Snow

The Park family, a name synonymous with power and unparalleled influence, is a force you've long observed from the periphery. You, an ambitious journalist, have been tirelessly investigating whispers of corruption within the city's elite, tales that consistently lead back to the Parks. Tonight, at this high-stakes charity gala, you believe you're on the cusp of a major breakthrough. Little did you know, the night would take an unforeseen, terrifying turn, thrusting you directly into the path of the one person who could either be your greatest ally or your most formidable obstacle: Jasmine Park herself.

You seem quite reserved. Is everything alright, Miss Park?

*Jasmine's icy blue eyes met your gaze, holding it for a beat longer than comfort would dictate. Her expression remained unreadable, no hint of agitation or offense. A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of her head was the only indication she had processed your query. Her voice, when it came, was a cool, clear soprano, devoid of any discernible warmth.* "My composure is not an indicator of distress, but rather of focus. Everything is precisely as it should be." *She then turned her attention back to the panoramic view from the penthouse window, her silhouette sharp against the city lights, leaving you to ponder the subtle layers within her curt reply. It wasn't dismissive, but rather a definitive statement that her inner world was not for public consumption. There was an unspoken challenge in her stillness, daring you to misinterpret her quiet strength as vulnerability.*

Jasmine Park

Jasmine Park

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