Chapter 3: First Encounter
1115 Words
The rain grew heavier, and since it was still winter, it felt bone-chillingly cold as it washed over her. Yet Snow Anderson felt nothing—soaked through, her face pale and ashen, an air of profound melancholy clinging to her...
For the first time in her life, Snow felt a deep desolation settle in her heart—in this vast world, there was nowhere she belonged!?
Moments ago, she had caught her reflection in a shop window—or rather, the reflection of a stranger...
This body seemed more Eastern in appearance. By her face, she was young—certainly younger than the Snow of her previous life. Slender and graceful, every movement carried an elegant charm. Her features were delicate, beautiful even without makeup, a truly stunning mixed-race beauty. But alas, this wasn't her.
Snow didn't know why she had suddenly appeared here. She didn't know who she was now. In this chaotic, unfamiliar era, with nothing and no one to rely on, where should she go?
Head hanging low, dragging her heavy steps, Snow walked aimlessly. She didn't know where she was going, yet could only stumble forward—at least this way, the terror and panic in her heart might ease, if only by a little.
Snow felt like a wandering ghost, walking alone through the mortal world, with no connection to anyone or anything around her. Only she remained—lonely, desolate...
With her gaze lowered, Snow didn't notice ahead. As she stepped out of the corner, she was about to collide with the man coming toward her...
His eyes narrowed sharply, his body tensing like a leopard ready to strike, a cold murderous glint rising in his gaze.
In this blood-soaked underworld where assassinations lurked around every corner, and as the future heir of the Romano family, he had long been accustomed to maintaining constant vigilance, never letting his guard down for a moment.
With a sudden motion, the man's large palm clamped precisely around Snow's wrist—clearly the result of extensive training, swift as lightning. The bodyguards following behind couldn't even react in time, only gasping instinctively.
Yet Snow, the one actually being held, didn't make a sound.
In truth, his grip was powerful, rough enough to cause pain—but she felt nothing, not even furrowing her brow.
"Let go."
Snow didn't even look at the man, nor did she struggle. Her lips parted, two English words spoken softly, cold as water...
The man's brow furrowed imperceptibly—she wasn't afraid of him at all, which surprised him. He seemed determined to see through her, his eagle-sharp eyes fixed upon her, sweeping over her again and again.
Suddenly, the man gripped Snow's chin, forcing her to look at him...
The rain had drenched her completely, her long hair becoming disordered under the downpour, water droplets dripping from her hair ends. She looked utterly wretched.
This face held a purely exotic Eastern quality. Perhaps because of the cold, it was so pale it had lost all color—like a doll made of white porcelain, fragile, breakable.
On those lashes that drooped like butterfly wings, water droplets clung, as if hiding tears that had yet to fall. Those lips that should have been a luscious red had lost all color too, pressed thin, as if forcing back grief—clearly stubborn, yet somehow revealing an underlying sorrow...
With just one glance, those eyes that could see through everything in this world understood completely—she was afraid. In her heart, she must be utterly alone and helpless, yet her expression remained remarkably calm. When she looked at him, there was almost no ripple.
Those eyes were beautiful. The pupils were pure ice blue, stunning. In the rain, they were like sapphires soaked in water—clear, translucent, flawless. Only faint ripples moved within—panic, but he knew it wasn't because of him. Rather, it seemed innate...
She was afraid. Something that could completely alter her fate must be manipulating her right now, influencing her, and tormenting her!
What a contradictory combination—clearly a delicate, pure little white rabbit, yet insisting on holding herself together!
In the curtain of rain, the man stood like a high-and-mighty dark king, his eagle-sharp eyes examining this wretched, destitute Eastern little white rabbit without a trace of emotion. Having confirmed her harmlessness, he roughly threw her hand aside...
Still, she didn't cry out. Freed from his grip, Snow lifted her foot to walk away, saying not another word—like a walking corpse, moving slowly forward, without direction.
Never before had anyone—especially a woman—ignored him so completely!
His thin lips pressed into a faint line, the man decisively brushed aside the strange feeling in his heart. Turning, his military-style boots struck the ground with steady steps as he boarded the car that had been waiting at the corner.
The next moment, his tall, straight figure disappeared, the sound of his powerful footsteps suddenly vanishing, leaving behind a faint trace of regret...
Instantly, the street corner returned to silence, empty as if that brief encounter had been nothing but a fleeting dream...
The wheels left tracks on the wet pavement. Having moved only a few seconds, the man, who had remained silent, suddenly spoke.
"Stop."
In the darkness, his face couldn't be seen, but that faint, cold command carried an irresistible authority—like a natural-born underworld emperor, a single word holding infinite power.
"Mr. Romano, do you have—"
With a slight gesture, he silenced the driver's question. The man turned his gaze toward the window, the sharp cold light in his eyes cutting through the darkness straight to Snow...
This time, she wasn't alone. Someone came running toward her from the other end of the long street.
"Snow! Snow, where did you go?"
Snow?
She froze in place, staring blankly at the woman running toward her, unable to calm herself for a long time...
Could this body's name also be Snow?
"Snow, where did you go? We've been looking for you for so long—we thought we'd never find you again. You really scared me..."
She trotted up to Snow, the umbrella in her hand, rescuing her from the freezing rain. The woman reached out with one hand to touch Snow's face—that ice-cold, pale, stunning beauty.
"Your face is so cold. Are you freezing?"
Touching Snow's face and feeling that chill, the woman's hand trembled slightly.
Her gaze lowered, sweeping over Snow, taking in her wretched state. The worry on the woman's face became even more pronounced...
"Snow, are you okay? How did you get so soaked? Did something happen to you?"
- Writer
