Daylight spread over the Moscow skyscrapers.
Inside the studio, camera flashes sparkled,
music played, and the crew was busy at work.
Standing in front of the cameras was
Jasmine Olga Rovona.
Today's shoot an advertisement for her own luxury car.
A white luxury sports car, gleaming body,
and Jasmine's poised, powerful posture
together forming a perfect scene.
She slowly opened the car door,
placed her hand gently on it, and stepped up.
Her gaze locked into the camera lens—
confidence in her eyes, a subtle smile on her lips.
The camera flashed repeatedly,
each shot telling a story
beauty on one side, strength on the other,
and in between, Jasmine's mysterious aura.
The crew whispered praises,
"Perfect pose, Olga!"
"Keep that gaze, Jasmine!"
Jasmine tilted her head slightly,
hiding a small glimmer of tears,
yet her face remained completely professional.
Her hand held the car handle,
her eyes radiated determination.
At this moment, she was more than a model
she embodied a mysterious, powerful character.
Once the shoot ended, Jasmine stepped out of the car,
breathing lightly, glancing at the crew.
Today's shoot wasn't just glamour
it was her identity, her strength,
and preparation for the shadow that always lurked behind her.
The studio activity increased.
Flashes, crew commands, music
all created a strange rhythm.
Jasmine moved into another pose.
In the center of the studio was a black leather chair
she sat perfectly in it.
Her white hair shimmered in the lights,
her piercing blue eyes locked onto the camera
a cold, deep, mysterious stare.
A crew member whispered,
"Look at those eyes… perfect!"
"Hold that pose, Jasmine!"
She extended one leg slightly forward,
both hands on the armrests
a pose exuding both strength and elegance.
The camera's flash reflected off her hair,
creating a silver glow.
Her blue-eyed gaze said,
"I am not just a model… I am a storm."
The music gradually rose,
and Jasmine slightly turned her head to the beat
another perfect shot.
Everyone in the studio froze.
They didn't get such a cover shot every day.
Just then, the studio lights grew brighter, more intense.
Jasmine sat in the chair, modeling
her white hair falling over her shoulders,
her gaze piercing the camera.
Click… Click… Click…
The camera flashed continuously
everything was perfect.
At that moment
the large glass studio door slowly opened.
The crew didn't notice,
but at the corner of Jasmine's eye, a shadow appeared.
A man.
Tall and imposing,
golden hair slightly tousled,
piercing blue eyes.
In his hand, a thick cigarette
smoke drifting slowly in the studio lights.
He stood silently, staring at Jasmine,
with an unspoken thought in his eyes
as if he had known her for years.
No one dared stop him.
No one had the courage to speak
his presence carried the cold strength of a mafia,
felt by all, yet spoken by none.
Jasmine maintained her pose,
but her heartbeat raced.
For a second
her blue eyes met his,
a direct, dangerous clash.
The studio's air seemed to freeze.
The mafia man slowly drew on his cigarette…
and Jasmine realized
he had returned.
And this time, ignoring him was not an option.
The mafia shadow stood in front of her.
His blue eyes searched hers,
but Jasmine
paid no attention.
She took a deep breath, adjusted her hair slightly, and—
Click! Click! Click!
Jasmine rose to the camera again.
Her face displayed that confident look,
as if nothing had happened,
as if no one had tried to disturb her.
The crew stared in awe
"Wow… she's so focused…"
"Perfect! Olga, that pose again!"
The mafia man slowly released the cigarette smoke,
but Jasmine never looked at him. Not once.
Her focus remained on her work
leaning into the chair, a new pose,
hands in her hair, a faint confident smile,
as the camera kept shooting.
The mafia man gave a slight, cold, dangerous smile.
He understood
this girl could not be broken easily.
And Jasmine had just shown him
she was fearless.
As the shoot ended,
Jasmine entered the changing area inside the studio.
Three girls attended her
one adjusting her hair,
one applying makeup,
another tying the dress ribbons.
The light scent of perfume,
lights reflecting off mirrors
a typical model room.
Jasmine ran her fingers through her white hair,
"Another shoot finished," she murmured.
Then
strong hands grabbed her from behind.
Jasmine froze.
Her eyes met the mirror
and she saw
the mafia man.
Golden hair, ice-blue eyes,
a smoky, dangerous smile on his lips.
He whispered in Russian
"Ты всё ещё красива, Красный Призрак…"
("You are still beautiful… Red Phantom…")
The three girls gasped, unable to speak.
The room seemed to turn icy.
Jasmine clenched her teeth
"Пусти меня…"
("Let me go…")
But the mafia man leaned closer,
his voice low and threatening
"Я же говорил…
ты моя."
("I told you… you are mine.")
Rage and fear collided in Jasmine's chest.
Her breathing was heavy, but her eyes remained steady.
Slowly, she lifted her hands
and began to push his strong arms away.
"Я сказала… отпусти!"
("I said… let go!")
The man gradually released his hold,
but his eyes remained dangerously calm
the calm before the storm.
