A Study In Scarlet Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Novels & Stories

Horatio pulled the thick covers up to his sister's chin, then placed a kiss on her cheek. "Sleep well," he whispered. ''I need to talk to you about something April told me,'' Scarlet told Horatio. The two headed to Horatio's room. Once there, Scarlet sat cross-legged on his bed. "I picked up a scent while we were in Nikki's room. It was fading but still there," Horatio said. Scarlet looked at him. She hardly heard a word he said. Her mind was elsewhere. ''Oh, who did it belong to?'' "It was Tiffany's," Horatio said.

Alfred asked hastily. The Scarlet Thief's information was publicized a long time ago, so Alfred recognized the corpse almost right away. However, modern technology was far too advanced and the Scarlet Thief was too skilled in hiding, so he needed a DNA test to ensure that they killed the Scarlet Thief instead of someone else. "Yes! Mister Glasbey, here are the results. According to the test, the body's fingerprint and physical characteristics match the Scarlet Thief's profile. I can say for sure that this body belongs to the Scarlet Thief," Captain Scots said as he handed the report to Alfred.

"They've spent years hiding in the shadows." Lucas frowned. "And now?" Damon's expression became grim. "Now they're gathering." A knot formed inside Scarlett's chest. She didn't like where this was going. Not at all. Damon reached into his coat. Several wolves immediately tensed. Slowly, he removed a folded piece of parchment. Old. Weathered. Marked with unfamiliar symbols. He handed it to Scarlett. The moment she touched it, a pulse of energy traveled through her fingers. Her breath caught.

I followed at a leisurely pace, my tailored suit completely out of place in the dirt of her childhood street. Inside the small apartment, Arthur Vale was sitting on the couch. He looked up when we entered, and his face went pale the moment he saw me. Recognition. Fear. He tried to hide it, but I saw it clearly. I smiled pleasantly, playing the perfect gentleman. “Mr. Vale,” I said smoothly, extending my hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Lucien Romano.” Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes darting frantically between his daughter and me. “Scarlet. Who is this?”

“The man you’re chasing … is gone. Has been for some time. I told you to come alone so I could save you the agony of searching.” “You lied.” “Of course I did,” he said, baring his teeth. “It was the only way to get you to come.” “Why?” “I needed you to come alone so I can kill you. You’re too dangerous to leave alive.” *** Scarlet moved fast. Every mile north felt like cutting through a dead god's grave. She reached the edge of the vale. Her palms shivered as she pressed them into the earth. “Show me.” The ground pulsed. A vision bloomed-Ophelia in the ruins, Lucien circling her like a vulture.

Scarlet assured, and she went back to the dressing mirror to prim up her hair. “What about Sally? Have you easily forgotten what that monster did to you?” Dolly worried as she sat up on the bed. “No. I will never forget that.” Scarlet shook her head and then she added, “Don't worry, I will know what to do when I come across her.” After seven minutes, Scarler was prepared and she checked out herself in the dressing mirror. The white gown hugged her curvy body, and her styled black silk hair was tied in a neat ponytail.

“Come in.” The door creaked open, and Scarlet stepped inside, her usual confident demeanor in place. She glanced around, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the lingering trace of amusement on Dylan’s face. “What’s so funny?” she asked, closing the door behind her. “Nothing that concerns you,” he replied smoothly, his tone cold as always. “What do you want?” Scarlet stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor. “We have a problem.” Dylan arched a brow, leaning forward slightly. “Define ‘problem.’”

But opposites attract, so despite her stupidity, I am deeply attracted to her. Scarlet is not an idiot. She just doesn’t have an interest in studying, but in this world, being intelligent does not equate to being street-smart. Intelligence Quotient and Emotional Intelligence are two different measures. The fact she ran into poor company while attempting to discover the reason behind the death of her friend did not mean she was stupid. She just didn’t realise the true face behind the mask, trusting others too easily. Even after becoming a pawn and a tool for men to relieve their desires, she still continued to allow others in her life, even if it was just for a night.

Scarlett. I bet he has a hundred concubines chasing after him ,each more beautiful than the last. And there I was … sitting in despair, not knowing what I'll be of . This was not the first time, nor will it be the last I'll see panties in his suitcase. Each time my eyes beheld them, it feels as though my heart will crumble into pieces. I'd always feel this cold thing run through my spine. Who was that? I jolted out of my thoughts when I heard the doorbell ring.

The sound cracked like lightning, silencing the room. Her voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “I said I didn’t cheat. I don’t need your filthy shortcuts. If I wanted an advantage, I’d have used my claws, not a fucking cheat sheet.” The professor hesitated. His eyes drifted again to the booklet...immaculate, fast, brilliant. Too brilliant. His suspicion battled with logic. Finally, he spoke. “…Scarlet,” he said quietly, “your speed and accuracy are… concerning.” Scarlet’s jaw locked. “Because I studied?”