Jasmin was no longer just a model—she was now the proclaimed empress of Russia's most powerful mafia empire. After the success of her previous blood-soaked shoot, her name was on everyone's lips. This was a grand fashion event in Moscow. Thousands of lights, cameras flashing nonstop, and elite guests filled the hall. This time, Jasmin wasn't walking in a studio—she was striding down the runway of a massive auditorium.
Jasmin's Royal Presence
The moment Jasmin stepped onto the runway, the entire hall fell silent. She was wearing a jet-black velvet gown, paired with a diamond-studded neckband. There was no fear in her walk—only the arrogance of someone born to conquer.
Mafia Bodyguards in the Shadows
Although it was a glamorous event, for security reasons Dmitriy's most trusted mafia men were scattered throughout the hall in plain clothes. Dmitriy and Ziyaisko sat in the VIP gallery, their eyes fixed on Jasmin. Pride shone in Dmitriy's gaze, while Ziyaisko cautiously scanned the surroundings.
The Silent Signal
Halfway down the runway, Jasmin suddenly stopped. She looked straight into Dmitriy's eyes and gave him a mysterious smile. At that very moment, under the pretense of fixing a loose lock of hair with her left hand, she gave a subtle signal.
Jasmin knew that among today's massive crowd, at least one member of the Black Hawk Syndicate was hiding, watching her. Behind the façade of modeling, she was actually hunting for that spy.
Suddenly, amid the camera flashes, Jasmin noticed a red laser dot at the very back of the gallery—aimed directly at Dmitriy's chest.
She didn't waste a second. On the runway itself, she boldly turned as if striking a dramatic pose, positioning herself directly in Dmitriy's line of fire. In front of everyone, she tossed a scarf as part of her performance—strategically blocking the sniper's view.
As Jasmin struck her final pose on the runway, an angelic smile graced her face, but inside, she was burning with a killer's instinct. Fearlessly, she completed the walk and disappeared backstage. No one realized that Jasmin hadn't just finished modeling—she had marked her prey.
The Hunt Begins
After the show ended, Jasmin grabbed the man from behind by the throat and dragged him into a room.
In the dark backstage corridor, as the suspect tried to escape, Jasmin lunged at him with the speed of a cheetah. Her long black gown did not hinder her attack at all. With one hand she clamped over his mouth, and with the other she twisted his throat so tightly that he couldn't even scream.
She dragged him into an abandoned makeup room and kicked the door shut.
Jasmin started beating him.
1. Brutal Assault:
With her jewelry-adorned hands, Jasmin rained punch after punch onto the man's face. The diamond rings cut into his skin, splitting his forehead as blood began to flow. She didn't give him a single chance to speak.
2. Interrogation:
Pinning him to the floor, Jasmin leaned close to his ear and whispered coldly,
"Did the Black Hawk Syndicate send you? How dare you aim at Dmitriy?"
3. Merciless Strike:
When the man tried to fight back, Jasmin drove her high-heeled shoe—hidden beneath her dress—straight into his knee. The sound of bone cracking echoed through the room.
Jasmin was no longer a supermodel. She was now the Red Phantom, willing to do anything to protect Dmitriy.
At that moment, Dmitriy and Ziyaisko burst through the door. They weren't shocked by what they saw—if anything, they were impressed.
Dmitriy stepped forward, holding Jasmin's bloodstained hand, trying to calm her.
"Jessi, stop. We need him alive."
Ziyaisko grabbed the man by the hair and yanked his head up.
"Good work, sister-in-law. We'll take him to the torture cell now."
Jasmin was breathing heavily. She fixed her disheveled hair and brushed the blood off her gown. Looking at Dmitriy, she gave a deadly smile and said,
"Enough modeling, Dmitriy. Now it's time for the real hunt."
As Jasmin dropped the broken man onto the floor, the terrifying Red Phantom within her slowly began to fade. Her rage was replaced by deep exhaustion.
"Take him away, Ziyaisko," she said.
Her voice was ice-cold. She didn't want to see the man's face anymore.
Without a word, Ziyaisko grabbed the man by the throat and dragged him out like a dog. He knew Dmitriy and Jasmin needed some time alone. As he left, he pulled the makeup room door shut behind him.
Only Dmitriy and Jasmin
Now only Dmitriy and Jasmin remained in the room. Makeup tools were scattered everywhere, clear signs of the struggle still visible. Dmitriy slowly walked up to her. Her expensive velvet gown was slightly wrinkled, and her perfectly styled hair was now messy from the fight.
Dmitriy gently fixed her hair and pulled her into an embrace.
With great care, he tucked the loose strands from her forehead behind her ear. There was no hardness of a mafia boss in his touch—only boundless love. He softly drew her into his chest.
Jasmin hid against him like a child.
