EXT. APARTMENT COMPLEX – EVENING
Snowflake steps out, radiant as ever in her black shimmer dress. She clutches her tiny clutch purse, phone in hand, double-checking the cab's ETA. The wind plays with her curls as she waits near the curb, heels tapping softly on the pavement.
Suddenly…
SCREECH.
A black Beamer halts right in front of her. Four men in eerie suits step out. Their faces hidden behind cold, expressionless masks—each painted with a red blood-cross. Their lapels bear the chilling black flag with a skeleton face.
Before she can scream, one of them grabs her.
SNOWFLAKE (struggling):
"What—no! Let go of me!"
A masked man silences her with a gloved hand.
MASKED MAN (gruffly):
"Boss said to bring the pretty girl. No harm—unless she resists."
They force her into the back seat. Her phone drops and slides under the pavement near a flower pot, the screen glowing faintly with Adam's sent location.
The door slams shut. Tires screech. The car disappears into the night.
INT. BEAMER – MOVING – NIGHT
Snowflake, now trembling, tries to compose herself. She looks at them, heart pounding.
SNOWFLAKE (defiant):
"You have no idea what you're doing. He'll find me. He'll destroy you."
One of them chuckles menacingly.
MASKED MAN:
"That's the point, sweetheart. Let the big bad Adam come looking."
CUT TO: ADAM – OUTSIDE THE RESTAURANT
Standing beside the open door, checking his phone. Still no "seen" on the last message. He calls. No answer.
He frowns.
A gut feeling stabs through his chest.
ADAM (to driver):
"Get the car. Now. Something's wrong."
INT. BLACK BEAMER – SPEEDING THROUGH ALLEYS – NIGHT
Snowflake's breathing grew erratic. She struggled, her hands trying to resist—
THWACK.
One of the masked men shoved her back. Her already bruised wrist slammed against the edge of the window, where a sharp knife lay loosely in the hand of another man.
SNOWFLAKE (screams softly):
"Aah—!"
The blade nicked her wrist. Blood oozed, trickling fast.
Her eyes widened. A wave of dizziness hit. She was terrified of blood.
Her breathing faltered. The world around her spun. And before she could cry for help—
THUMP.
She fainted, her head hitting the glass window with a soft yet sickening thud.
Her tear-streaked cheeks, pink from fear and cold, were now pale. Her lashes fluttered faintly. Her red, puffy eyes slowly closed.
But the masked men…
MASKED MAN 1 (turning to look):
"Hah. Poor thing. Fainted from fear."
MASKED MAN 2:
"Told you. These delicate types can't handle a little scare."
None of them noticed the blood silently staining her dress and the car seat.
EXT. ABANDONED INDUSTRIAL ZONE – NIGHT
The black Beamer screeched to a halt outside a concealed iron gate. Behind it: a dilapidated structure—part warehouse, part underground bunker. Inside, the kingdom of Adam's rival—the ruthless, cold-blooded "Raze."
They carried Snowflake inside carelessly, like a fragile package, her wrist still bleeding, her head bruised.
INT. BUNKER – MAIN HALL
The walls were dark. Dim red lights flickered. Cigarette smoke filled the air. In the center sat Raze, on a throne-like chair. Tattoos crept up his neck, a silver tooth glinting when he smirked.
RAZE (leaning forward):
"So, this is her?"
The men placed her limp body in front of him.
MASKED MAN:
"She fainted. Too weak to fight."
Raze stood. Walked toward her slowly. Crouched. His eyes noticed something.
RAZE (sharply):
"She's bleeding."
He grabbed her wrist. Blood still oozing. Her head had a bruise too.
RAZE (growls):
"You idiots hurt her? Did I ask you to damage her?!"
He stood up, enraged.*
RAZE (to one of them):
"Call the medic. Now. If she dies, you're all dead before sunrise."
