No matter the season, nights in Los Angeles always run hotter than those in New York—and it's not just the weather. The engines are louder, the women are bolder, the drinks hit harder, and the people… well, the people are far less predictable.
This is Hollywood, after all—the entertainment capital of the world. With that many actors around, both professional and amateur, it's no surprise people here are very good at putting on a show.
Like right now.
The moment Luca stepped into view, everyone present delivered a masterclass in micro-expressions and body language.
Brian's face lit up instantly, then he let out a long breath. As long as the Dove of Peace had arrived, things weren't going completely off the rails tonight.
Toretto's tense shoulders loosened just a little. Luca's presence alone took the edge off.
And then there were the police.
The armed officers on both sides suddenly felt something shift—like their instincts had been quietly overridden. One by one, without even realizing it, they lowered their weapons. No hesitation. No resistance. Just… compliance.
Even the two Vincent and Vincennes—still mid-standoff—turned to look at Luca.
One of them, the narcotics officer, felt an odd sense of pressure. He didn't recognize Luca, but something about him made it impossible to ignore his presence.
"Who the hell are you?" he demanded, frowning.
"Luca," he replied with a faint smile, voice cool and measured. "President of the Teamster' Union Local 560. I heard Officer Vincent here helped recover my stolen cargo, so I figured I'd come take a look—see who's been messing with my property."
Union president?
The narcotics officer's heart skipped a beat. That wasn't just some random civilian title—anyone sitting in that chair had connections.
And that one sentence? It already revealed Luca's stance.
So… he's with Major Crimes?
The situation just got complicated.
"I know the union president here in Los Angeles," the officer said cautiously, "but I've never seen you before."
"Like i said, Local 560" Luca replied casually. "New Jersey."
"Doesn't matter where you're from. This is an active police investigation—leave immediately. Don't interfere."
His tone hardened as he turned and barked orders.
"Move in. Arrest Brian and Toretto. Bring them in for questioning."
But nothing happened.
Because Luca had already "disarmed" the entire scene.
Every officer—friend or foe—stood frozen, their earlier momentum completely gone. Some hesitated. Others simply didn't move at all.
The narcotics officer's eye twitched.
"What are you waiting for?!" he snapped. "Didn't you hear me? Take them down!"
"Did I say you could move?"
Luca spoke again, calm but absolute—and whatever fragile resolve the officers had gathered instantly collapsed.
"I'll say this once," Luca continued, his gaze sweeping across the crowd before settling on Ramon. "Without my say-so, nobody is taking Brian and Toretto anywhere tonight."
Ramon felt it the moment those eyes landed on him.
Like being locked onto by a predator.
A lion.
Apex.
He wasn't like Vincennes—the kind of cop chasing headlines and reputation. Ramon knew exactly who Luca is: a Mafia boss with reach across the entire East Coast.
But why was he here?
Over a truck robbery?
Brian and Toretto stealing his trucks?
If anything, Luca should be handing them over, not protecting them.
The narcotics officer seemed to arrive at the same conclusion. His tone softened slightly.
"Luca, we fully support your investigation into the truck robbery. If these two are responsible, hand them over to me. I'll make sure you get justice."
"Oh?" Luca's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "And what kind of 'justice' are you offering?"
"They're involved in drug trafficking as well—large-scale. Once I wrap up the narcotics case, I'll look into your robbery. You'll get a full explanation."
He glanced at the other Vincent, clearly thinking: If Luca can work with Major Crimes, he can work with us too.
"These two criminals are guilty on multiple counts," he continued confidently. "If they want leniency, they'll confess. Luca, trust me—I'll handle this cleanly. I'll recover your losses. That's my promise."
The other Vincent nearly laughed out loud.
This guy really knew how to switch sides mid-sentence—but had he seriously not realized Brian and Toretto were Luca's people?
Did he think Luca showed up for a missing truck?
Luca himself found it mildly amusing.
Originally, tonight would've been simple—Vincent steps in, arrests Ramon, done. But Ramon had dragged in Narcotics, throwing everything off-script.
Now?
Anything could happen.
But one thing was certain.
Tonight… was still under Luca's control.
"Vincennes," Luca said lightly, "do you even know who I'm here to arrest tonight?"
The narcotics officer paused.
Something felt off.
He turned toward the "Braga" standing nearby—the elderly double Ramon had brought.
And then—
"We're here for Braga," Luca continued. "Compared to him, what are Brian and Toretto? You're in Narcotics—don't tell me you can't tell what actually matters."
The officer's expression darkened.
He didn't know Ramon was Braga—but he did know Braga had deep ties to the higher-ups. Untouchable. Even if arrested, he'd walk out sooner or later.
"I never said I wouldn't arrest anyone," he shot back. "Everyone involved tonight is coming in. I'll sort it out at the station. Now move aside—you're obstructing an investigation."
He gestured sharply.
"Take him."
The officers moved to grab the "Braga" double.
Ramon followed quietly behind, playing his part—head lowered, posture cooperative—while inwardly exhaling in relief.
This worked.
With Narcotics backing him, nothing could go wrong tonight. Worst case? A brief stay at the station, then he'd walk right out—with the drugs eventually flowing back into his hands.
Sure, the higher-ups would skim their cut.
But compared to what Brian and Toretto almost cost him?
Still a win.
And then—
Bang!.
A sharp, unmistakable sound split the air.
Something warm splattered across Ramon's face.
He froze.
Slowly, stiffly, he looked up.
The man in front of him—the so-called "Braga"—now had a clean hole through his skull.
A sniper round.
Perfect shot.
Dropped instantly.
The entire scene went dead silent for half a second… then erupted.
Officers scrambled for cover. Vincennes, used to comfort more than chaos, nearly duck behind a vehicle, shouting orders as panic crept into his voice.
And from behind him, calm as ever—
Luca spoke again.
"Officer Vincennes… did I say you could take him away?"
A beat.
Then, almost casually:
"Oh, and one more thing—that wasn't Braga. The real Braga is still here."
He let the words hang for just a moment.
"Go on," Luca added, a faint smile forming. "Let's take a guess. Which one of you is the real Braga?"
Silence.
Every officer froze.
Vincennes stared, confusion written all over his face.
Wait—what?
If that wasn't Braga…
Then who—
The most nervous person on site was undoubtedly Ramon.
Ramon felt his entire body go cold.
Slowly, mechanically, he turned his head.
And met Luca's eyes.
Smiling.
Knowing.
Like every secret he'd ever buried had just been dragged out into the open.
…My cover's blown.
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