The woman who had just fought like a lioness now melted into Dmitriy's arms, fragile and small like a little girl. She buried her face deep into his chest. The familiar scent of his perfume and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat filled her with a strange peace.
Dmitriy rested his chin on her head and held her tighter. He understood—no matter how powerful a spy or model Jasmin was, at the end of the day, she sought shelter and tenderness in him.
"Everything will be okay, Jessi," Dmitriy whispered. "I'm here."
Jasmin clenched his shirt tightly. A single tear shimmered at the corner of her eye—one she didn't want anyone to see.
In the filth and violence of the mafia world, this embrace was their only heaven.In the heavy, tense atmosphere of the makeup room, Dmitriy realized that Jasmin was mentally exhausted today. After all, she was a supermodel on one side—and the protector of his life on the other. Dmitriy didn't waste a single moment.
Dmitriy picked Jasmin up in his arms.
Jasmin didn't protest. Instead, she wrapped both arms around Dmitriy's neck and rested her head on his shoulder. Holding her carefully in a bridal carry, Dmitriy exited through the studio's hidden back door. The bodyguards standing in the corridor lowered their heads respectfully and stepped aside when they saw their boss like this.
He took her straight home in the limousine.
Once inside the car, Dmitriy didn't let Jasmin move away from him for even a second. The interior of the limousine was calm and comfortable. Jasmin lay with her head on Dmitriy's lap. He gently stroked her hair while looking out the window, messaging Ziyaisko to make sure the man was kept under strict guard.
Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of their massive Volga Palace. Dmitriy once again lifted Jasmin into his arms, carried her inside, and took her straight to their bedroom so that she could rest.
He laid her down on the soft bed, removed her high-heeled shoes himself, placed them aside, and pulled a warm blanket over her. Jasmin's eyes were already heavy with sleep, but she tightly held onto Dmitriy's hand.
Dmitriy bent down and placed a deep kiss on her forehead.
"Sleep now, Jessi. I'm standing guard over your mountain. No enemy will enter this room tonight."
Jasmin smiled faintly and closed her eyes. After a long life of battles and the hardships of this day, wrapped in Dmitriy's love, she drifted into a sea of peace.
---
The Next Morning
The next morning, the Russian sky was crystal clear—but the cold was bone-chilling, and everything was covered in a thick white blanket of snow. The vast garden of the Volga Palace looked breathtakingly beautiful.
Then the next day, Dmitriy and Ziyaisko were walking together.
The two brothers were in an unusually cheerful mood. They wore expensive black fur overcoats that gave their tall, mafia-built figures a royal gravity. Yet today, there was no thirst for blood in their eyes. They walked shoulder to shoulder, speaking loudly in Russian and laughing. The distance of their childhood years seemed to melt away like snow turning into water. Ziyaisko cracked a joke, and Dmitriy burst into loud laughter.
Jasmin was walking behind them.
A few steps behind Dmitriy and Ziyaisko, Jasmin walked at a slow pace. No one could tell that just last night she had single-handedly destroyed a spy.
She was wearing a striking red fur coat, glowing like blood against the white snow. On her head was a matching fur hat, from which strands of her silky hair fell across her face in the icy wind. She looked like a queen from a Russian fairytale.
Suddenly, Dmitriy stopped and turned around. Smiling at Jasmin, he extended his hand toward her.
"Jessi, come here! Ziyaisko says that when we were kids, he pushed me into the snow—which is a complete lie!" Dmitriy said, laughing with a Russian accent.
Jasmin walked over and took Dmitriy's hand. She winked at Ziyaisko.
"I think Ziyaisko is telling the truth, Dmitriy. Maybe you just forgot!"
Ziyaisko clapped his hands.
"See, brother? Even my sister-in-law is on my side!"
The three of them continued walking across the snow. The brothers' deep Russian conversation mixed with Jasmin's sweet laughter, creating an unusual sense of peace. Yet even in this lighthearted moment, Jasmin noticed the pistols still tucked beneath their coats. Peace existed—but they knew survival in this world was impossible without constant vigilance.
Encouraged by Jasmin's words, Ziyaisko teasingly sped up, trying to provoke Dmitriy. Dmitriy chased after him.
Then Ziyaisko fell.
His foot slipped on an icy patch, and he crashed down hard into the snow. His expensive black fur coat was smeared white. The fearsome Ziyaisko of the mafia world was now sprawled on the ground like a child.
Jasmin started laughing.
She couldn't control herself. Adjusting her red fur hat, she burst into laughter, her voice breaking the garden's silence. She doubled over, laughing uncontrollably.
Dmitriy stood still and extended a hand toward Ziyaisko, laughing himself.
"What happened, brother? Did Russia's snow get a little too affectionate with you?"
Ziyaisko tried to get up, scratching his head. He looked at Jasmin, slightly embarrassed, then laughed too.