Meanwhile…
INT. ADAM'S CAR – NIGHT
Adam sat in the back seat, fists clenched. His jaw tight. His eyes scanning every alley they passed.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed—an alert from Snowflake's security app. Someone reported a dropped purse with her ID near the taxi zone.
ADAM (muttering):
"No cab ever came. She was taken."
His eyes darkened.
ADAM (commanding):
"Activate trace protocol. Get every camera feed in the last hour. I want every vehicle identified. And someone get me the cross symbol with the skeleton flag."
The car turned sharply.
ADAM (softly, almost to himself):
"Snowflake… hold on. I'm coming."
INT. BUNKER INFIRMARY – DIMLY LIT ROOM – NIGHT
The walls were bare, grey, and cold. A single dim bulb flickered above. Snowflake lay on a narrow cot, wrapped in a blanket. Her wrist was bandaged. A faint antiseptic smell hung in the air.
She stirred. Her lashes fluttered.
SNOWFLAKE (weakly):
"W-Where… am I?"
Her head pounded. As her vision cleared, she noticed a tall man—Raze—standing by the door. Sharp suit, a red cross pin glinting. Cold eyes watching her.
RAZE (calmly):
"You're awake. Good."
Snowflake immediately backed into the corner of the bed, panic rising.
SNOWFLAKE (terrified):
"Who are you?! What is this place?!"
RAZE (smirking):
"Relax, sweetheart. You were just… brought here to have a little chat. No one meant to hurt you."
He looked at her bandaged wrist. Guilt flickered, but disappeared quickly.
RAZE (gritting his teeth at his men):
"They were too rough. My apologies."
Snowflake's eyes welled with tears again. Her hand trembled, reaching to touch her bruised temple.
SNOWFLAKE (softly):
"I want to leave… please…"
Raze tilted his head, walking closer.
RAZE (mocking):
"Do you even know who you're dealing with, love? You've caught the attention of someone powerful... and dangerous."
Suddenly—
CRASH!!
The door BURSTS open. Gunshots echo in the hallway.
GUARD (shouting):
"He's here!!"
RAZE (whirls around, furious):
"Adam?! Already?!"
INT. BUNKER – HALLWAY OUTSIDE INFIRMARY – SAME TIME
Adam walks in, dressed in black, fury in his eyes. His men sweep through the bunker with military precision. He doesn't blink, doesn't hesitate.
ADAM (coldly):
"Where. Is. She."
Two of Raze's men try to block the hallway—Adam shoots past them without a second glance. The roar of his rage silences the chaos.
He kicks open the infirmary door.
INT. BUNKER INFIRMARY
Snowflake gasps. Her lips part in disbelief. There he is—Adam. Eyes burning. Shirt slightly unbuttoned. Hands bruised from the fight. Breathing heavy.
ADAM (relieved but furious):
"Snowflake…"
She stares. Tears stream down her cheeks.
He storms in, grabs Raze by the collar, slams him into the wall.
ADAM (low, dangerous):
"If I ever see you within a mile of her again, I'll make sure your empire ends in flames."
Raze laughs, wiping blood off his lip.
RAZE:
"She's got you wrapped around her little finger, Adam."
Adam doesn't respond. He walks over to Snowflake, crouches down, cupping her face gently.
ADAM (softly):
"I'm here now. You're safe."
She throws her arms around him, crying into his shoulder.
SNOWFLAKE:
"You… you came for me…"
ADAM (hugging her tightly):
"Always."
At the hospital, nurses rushed toward Adam as he carried Snowflake in his arms—her dress stained with blood, her pulse faint. He shouted, voice trembling with urgency, "She's losing too much blood! NOW!"
Doctors wheeled her into the emergency room. The sliding doors shut between them. Adam stood frozen outside, fists clenched, jaw tight. His guards stood back—no one dared disturb his silence.
He stared at the blood on his sleeves. Her blood. His Snowflake.
The doctor finally came out after what felt like hours. "She's stable. But she needs rest and close monitoring. The cut was deep... she was lucky you brought her in time."
