclusive after-party. The atmosphere was heady with celebration, the air filled with the scent of expensive perfumes and the hum of animated conversations. Violet felt a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion as she navigated the room, accepting compliments and congratulations from every direction.

"Violet, darling, you were magnificent tonight," gushed a well-known producer, his voice dripping with admiration. "I haven't heard such a raw, emotive performance in years."