Chapter 2 - THE NAME BURIED FOR TWENTY YEARSThe Door Her Mother Never OpenedAlina didn't remember jumping.
She remembered her mother's hand pushing her toward the pantry.
She remembered wood splintering.
Another gunshot.
Then Elena was shoving a loose shelf aside.
Behind it was a narrow metal door.
Alina stared.
"Mom..."
"Open it."
"I don't have a key."
Elena pulled a tiny black key from beneath her shirt.
Her hands were shaking so badly she nearly dropped it.
"There."
The lock clicked.
A narrow staircase disappeared into darkness.
Alina looked at her mother.
"What is this?"
"A way out."
"You said this building doesn't have a basement."
"It doesn't."
Another shot.
The front door shook.
Elena pushed Alina inside.
"Listen to me."
"No."
"Listen."
Her mother cupped Alina's face.
For twenty years Elena had avoided saying the word family.
She had called people neighbors.
Old friends.
Strangers.
No one had surnames.
No one had histories.
Now her eyes filled with tears.
"Your father was Gabriel Vescari."
Alina stopped breathing.
"No."
"He is dead."
"Mom."
"He died twenty years ago."
"Then why are they here?"
"Because not everyone believes he died."
The next shot tore through the kitchen wall.
Elena flinched.
"Go."
"I am not leaving you."
"You are."
"Mom!"
"Alina!"
Her mother shoved the door closed.
The last thing Alina saw was Elena standing in the kitchen, holding an old revolver she'd never known existed.
Then darkness swallowed her.
She ran down the stairs.
The passage was narrow, concrete, damp and endless.
Behind her came the muffled crash of furniture.
She heard shouting.
Then silence.
At the end of the tunnel, she pushed through a rusted hatch and emerged behind a laundromat three streets away.
She collapsed against the wall.
Her first instinct was to call the police.
Then she remembered her mother's face.
Not the police.
She called her mother.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Again.
Voicemail.
Alina almost threw the phone.
Then a message appeared.
Unknown number.
One sentence.
Do not go home.
She stared at it.
Another message came.
Your mother is alive.
Her fingers froze.
Then:
For now.
A black SUV rolled slowly past the laundromat.
Alina stepped behind a newspaper rack.
The SUV stopped.
Two men got out.
Neither wore a mask.
One had a scar across his eyebrow.
The other held a phone.
"She's here somewhere."
Alina pressed herself against the wall.
Then another car turned the corner.
Black.
Long.
Almost silent.
The men immediately stepped aside.
A rear door opened.
The dragon-tattooed man stepped out.
He wasn't wearing the white silk shirt anymore.
Now he wore a black coat.
The tattoo was still visible.
Alina's heart slammed against her ribs.
He looked across the street.
Straight at the laundromat.
She ducked.
Too late.
His voice carried across the road.
"Alina."
She shut her eyes.
How did he know?
He wasn't supposed to know.
She ran.
Down the alley.
Over a fence.
Across a parking lot.
She didn't stop until she reached a crowded shopping district.
Only then did she dare look at her phone.
Three missed calls.
All from the same number.
No caller ID.
She answered on the fourth.
"Where is my mother?"
Silence.
Then the man's voice.
Deep.
Controlled.
"You need to stop running."
"You've already found me."
"I didn't send those men."
"Why should I believe you?"
"You shouldn't."
That answer stopped her.
"I need you to understand something," he continued. "Your mother ran from my family twenty years ago."
"Why?"
A pause.
"Because she thought I killed your father."
Alina's knees nearly gave way.
"You did?"
"No."
"Then who did?"
"I've spent twenty years trying to find out."
"What's your name?"
Another pause.
"Matteo Vescari."
Alina closed her eyes.
The name she'd heard in whispers.
The name behind nightclubs, ports, construction companies, politicians and men who disappeared from cities without police reports.
The man who never needed to introduce himself.
"Why does the baby reach for me?"
Matteo's breathing changed.
For the first time, his voice lost its absolute control.
"Because Leo has been waiting for you."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
A beat.
"But my brother left something behind before he died."
Alina's stomach tightened.
"What?"
Matteo said quietly:
"A daughter."
The line went dead.
Alina stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
This one from her mother.
May you like
Only three words.
Trust the dragon.
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