Chapter One
The Night of Snow and Blood
The snow that night was more than just a passing weather.
It was a white curtain hiding a crime about to be born.
It was December 2005. The European city that appeared elegant and quiet by day transformed into something else at night. Faint yellow lights, nearly empty streets, and the distant sound of a passing train slicing through the darkness like a long, mournful sigh.
Lian did not like winter.
She always said that the cold made the world too honest, exposing emptiness, revealing loneliness, and showing the truth without mercy.
She pulled her gray coat tightly around her slender frame, her breath rising in the cold air like tiny fleeing clouds. She was returning from work at a small café near the main square. A simple life, a modest salary, and dreams far bigger than the city itself.
She did not know that this night would not end as it began.
Two streets away, a sleek black car was parked at the curb. Its engine purred quietly, and the music inside was barely audible.
Adrian Rossi sat behind the wheel, not looking at the road, but at his wristwatch. Midnight sharp. His eyes were gray and cold, as if the winter sky had taken residence within them. His face was calm—almost unnervingly so—but his hand on the steering wheel was tense.
The phone rang.
He lifted it without a word.
A rough voice came through:
"The target will pass from the east side in three minutes. No mistakes tonight. Your father is watching."
The line went dead.
He exhaled slowly. This was not his first mission, nor would it be his last. Yet, for some reason he couldn't name, a strange heaviness weighed on his chest.
On the other side of the street, Lian's footsteps were quick, snow crunching softly under her shoes. She checked her phone. She was later than usual. Then her eyes caught a black car not far ahead. She didn't pay it much mind. In a big city, luxury cars weren't unusual.
But a feeling crept into her stomach—a sense that she was being watched. She quickened her pace.
Inside the car, Adrian spotted her. She was not the target. The target, a man, would cross the street behind her in moments. A corrupt deal. An internal betrayal. The order was clear: "Finish it tonight."
Yet she was walking straight into the line of fire.
The car door opened slowly. Cold air hit his face. He took a step forward… then another.
At that moment, two men emerged from a corner across the street. One held a suppressed weapon. Everything happened in seconds. The target appeared from the side street. Muffled sounds… gunfire.
But suddenly—
Lian turned at the exact moment. The first bullet missed. A short scream tore through the silence. She wasn't hit, though the air from the bullet brushed against her shoulder. She fell to the ground.
And then… something happened that was never part of the plan.
Adrian saw the bullet heading toward her.
He didn't think. He didn't calculate. He didn't hesitate.
He raised his weapon and fired.
The man aiming at her dropped immediately. The second man stepped back, stunned. Chaos erupted.
Someone shouted, "Rossi's son, what are you doing?!"
But Adrian heard nothing. Only her trembling breaths. He moved closer, extending a hand.
"Are you hurt?"
She didn't answer. Her eyes were wide… stunned.
"Get up." His voice was not harsh—it was firm. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along. They ran.
The snow was no longer white. Red stains began to spread behind them. The sounds of approaching cars filled the streets.
One man spoke over the radio, "The plan is out of control! The target escaped! And the girl—"
A gunshot cut him off.
Adrian slipped into an abandoned warehouse near the old harbor. He slammed the iron door shut. The loud crash echoed. Silence followed. Not the calm of peace, but the hush of two ragged breaths.
Lian pressed herself against the wall.
"Who are you?!" Her voice cracked between fear and anger.
He looked at her. Up close, for the first time. Her dark hair framed her face, a small drop of blood on her forehead—not hers. Her brown eyes weren't just scared—they were angry.
"I'm the man who saved you."
"Saved me from what? Who are you? What is happening?!"
A moment of silence. Then he spoke in a calm, deadly tone:
"You weren't supposed to be here. And I wasn't supposed to shoot to protect you."
If you want, I can continue and translate the entire chapter in this same cinematic, polished style, keeping the pacing, tension, and romance of your story.