After the dust settled in Los Angeles, Leonardo found himself in unfamiliar territory: stillness. The Toretto house was silent. Brian had vanished. Dom had gone to ground. Letty, Leon, and Mia had retreated from the public eye.
It was time for Leonardo to disappear, too. Not as an escape—but to give the world, and himself, room to breathe.
He stood at the private hangar outside LAX, dressed in simple dark jeans and a leather jacket. Koko waited beside the jet, an electronic clipboard in hand.
"All shipments are rerouting automatically through Alfred's system. Eastern Europe, the Gulf, and Argentina are smooth. Your new Miami condo is already secured—ocean view, helipad, and the car elevator works."
Leonardo smirked. "How generous."
Koko looked over the top of her sunglasses. "And Brian? What do you plan to do when you see him again?"
"Race him."
She grinned. "Naturally."
The East Coast hit different. Miami was sun-soaked, sharp-edged, and fast in a way that had nothing to do with speedometers. It was a blur of bass-heavy clubs, pastel buildings, and ocean spray.
Leonardo drove a charcoal-gray Nissan Skyline R34—stock-looking, but quietly tuned to perfection. It was one of several he'd stashed in various cities under aliases. No decals, no neon, just clean power.
He kept a low profile. No public appearances, no business headlines. He gave Alfred full control over the company's operations during his absence and let Koko run Aegis Tactical like a shadow empire.
He drove, tuned, observed, and waited.
Then, one evening, it happened.
The underground Miami scene was alive. Neon lit the night in pulses, dancing off chrome and carbon fiber. Leonardo leaned against his Skyline in a closed dockyard where a local meet was heating up.
A crowd began to shift.
He heard it before he saw it: the rumble of a modified engine, smooth and hungry. The car that pulled into the lot was a silver Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder. The crowd parted.
Brian O'Conner.
Leonardo folded his arms.
Brian stepped out, looking looser than the last time they'd seen each other, but still sharp-eyed. He wore a simple tank, board shorts, and old racing sneakers. The crowd greeted him with nods and daps.
Leonardo approached casually.
Brian turned, noticed him. His eyes widened.
"You?"
Leonardo grinned. "Told you it wasn't the end."
Brian laughed, walking over. "What the hell are you doing here? Thought you were LA through and through."
"Needed a vacation. East coast seemed chill."
Brian leaned back against his car, shaking his head. "You always show up when things get weird."
"Says the guy who turned in his badge and still manages to walk like a cop."
Brian chuckled. "Race?"
Leonardo nodded. "Thought you'd never ask."
They lined up side-by-side on a blocked-off bridge just outside the city. Locals gathered in a wide arc. Koko watched from a distance, leaning on her own rental—a bulletproof matte-blue G-Wagon she had "borrowed permanently" from a failed arms dealer.
Brian revved his Spyder. Leonardo rolled his neck and tapped his steering wheel twice.
Three honks.
Tires screamed.
They were off.
The wind was humid and thick, but the Skyline cut through it like a knife. Leonardo didn't go full throttle. Not yet. He wanted to feel the rhythm, watch Brian work.
Brian stayed just ahead for the first quarter-mile. His lines were tight. Reflexes on point.
Leonardo smiled.
Then he shifted.
Nitrous hissed. The Skyline surged forward.
The Spyder fell behind—but just barely. Brian kept the pressure, pushing harder than Leonardo expected.
The finish line appeared in a blur of headlights and shadows.
Leonardo crossed first.
By half a hood.
They coasted to a stop at the far end of the bridge.
Brian laughed, shaking his head. "Damn, man. You always pull something out of nowhere."
Leonardo shrugged. "It's a habit."
They parked at a diner just outside the city after the race, the ocean breeze sweeping in from the west.
Over coffee and burgers, Brian finally asked, "Seriously—who are you, man? You never explained. You're not just some gearhead."
Leonardo tilted his cup. "Maybe one day I'll tell you. For now... let's just say I'm someone who likes to stay off the radar."
Brian nodded slowly. "That sounds familiar."
They ate in silence for a while before Brian said, "Things are changing, Leo. Cops, feds, they're crawling all over the scene. Something's brewing."
Leonardo didn't react outwardly, but he filed the words away.
A storm was coming.
And he would be ready.