"Sister-in-law, you're laughing? I thought you'd come help me!"
Still laughing, Jasmin walked over holding Dmitriy's hand.
"Of course I'll help—but laughing at you first was more important. Dmitriy, look at him—he looks exactly like a polar bear!"
Ziyaisko brushed off the snow and, jokingly, threw a snowball at Jasmin. She quickly dodged and hid behind Dmitriy. Watching the joy between his two favorite people, Dmitriy forgot for a moment that they belonged to a world darker than blood itself.
Jasmin stood there in amazement. Two of Russia's most terrifying mafia dons—whose names made the underworld tremble—were now acting like ordinary children.
Then Jasmin saw them tripping each other up.
As Ziyaisko tried to stand again, Dmitriy mischievously nudged his leg. Ziyaisko fell once more with a thud. But he wasn't one to give up—while falling, he grabbed the edge of Dmitriy's coat and pulled, causing Dmitriy to lose his balance and crash into the snow as well.
They kept laughing.
The two brothers rolled around in the snow, shoving each other. Their black fur coats turned white. Laughing wildly, they held onto each other's arms, almost losing their minds. Lost childhood moments seemed to return in this snowy garden. Ziyaisko rubbed snow on Dmitriy's face, and Dmitriy retaliated with snowballs.
Jasmin stood at a distance, watching this rare scene. Hands tucked into the pockets of her red fur coat, she smiled and thought—are these the same men who were bathing in blood last night? The power of love is truly strange.
Laughing, Jasmin shouted,
"If you two don't get up right now, I'll take pictures and send them to every Russian magazine! Let the world see how the bosses of the Volga Empire wrestle in the snow!"
Hearing this, both brothers froze—then burst out laughing even harder. Dmitriy pulled Ziyaisko up, and together they brushed off the snow and walked toward Jasmin.
Dmitriy placed a hand around Jasmin's waist, his nose red from the cold.
"Jessi, today—after many years—I finally feel alive."
Shaking snow from his hair, Ziyaisko added,
"Sister-in-law, if Dmitriy's enemies saw him like this today, they'd stop fighting and die laughing!"
The Ominous Call
In the middle of this joyful moment, the vibration of Jasmin's phone turned the atmosphere heavy.
She pulled the phone from her coat pocket—it was Ji-Han calling.
Jasmin answered the call.
The moment she put the phone to her ear, Ji-Han's breathless voice came through.
"What happened, Ji-Han? Why are you so panicked?" Jasmin asked.
Ji-Han nearly shouted,
"Jasmin, I don't know how to say this! Someone has infiltrated the Korean NLS… his name is Takezo Marsh!"
Jasmin froze in terror. The phone slipped from her hand.
The moment she heard the name Takezo Marsh, her entire body turned to ice. Old, horrifying memories flashed before her eyes. She knew exactly how ruthless and dangerous Takezo Marsh was. He wasn't just a mafia boss or a spy—he was a living devil.
So shaken was Jasmin that the phone fell from her numb fingers onto the snow. Her breathing became shallow. Takezo Marsh was not a good man—he was tied to the darkest, most nightmarish chapter of her life.
Seeing Jasmin's pale face and the phone falling from her hand, Dmitriy and Ziyaisko became alert instantly. Dmitriy rushed forward and pulled her into his arms.
"Jessi! What happened? Who was on the phone?"
Ziyaisko bent down and picked up the phone from the snow.
Jasmin couldn't speak. She was trembling.
She knew it then—the peaceful calm covered in Russian snow was about to be consumed by a massive firestorm.
Takezo Marsh coming to Russia meant only one thing: the beginning of death and destruction.
Jasmin somehow steadied herself and looked at Dmitriy and Ziyaisko. There was an terror in her voice deeper than tears.
"T-Dmitriy… Ziyaisko… Takezo Marsh is entering Russia," she said, her voice trembling.
"He's not an ordinary man. He's a Korean spy—but he works for the mafia. He knows the internal secrets of the NLS."
Fire ignited in Dmitriy's eyes.
Before Ziyaisko could speak, Jasmin continued, her words sharp with fear.
"Ji-Han is a spy too, yes. But Takezo Marsh is different. He will destroy Russia's peace and elegance completely. Wherever he goes, only ruins remain."
Ziyaisko clenched the phone tightly in his hand.
"So this Takezo Marsh is here to shatter our reunion—and the Russian mafia empire?"
Jasmin nodded slowly. She knew how terrifying Takezo's cruelty truly was. He didn't just want to destroy the Russian underworld—he wanted to crush the dignity and power that Dmitriy and Ziyaisko had built.
Dmitriy grabbed Jasmin's hand firmly.
"Calm down, Jessi. If Takezo Marsh sets foot on Russian soil, he won't leave alive. Ziyaisko, alert our intelligence immediately. We'll welcome Takezo Marsh—Volga style."