Adam exhaled—relieved, yet not at peace.
"Can I see her?" he asked, voice softer.
The doctor nodded.
Inside, Snowflake lay pale and unconscious. A bandage wrapped around her wrist, an IV drip by her side. Adam walked to her quietly, pulled a chair, and sat beside her. He gently tucked her curls behind her ear, whispering:
"You promised me coffee today, remember?"
He chuckled bitterly, eyes filled with pain.
"Next time... I'll never let you walk out alone."
He held her hand again, careful not to touch the bandage. Just held her fingertips like a fragile piece of his heart.
She stirred slightly.
Dave's voice crackled through the line, calm yet alert, "I'll handle it, boss. I already sent our men to scout the harbor. But…" — he paused — "it has Red Cross written all over it."
Adam's eyes sharpened like daggers. The same masked bastards who took Snowflake. The rival. The traitor.
Still holding her fingers gently, he muttered under his breath, "You crossed the line now."
His aura changed. Even in a hospital room with beeping monitors and soft light, it felt like the air turned heavier. His guards outside stiffened just sensing the shift.
Adam stood up, took off his bloodstained blazer, handed it to one of his men, and said coldly, "Prepare the boys. Tonight, we take everything back. Burn their flag if you have to. But not one of them walks away without a limp."
Before leaving, he looked at Snowflake one more time. Then to the nurse:
"She moves even an inch—call me."
He placed his personal number again near the bed.
He kissed her forehead softly. "I'll be back. And this time, they'll pay for touching you."
Then, like a shadow cloaked in vengeance, Adam stormed out of the hospital…
Midnight – Adam's Hidden Dockyard – Underground War Room
Dim lights. Monitors flickering. His elite team gathered. All in black.
Dave spreads out a map. "Red Cross took over our main port. They're operating from the east bunker near the refinery. Same location Snowflake was held."
Adam, now in full combat gear—black tactical shirt, gloves, boots, and his signature leather wrist strap—eyes burning with fury, mutters,
"They dared to touch what's mine."
He slams his palm on the table.
"This isn't business anymore. It's personal."
He turns to Dave.
"We're going silent. No calls. No mercy. No survivors except the one who ordered it—bring him to me alive."
His men nod. Guns loaded. Masks down.
Red Cross Bunker – 1:23 AM
The Red Cross gang is celebrating. Booze, guns, and loud music. Their leader, Victor, Adam's rival, sits smug on a throne-like chair.
Suddenly… blackout.
Lights gone. Music off.
Then—
Boom.
One wall explodes inward.
Smoke. Screams. Confusion.
From the smoke—Adam walks in. Alone. Calm.
One by one, his men enter like ghosts. Silent takedowns. Bullets only when needed. Precision.
Victor tries to escape through the backdoor—
But Adam's already there.
He pins him to the wall with one hand around his throat.
Adam (low, cold): "You touched her wrist."
Victor: "It was just business—!"
Adam: "She fainted in blood."
Punch.
Victor falls to the ground coughing blood.
Adam: "You left bruises on her. You made her cry."
Another punch. A rib cracks.
Adam signals his men.
"Clear out. I need a moment."
They obey without a word.
Now, only Adam and Victor in the blood-splattered room.
Adam kneels. Looks into Victor's terrified eyes.
"Tell your men… your empire… your ghosts—she's mine."
He stands.
"And if you ever breathe near her shadow again—your bones won't be found."
He walks away as his men set fire to the bunker behind him.
Back in the Car – 3:00 AM
Adam removes his blood-stained gloves. Silence.
His phone buzzes.
Text from Hospital Nurse:
"She's stable. Still unconscious. Whispered your name in her sleep."
He closes his eyes, exhales deeply, finally letting the weight fall.
Adam (to himself):
"I'm coming back, Snowflake. No more nightmares. Only me now."
