NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1: Secrets of the Night
That night, St. Petersburg wasn't just a city; it was a living entity pulsating with secrets. The full moon cast its light over the snow-laden streets, painting the scene with a dim glow, like a vignette from an oil painting. The sound of the cold wind played a mournful symphony, harmonizing with the faint crunch of footsteps on the snow—steps so rare they seemed more like whispers of ghosts than passersby.
On a snow-covered bridge, Dimitri leaned against the cold iron railing, staring down at the frozen river below. The biting air nipped at his face, but he hardly noticed. His mind was preoccupied with the events of the café.
"Irina…" he muttered softly, as if her name carried a unique enchantment.
Dimitri wasn't just a man—he was a torn page from an ancient novel filled with mystery and passion. His face reflected a life scarred by unseen battles, some etched on his features, others buried deep within. Yet, he wasn't broken. He knew how to wield his pain as a weapon and his enigma as a magnet for others.
The memories replayed in his mind: the way Irina had looked at him, the strange tension between them, and her seemingly simple yet profoundly layered words.
"Who are you?" she had asked, unaware that the same question had haunted him his entire life.
Elsewhere in the city, Irina sat in her modest living room. Her window overlooked a dark street, where snow fell relentlessly. The space was warm despite its simplicity, lined with books and magazines scattered across every corner.
Sipping a cup of tea, she found her thoughts drifting back to the mysterious man at the café.
"What does he want from me?" she wondered aloud, gazing at her reflection in the frosted glass. There was something undeniably different about him, something that made her heart race in an unfamiliar way.
Raising the cup for another sip, she tried to dismiss the flood of thoughts—but she couldn't.
Irina (whispering to herself): "His eyes… there was something I can't quite explain."
Irina was a woman who knew what she wanted in life. Strong and resilient, she carried an old wound that still bled silently within her. For years, she had lived alone, finding solace between the pages of books and steering clear of relationships that might hurt her. But she hadn't anticipated someone like Dimitri to enter her world and turn it upside down.
As she sank deeper into her thoughts, her phone rang suddenly. The number was unknown. Hesitant, she answered.
Irina (in a cautious voice): "Hello?"
Dimitri (in a deep, calm tone): "Forgive the intrusion. I thought you might want an answer to your question."
She froze. His voice was unmistakable, yet she hadn't expected him to call.
Irina: "How did you get my number?"
Dimitri: "I have my ways. But that's not important. What matters is that you wanted to know who I am."
Irina (defensively): "I didn't say that directly."
Dimitri (with a faint smile in his voice): "But your eyes did."
A brief silence followed. Irina felt a mix of anger and curiosity.
Irina: "What do you want from me?"
Dimitri: "Perhaps I just wanted to see you again. Tomorrow, same place, 7 PM."
Before she could respond, the line went dead.
Irina placed her phone down slowly, her breathing quickening, a strange warmth spreading through her body. Something in his voice unsettled her and drew her in simultaneously.
Meanwhile, Dimitri ended the call, standing in his dimly lit room. The walls were covered with photographs and handwritten notes, all pointing to one person: Irina.
Dimitri (to himself): "I won't let you slip away. You're mine, whether you know it or not."
That night, Irina tried to calm her restless mind as she drifted to sleep, though she couldn't ignore the feeling that something extraordinary awaited her. As for Dimitri, he stood by his window, watching the city under the moonlight, meticulously planning his next move.
Their first encounter was only the beginning. The night held countless secrets, and Dimitri knew how to exploit each one to his advantage.