Chapter 1
The Dragona
Lina
“You ever do CrossFit?” Andrew asks from across the table.
“I, uh, no,” I stammer, taking a sip of water to stall.
“You should try it. Builds discipline,” he mentions.
The scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling garlic wafts through the open air, mingling with the soft hum of distant laughter and clinking glasses. Twinkling string lights crisscross above the patio, creating a warm glow that makes everything magical.
Well… everything except this date.
This is supposed to be a fresh start.
I’m finally putting myself out there after the wreck my last relationship was. I’m finally giving a chance to another man even though the last one—namely Max—gives me no reason to do that.
Max was my ex-boyfriend, my high school sweetheart, and the man I believed was my first and last true love.
We had been dating for eight years, and it felt like a dream. We were engaged, ready to be married soon, and I was sure that we’d spend the rest of our lives together.
But, life had different plans.
While I only had eyes for Max, he was busy screwing the other most important person to me—my childhood best friend, Sophie. The three of us had grown up together, and she was supposed to be my maid of honor. But, when I found out, my whole world fell apart.
In one fell swoop, I lost both the love of my life, and my best friend.
He said it was a mistake, but surely screwing someone ten times can’t be a mistake.
He begged to fix things, for me to take him back. And I almost did. But then, I found out he was still talking to her, and I knew there was no changing this man.
Fast forward, him and that girl began dating, and within six months, they were engaged.
I was destroyed. I had hit my rock bottom.
The man I thought was the love of my life turned out to be a cheating liar. I had no motivation to go on with my life, to go to work every day at a place where no one valued me. And now, I had to get back out there and find someone else?
It took everything for me to get to this point—to get to this date.
And God, was the man sitting across from me making me regret it.
I shake my thoughts away, bringing my focus back to him.
“So, that’s when my trainer at the gym told me I need to increase my protein intake.” He shook his head.
How do all his conversations end with him at the gym?
I smooth my blouse and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying my best to sound interested in his routine as I nod my head vehemently. Andrew—or was it Aaron? No, definitely Andrew—takes a bite of his lasagna.
“Are you enjoying your food?” he asks, noticing me dazing in and out.
“Yeah, of course, this is one of my favorite places,” I reply, offering a polite smile.
The first fifteen minutes were decent. He talked about his job at a marketing firm, his hobbies, and a recent trip to Bali. But as the minutes tick by, my initial interest wanes. He doesn’t ask much about me—barely anything, actually—and his eyes dart to his phone more often than I’d like.
“So,” I venture, trying to steer the conversation back, “what made you choose this place for dinner?”
He shrugs, sipping his wine. “It’s close to my gym. Easy to get to.”
Of course, I should have bet on it.
I blink, unsure how to respond.
By the time the desserts arrive, I’m forcing myself to stay. He’s attractive, physically, but his personality is worse than a stale piece of bread. Maybe he’s just nervous. Maybe he’ll warm up.
“Anyway,” Andrew continues, cutting into his steak, “I don’t usually do things like this, but my assistant thought I should... you know, get out there more.”
I bite back the urge to sigh.
His assistant. Of course.
As I dig out a bite of the lasagna onto my fork, a sudden commotion pulls my attention to the street. Raised voices echo, sharp and angry, cutting through the peaceful ambiance.
“What’s that?” I mutter, glancing around to find the source of these sounds.
Andrew barely looks up from his plate. “Probably just some drunken idiots. Ignore it.”
I am not the only one to notice the disruption though; everyone else in the restaurant also turns to look out the window.
The air shifts—something dark and electric crackles in the atmosphere. My fingers tighten around the fork as the shouting escalates, joined by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.
A scream pierces and chaos erupts in the restaurant.
Tall men clad in black charge into the restaurant’s patio, shouting and brandishing weapons. I barely have time to process what’s happening before gunshots ring out.
“Get down!” someone yells.
Instinct takes over, and I drop to the ground, crawling under the table. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat.
The acrid scent of gunpowder fills the air, mingling with the metallic tang of fear.
Andrew decides to scooch down next to me under the table.
“What the heck is this place?” he cries, fear laced in his voice.