Early Morning – Hospital Room – Soft Light Filtering In
Snowflake slowly opened her eyes. The white ceiling swirled slightly in her vision. Her head was heavy… her throat dry… her body sore.
She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of her surroundings. A soft beeping sound—the monitor beside her. A saline drip. Bandages.
Her wrist—wrapped.
Doctor:
"Good morning. Don't try to sit just yet, Miss. You fainted from blood loss and trauma, but you're stable now."
Snowflake's lips moved, but no voice came out. She tried again.
"…Where…?"
Nurse (cheerfully):
"You're in St. Augustine's Hospital, dear. Safe and sound."
The nurse carefully supported her back while placing a pillow behind her. She smiled gently while checking the IV, clearly hiding excitement behind her professional expression.
As the doctor examined her wrist, he spoke softly, "Careful. This injury was… deep. But you were lucky someone got you here just in time."
Snowflake's mind raced.
She glanced to her left—and there it was.
Adam's card.
Slightly bent, smudged with a little dried blood.
Her eyes widened.
That's when fragments returned—
The masked men.
The black car.
The cut...
And—Adam.
Her inner thoughts:
Did he come? Did he find me? Did he carry me here? Why is his card here? Was he the one who saved me?
The nurse, catching her dazed gaze toward the card, smiled knowingly.
Nurse (softly, teasing):
"He didn't leave your side till 4 a.m. Almost punched a doctor when we had to give you stitches… He looked like he'd burn the world down for you."
Snowflake's throat tightened. Her heart skipped.
She looked down at her bandaged wrist, gently brushing it with her fingers.
"Where is he now?" she asked in a whisper.
Nurse (smiling):
"Probably outside. Haven't seen a man this restless in years."
The doctor gave her a final nod and left the room.
The nurse leaned in, adjusting her blanket, and whispered like a friend:
"He carried you in himself. Blood on his hands. Eyes full of fire. But when he looked at you… like you were the only thing that could calm that storm."
Snowflake looked at the door. Her lips parted slightly.
"Adam…"
The nurse tucks the blanket gently, her words still lingering in the air. Snowflake blinks slowly, eyes glassy but touched with a flicker of warmth.
Nurse (with a smile):
"I'll leave you to rest… but I think someone's been waiting to see those eyes open."
As she leaves, the door opens slowly with a faint click. Adam steps in. No guards, no shadow behind him—just him. Unshaven. Sleepless. Still in the same black shirt stained faintly with dried blood near the cuff. His steps are quiet, almost hesitant, but his eyes—those stormy eyes—lock onto hers like she's the only anchor he's ever known.
Adam (hoarse whisper):
"You're awake…"
He walks toward her slowly, almost as if afraid she might disappear. He stops beside her bed, but doesn't sit. His hands clench and unclench at his sides.
Adam (barely above a whisper):
"They hurt you… again. I wasn't there in time."
He looks down, jaw tight, guilt written in every line of his face.
Snowflake's POV – The room feels too quiet, too still.
Her breath caught in her throat as Adam stood there—like a storm bottled up in human form. She wanted to speak, but her voice trembled before a single word could form. Her hand instinctively clutched the blanket as her lips quivered.
Snowflake (whispering, almost broken):
"I… I thought I'd never see anyone again…"
Her voice cracked. A single tear traced down her cheek as she turned her head slightly away, staring at the faint light slipping through the curtain. Her wrist—bandaged again—ached, but not as much as her heart.
Snowflake (continuing, barely audible):
"They wore masks… held knives… I was so scared, Adam… I couldn't breathe… I couldn't scream..."
She looked at him then—truly looked. His disheveled hair, the fury still lingering in his eyes, but more than that—the way he was looking at her. Not with pity. But like he wished he could take her pain and bury it in the deepest pit of the earth.
Snowflake (tears in her eyes):
"How did you… find me?"
*Her voice was small. Vulnerable. But her eyes asked more—Why do you care this much? Why do you look at me like I'm your world?