The Parking Lot
The moment the black car stopped in the parking lot, Jasmin's sixth sense flared alive. She felt it—the shadow of Takezo Marsh was close.
She didn't want to take any risks.
"Go home," Jasmin said firmly to Dmitriy and Ziyaisko.
Dmitriy held her wrist, refusing.
"Jessi, I won't leave you alone. Takezo Marsh is my enemy too."
Jasmin snapped.
"GO HOME!"
The fury in her eyes froze both men. They understood—this wasn't Dmitriy's wife speaking. This was a seasoned spy issuing an order. Takezo Marsh's war was different—dirty, personal, merciless.
Reluctantly, Dmitriy looked at Ziyaisko. Ziyaisko placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, silently telling him to trust her.
Before leaving, Dmitriy touched Jasmin's forehead gently.
"We're going, Jessi. But my guards will surround the area. If there's even the slightest danger—I'm coming back."
The limousine drove away.
Jasmin stood alone in the parking lot. She pulled her pistol from inside her red fur coat and loaded it.
Against the white snow, she stood alone—a red predator waiting for her deadliest enemy.
The Devil Appears
Jasmin sat in a deserted, snow-covered corner of the parking lot. The silence was absolute. Her bright red fur coat burned against the white snow like a warning.
She felt him coming.
The black car door opened.
Slowly, deliberately, Takezo Marsh stepped out. He wore an expensive overcoat, his eyes cold and merciless. He walked across the snow and stopped directly in front of her.
Jasmin didn't run. She stared back without blinking.
Takezo crouched in front of her and slowly reached out, touching her cheek. His touch carried a twisted sense of possession.
He leaned close and whispered,
"Miss me?"
Jasmin's body shuddered with hatred and terror. Dark memories flooded back—the same crooked smile, the same devil behind human skin.
Grinding her teeth, she replied calmly,
"I knew you'd come, Takezo. But remember—this isn't Korea. This is Russia. And here, I'm not powerless."
Takezo laughed mockingly.
"Your power? Dmitriy and Ziyaisko? They're just toys, Jessi. I came to take you back—and I will."
The Slap & the Gun
That was it.
Jasmin slapped him hard across the face.
The sound echoed through the empty parking lot. Takezo's head snapped to the side. Blood split at the corner of his lip.
In the same instant, Jasmin pulled out her silver pistol and pressed the barrel directly against his forehead.
Her hand didn't shake.
"How dare you touch me?" she hissed.
"I'm not the weak Jasmin you controlled anymore. I'm part of the Volga Empire now. I can bury you under this snow right now."
Takezo wiped the blood from his lip and smiled—unafraid, unhinged.
"Well done, Jessi," he whispered.
"But before you pull the trigger, my men could already be inside Dmitriy's palace. Are you willing to take that risk?"
Her grip tightened.
Snowfall thickened. In the distance, headlights from Dmitriy's guards flickered.
The Warning Shot
Jasmin raised the gun slightly and fired.
The gunshot shattered the silence.
The bullet struck the ground barely an inch from Takezo's expensive boot. Snow and concrete burst upward.
Smoke curled from the barrel.
"Next bullet won't be a warning," Jasmin said coldly.
"It'll go straight through your head. Don't ever speak Dmitriy's name again."
Takezo stared at the bullet hole, then back at her—with devilish delight.
"Your aim is still perfect," he said calmly.
"You've changed. Russia has made you stronger. But remember—I didn't come just to threaten. I came to destroy."
Sirens echoed in the distance.
Dmitriy's security forces were approaching fast.
Takezo smirked.
"For today, I'll leave, Jessi. But this is only the beginning. I'm very close."
He entered his car and vanished into the darkness.
Jasmin kept her gun raised, her hands trembling—not from fear, but from rage at letting him go.
Aftermath
Moments later, Dmitriy's limousine and black SUVs surrounded her.
Dmitriy jumped out and ran toward her, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"Jessi! Are you hurt? I heard the gunshot!"
"He's gone," she said against his chest. "But he'll come back."
Ziyaisko scanned the area, noticing the bullet mark in the snow.
"We need to move. Takezo didn't come alone."
Dmitriy cupped Jasmin's face gently, wiping away the memory of Takezo's touch.
"You won't leave my sight again."
Cutting the Past
Inside the moving limousine, Jasmin took out her phone.
She called Alia's ex-boyfriend.
The moment he answered, she said coldly,
"I don't need your help anymore. Everything you offered—I'm rejecting it."
He tried to speak, but she cut him off.
"Remember where I am now. The strongest power in Russia stands behind me. Stay away from me and my family. All deals end today."
She ended the call.
Jasmin removed the SIM card and threw it out the window into the snow.
Now she had only one goal left—
Protect Russia.
And silence Takezo Marsh forever.