Looking in the mirror, he said
"Ты можешь убежать от всех…
но не от меня."
("You may run from everyone…
but not from me.")
Jasmine bit her lip in anger,
while the three girls avoided eye contact.
The mafia man smiled slightly
"Твои секреты скоро откроются, малышка."
("Your secrets will be revealed soon, baby.")
At that moment—
the door slammed open.
Ji-Han Min rushed in,
shock, anger, and concern in his eyes.
"Jasmine! What happened?!"
He stood in front of her like a shield.
The mafia man eyed Ji-Han Min coldly,
then spoke slowly
"Так вот кто тебя защищает…"
("So this is who protects you…")
Ji-Han Min responded
"Stay away from her."
The mafia man said nothing,
only gave a strange smile,
then slowly walked out.
Silence filled the room.
Jasmine's hands trembled.
Ji-Han Min placed a hand on her shoulder
"Jasmine… are you okay?"
Jasmine spoke softly
"He knows me…
my past identity…"
Ji-Han Min's eyes widened
"Red Phantom…?"
Jasmine lowered her head
"Yes… he knows who I am."
With the mafia man gone,
a heavy, suffocating silence remained.
The mirror lights glowed,
but Jasmine's eyes
dark, trembling, on the verge of breaking.
Suddenly, she sat on the chair,
gripped her head with both hands,
fingers tangled in her hair, nails digging into her skin.
Her breaths were heavy…
her voice trembling…
Finally,
she broke down—
sobbing in uneven breaths.
"I… can't… anymore…"
Tears streamed down her face,
makeup smudged,
corners of her eyes reddened.
Ji-Han Min kneeled before her, shocked.
"Jasmine… hey… look at me… please…"
He gently removed her hands from her head,
holding her fingers lightly.
"You can cry…
but you're not alone.
I'm here."
Jasmine lifted her head
eyes burning with tears, lips trembling.
"You don't understand…"
her broken voice whispered,
"He knows my past… my true identity…
what I used to be… what I've hidden…"
Her sobs grew louder again,
hands covering her face.
The three makeup artists remained frozen,
around her only Ji-Han Min's calm, gentle voice—
"Jasmine… just breathe.
I won't let anyone hurt you…
Not again."
The light on the table illuminated her,
tears glistening in her eyes—
mafia, past, shadows…
all trying to pull her into darkness.
And from that darkness,
Ji-Han Min reached out and held her.
Tears filled her eyes,
but suddenly a memory flashed—
Flashback:
A secret hotel room in Russia, years ago.
Little Jasmine—white hair, blue eyes, full of fear—
standing beside a hidden door.
A man
golden hair, blue eyes,
occasionally exhaling cigarette smoke—
looked at her and said,
"Ты — моя Red Phantom. Никто не узнает правду."
("You are my Red Phantom… no one will know the truth.")
Little Jasmine trembled,
her feet slipping slightly on the floor,
knowing the secret she carried
would put her life in constant danger.
Behind him, a mafia shadow
and a hidden pact,
giving her this power, this identity, this life,
but repeatedly instilling fear, like a shadow.
End flashback.
Jasmine took a deep breath,
fingers touching her forehead.
"That shadow… that old key…
still wants to catch me."
Ji-Han Min stood beside her, holding her hand.
"Jasmine, whatever happened, I'm here.
You're not alone."
Jasmine wiped her tears,
gaining resolve
"All right… we'll move forward.
I will never back down again."
She slowly opened the studio door,
white fur coat hanging over her shoulders,
hands in pockets as she walked
each step lightly crunching on the snow.
Streetlights fell on her golden hair,
eyes carrying a mysterious aura
anger, fear, and strange determination mixed.
Her breath rose like mist,
her body slightly hunched in the coat,
yet her gaze invincible.
Behind her, a shadow
mafia eyes tracking her every step.
Jasmine silently told herself
"I am not alone…
I will never back down now."
Her feet pressed firmly on the snow,
hands in pockets, moving forward.
At the street's end,
the shadow drew closer,
but Jasmine advanced with a firm, steady determination.
Ji-Han Min walked beside her, slowly,
eyes vigilant,
hand gripping hers
ready for danger at any moment.
Snow mist and the silence of night
swirled around them,
the shadow watching everything.
Jasmine slowly entered her room,
removed her white fur coat,
kicked off her shoes.
Silently, breathing heavily,
her eyes still clouded with fatigue.
She lay down on the bed,
closing her eyes and taking a long breath.
Her arms spread wide,
her body trembling from cold, fear, and unusual tension.
Thoughts of the unknown,
mafia shadows, past memories,
and Ji-Han's promise of protection
all crashed together.
Tears welled in her eyes,
but she did not cry
just breathed, trying to calm her mind.
Her broken voice whispered to herself
"I am not alone…
I am not alone… I am not alone…"
Outside, the snowstorm made a soft sound,
but in the darkness of the room, Jasmine found peace.
Resting her head on the pillow,
hands lightly on her forehead,
she sank into darkness—
a moment of uneasy calm.