Adam's hand trembled slightly as he took a step closer to her. His eyes, usually sharp and commanding, now carried a storm of guilt—like waves crashing under the weight of regret.
He didn't speak at first.
Instead, he pulled out his phone…
Unlocked it…
And held the screen toward her with both hands—like it was something sacred, something fragile.
It was her message.
The one she'd sent hours ago.
"Whenever you are free let me know.
This time I'll treat you with a coffee or whatever you like…
Your fav. place, your time ☺️"
The screen flickered softly in the dim light of the hospital room. She stared at it, and her lips parted just slightly.
Adam's voice finally came—low, rough, like he'd swallowed fire and guilt all at once.
Adam:
"I was too late… I kept looking at that message again and again—thinking how I'd tease you when I saw you. I wanted to see you laugh. Not like this… not broken… not hurting…"
His eyes were glassy now, chest rising and falling with a tremor he could barely control.
Adam (stepping closer):
"I'm sorry, Snowflake… I should've been there faster. I was supposed to protect you…"
And for the first time, the mafia boss looked like he was the one wounded.
She blinked slowly, her vision still a bit hazy—yet crystal clear when it came to him. The moment felt like a dream painted in shades of pain and warmth.
Her voice was soft. Fragile.
Barely louder than a whisper—like wind brushing across broken glass.
Snowflake:
"You came… that's all I remember. Everything was dark, and then… I saw you."
She looked at his phone, then back into his eyes.
Snowflake (with a shaky breath):
"You held me like I was the only thing in your world… And even if I was bleeding, even if I was broken… in that moment, I wasn't afraid."
A tear rolled down her cheek—not out of pain, but because of him… because even in the storm, he had become her calm.
She reached out slowly, her hand trembling, and placed it gently over his—still holding the phone.
Snowflake (soft smile):
"You didn't fail me, Adam… You saved me."
And just for a moment, even the monitors seemed to pause—witnessing the quiet magic between two hearts that had begun to find their way to each other through blood, chaos, and care.
Scene softens…
Snowflake sleeps peacefully—her fingers curled around Adam's little finger like a secret promise she wasn't even aware she made. Her breaths slow. Steady. Safe. The IV drips in rhythm, but the loudest beat in that room was Adam's heart.
The phone buzzed.
Adam didn't move his hand. Didn't dare disturb that fragile grip.
With his free hand, he slid the phone to his ear.
Adam (low tone, voice like ice):
"Speak."
Dave (gruff but triumphant):
"Mainland's ours again. Bad boy's men… broken. Some won't see daylight again. And every other gang has signed silence. They know now—your personal life is untouchable. Anyone dares cross the line again, they lose their crown… and their pulse."
There was a pause. Adam glanced down at Snowflake. Her lashes fluttered gently in sleep. The softest human in a world so cruel.
Adam (quiet, like a vow):
"Good. No one touches what's mine again."
His voice wasn't loud.
But it shook something deep in the air—like the calm before a storm that has already destroyed and is now rebuilding.
He ended the call, placed the phone aside, and leaned closer—his other hand still trapped in hers.
He whispered in her sleeping ear, a breath softer than the wind—
"You don't know it yet, Snowflake… but you just changed the heart of a man no one believed had one."
The room was quiet, sunrays sneaking through the half-drawn blinds, painting golden lines across the sheets. Time had blurred itself into stillness.
Adam, head tilted back against the wall, had fallen asleep—his body exhausted from the night of chaos, but his hand still gently tangled with hers.
Suddenly—
A soft trembling whisper.
"Adam..."
A featherlike grip tightened around his little finger.
His eyes snapped open—sharp, alert—but softened the moment they landed on her.
Snowflake lay there, wincing as the nurse gently worked on her bandage. She hadn't meant to wake him. But pain had escaped her lips unintentionally. Her fingers curled tighter around his.
Nurse (gently):
"Almost done, sweetheart. You're braver than you think."
Adam leaned in, his voice a low whisper only she could hear:
"You called me..."