I was hoping he’d be a gentleman and protect me, but I guess this is the final nail in the coffin of this date.
I peek out from under the tablecloth, my breath hitching as I see men in suits with guns moving through the chaos. They’re tall and look highly intimidating—their eyes dark with anger.
Most of the people evacuate the restaurant while the others try and hide behind the bar and in the back.
It’s two groups, each facing off against the other. One of them, dressed in a dark suit with a dragon-like design on the back of his jacket, seems more controlled, more tactical. There’s about ten of them, and almost double of the other.
The other gang is scrappier and more frantic. While they do have more people on their side, they seem to have drawn the shorter straw. They’re slower, not as good at putting up a fight as the other gang. They’re also more… scared—as if they already know they can’t beat them.
How do I know this?
Because not a single man from their opposing gang is hiding behind cover.
In fact, they’re barely taking cover. But the other gang has at least seven men in my line of sight that I see taking safety.
There are two behind a table, and three that ran across the street, away from the chaos.
And then two ran down the sidewalk and into an alley.
Still, although there’s more of them, the men from the other gang are far more tactical in their approach. They’re far more strategic, not wasting their bullets and when they do, making the shot.
I squint to take a closer look to read what’s written on their jackets.
The Dragona Gang.
The name hits me like a punch to the gut. I’ve heard whispers of them before—powerful, ruthless, unstoppable.
They’re one of the biggest names in the underworld that runs the streets at night in this town. No one has been able to stand up against them and their might, but for them to be here right now feels surreal.
“What the hell is going on?” I whisper, clutching the table leg for support.
“If we get out of here alive, I could sponsor you for my gym. But please, just get me out of here alive,” Andrew begs me as tears run down his face.
He watches closely, and then he pulls a real shallow move.
In fact, he chooses this moment to prove his true character. Instead of helping me, he bolts, knocking over a chair in his rush to escape.
“Seriously!” I cry out, but he doesn’t even glance back. I poke my head out a little to curse at him, but then a loud bang sends me scrambling further under the table.
“Screw you, Aaron! Andrew! Whatever your name is!” I yell but the gunshots subdue my screams.
How did I get stuck in a mess like this?
The fight begins to intensify, and I can see the men inching closer to where I am. Suddenly, two of them get into a tussle, and something drops out of one of the men's pockets. I can tell he isn’t a Dragona man because he isn't wearing the jacket, while the other one is.
I narrow my eyes, trying to see what it is, but I barely can. All I can make out is that it’s black and metallic.
I don’t have to do that for long though because one of the men accidentally kicks the item towards me. I take a deep breath, reaching my hand out to pick it up, praying it’s a gun I can use for my safety, only to see that it’s a flash drive.
The man sees me picking it up and shouts at me instantly. “Hey! Give that back.”
But, before he can do anything, the Dragona man knocks him down, shooting him in his leg. I quickly pocket the flash drive against my better judgement, not knowing what else to do with it in the chaos of the moment.
I build the courage to look around again, and see one of the men with an AK-47 tucked away in his hands.
He has neatly combed sandy-blonde hair and golden-brown eyes, and he’s wearing the same Dragona jacket.
He doesn’t seem like he’s a part of a gang. Instead, he seems like one of those bratty rich boys.
Just then, I see that there’s a clear path straight ahead that I can use to escape. There are men fighting on either side, but how much could they possibly notice someone as insignificant as me?
I take a deep breath and bolt out, but within taking a few steps away from the table cover, a stray bullet makes its way past my arm.
The pain is searing, hot, and immediate, and I bite down on a scream, but it slips out anyway.
“Ahh!” I scream and fall to the side, gripping onto my arm for dear life.
Fuck, fuck!
And then, everything slows. The pain is piercing, like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and it takes over my whole body. My head spins, and I begin to feel faint, my heart beating hard against my chest.
Trying to stay awake, I see the men emerge, their faces obscured by masks. They move with precision, their guns trained on their targets as they take down members of the opposing gang one by one.
“Damn it, Hunter, show some control! You shot a civilian there!” one of the men yells to his comrade.
The shooter turns to look at me, his piercing steel-blue eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, I forget to breathe as his intense stare burns through me.