A pause.
"I'm right here, Snowflake."
She looked at him, eyes heavy from sleep and meds, but there was a glimmer of trust, of comfort.
The nurse finished and smiled.
"Bandage changed. She's doing much better. All set for discharge, sir."
Adam gave a nod, standing tall once again. The mafia mask slipped back on—but his eyes, when they turned to Snowflake, were still tender.
He turned to the nurse.
"Send the paperwork to me. I'll handle everything."
Then to Snowflake, he crouched to her level, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen on her cheek.
"Ready to leave this place, troublemaker?"
A hint of a smile touched his lips.
She blinked slowly, trying to sit up, lips forming a soft smile of her own.
"Only if you're taking me."
The hospital corridor was quiet, echoing only the soft squeak of her teddy bear slippers as she walked beside him.
Snowflake was wrapped in the comfort of an oversized t-shirt and loose shorts, her hair tied in a lazy bun, skin still pale but glowing under the soft sunlight filtering through the glass walls. The clothes—new, cottony-soft, and smelling faintly of lavender—had been carefully picked by Adam himself. The teddy slippers? His personal touch.
She looked up at him as they walked.
"Teddy bears?" she teased softly.
"Seemed fitting," Adam smirked.
"You bite like one but still manage to look innocent."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away.
Adam held her by the waist, not possessively, but protectively—like she was porcelain, and the world was made of thorns. In his other arm, he carried her discharge papers, meds, and her clutch. A bodyguard? No. A man madly in love who didn't know how to say it yet.
Once outside, the car door was already open—no guards this time, no loud engines, just quiet, calm, and the soft breeze of evening.
Inside the car, she sipped her favourite apple juice, and he drove slow—one hand on the wheel, the other resting near her seat in case she needed anything.
And then, he spoke, voice low and sincere:
"Snowflake..."
He looked at her briefly, then back to the road.
"Would you mind if... I took you to my place? Just for a few days. I want you somewhere safe... somewhere I can see you, without worrying every second."
His tone was gentle, but his fingers had tensed slightly on the wheel. It wasn't a command. It was a plea.
She tilted her head, lips curling into a mischievous smirk as she took another sip of her apple juice, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make him glance her way.
"Hmm..." she began, voice sweet and teasing, "so Mr. Adam Smith wants me in his house... that too willingly?"
She pretended to be scandalized, placing a hand dramatically over her chest.
"Tch tch… what would people say?"
Adam's jaw clenched lightly, eyes fixed on the road, but the faintest tint of crimson bloomed on his ears.
"Snowflake…" he warned gently, but the corners of his lips betrayed him, twitching upward.
She leaned closer, eyes sparkling.
"Tell me honestly… is this part of some plan to keep me close forever?"
Then with a mock pout, "Because I must admit… teddy bear slippers and apple juice are very convincing bribes."
Adam let out a low chuckle—one of those rare ones that made even the air feel lighter.
"I'll take that as a yes then?" he asked, voice still warm from laughter.
She didn't reply right away, just leaned back into the seat, eyes watching the road ahead with a soft smile.
"Only if you promise pancakes tomorrow morning," she finally whispered.
He smiled wide, a genuine, heart-skipping smile.
"You got it, Snowflake. Pancakes... and the world if you ask for it."
As the sleek car glided through the mansion gates, the grand black doors creaked open like the entrance to a fairytale… with a name etched in gold:
"ADAM'S."
Snowflake's breath hitched.
The driveway stretched like a welcome carpet, lined with sunflowers standing tall and proud, their golden faces basking in the gentle sunset glow.
Crisanthemums of every shade—violet, peach, white, crimson—spilled across the borders like nature's confetti.
The soft hiss of sprinklers filled the air, dew-kissing every petal and blade of grass.
She leaned against the car window, eyes wide, lips parting into a stunned smile.
"This… this looks like a dream," she whispered, barely audible.
Adam watched her silently, taking in her wonder like it was his favorite view.
As the car came to a halt, Dave stepped forward, all prim and proper, though his eyes betrayed a quiet excitement.
Two tall, statuesque boys, one with icy blue eyes, the other with warm brown, stood at attention. Their matching black suits and silver pins marked them as Adam's elite circle.
The two lady helpers, dressed in soft pastels, hurried forward with warm towels and water bottles, as if Snowflake were royalty arriving at her palace.
But what caught her off-guard the most—
everyone's eyes weren't on Adam…
They were on her.
Waiting. Eager. Impatient.
Dave smirked playfully.
"Took you long enough, boss. We thought the queen changed her mind."
The brown-eyed boy whispered to the blue-eyed one, "She's even prettier in real life…"
The blue-eyed one elbowed him, whispering back, "Shut up, she'll hear."
Adam stepped out first, came around, and opened the door for her with a silent gesture.
She stepped out slowly, teddy bear slippers and all—
The queen had arrived.
Snowflake stood still for a second, her laughter still bubbling in her chest—light, carefree, musical.
The blue-eyed boy couldn't help but whisper, "Boss is blushing. Is this real life?"
Dave raised an eyebrow, speechless, for once.
The helpers stood frozen mid-step, glancing between Snowflake and Adam as if watching the most unexpected plot twist unfold.
Adam didn't look up—his eyes fixed on the ground, lips pursed to hide the hint of a smile he didn't know how to control.
His cheeks, usually as cold and sharp as his authority, were now unmistakably rosy red.
Snowflake noticed.
Her laughter softened, her gaze tender as she watched him.
Adam cleared his throat, then leaned in just a bit and whispered, "Enough with your army of admirers."
He gently took her hand, warm and careful, his voice low and soft now.
"Come. I'll show you your room…"
Without waiting for approval from his audience, he walked forward—still holding her hand—guiding her inside like she belonged.
And maybe, just maybe,
she did.
Snowflake stepped inside, her eyes widening like a child entering a fairytale.
The soft scent of vanilla and roses lingered in the air.
Her feet sunk gently into the fluffy white carpet, and the room… it felt like it had been made for her heart.
Pastel pink and sage green painted the walls in tender harmony, wrapped in sunlight filtering through sheer cream curtains.
A canopy bed stood in the center—draped in light lace, sprinkled with plushies of every shape and size. From sleepy pandas to little penguins, a giant cloud-shaped one rested right at the headboard.
On the side table, a glass jar of colorful toffees caught her eye. Another bowl with choco-chip cookies.
And on the far shelf, a tiny hand-written card leaned against a snow globe:
"For Snowflake. Safe, warm, and home."
She turned slowly to Adam—her eyes shimmering.
"You… did this?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the wall instead of her.
"I didn't know what you like... so I asked people to find out."
She walked to the bed, sat slowly, and picked up a plush bunny.
"It's perfect," she whispered.
He finally looked at her—and for the first time, she saw it.
Not just the mafia boss.
But a man,
learning to care softly.
Snowflake turned to Adam with a cheeky grin and raised eyebrow.
"Out, mister. I need a long, warm shower and no one's watching this show."
She pointed dramatically toward the door.
Adam smirked, putting his hands up in surrender.
"Alright, alright. Your Highness needs her royal bath. I'll be in the next room—suffering in silence."
She laughed and shut the door behind him.
Moments later, the sound of water echoed through the walls… and her voice followed.
She was humming… no, wait… singing—completely off tune, completely carefree.
The lyrics were playful, her laughter bouncing off the tiles as she splashed around, probably dancing too.
In the room next door, Adam sat on the edge of his bed, one hand resting on his face, a hopeless smile pulling at his lips.
"She's something else..." he mumbled to himself.
For the next hour, every muffled giggle, every note she hit (or missed), became music in his world.
And though he didn't say it out loud, one thought ran clear in his mind:
"This mansion's never been this alive."