Behind Ramon lies a corrupt system that runs through the entire police department, stretching into the judicial system and the prosecutor's office, exposing layer after layer of buried scandals.
Of course, in Los Angeles, that's hardly shocking—it's practically part of the city's ecosystem. Ramon's empire didn't grow this large on hustle alone; it had plenty of "support" from people who preferred their hands to stay clean.
New York used to be just as bad. A few years ago, things improved after a major crackdown on drugs—but that operation didn't come from local authorities. It came straight from Washington. Pressure from the White House, combined with Luca's behind-the-scenes push, tipped the scales and crushed the bloated corruption network that had taken root there.
Los Angeles, however, sits just a stone's throw from Mexico, and no such federal hammer ever came down. Winning a drug war here? That's a different beast entirely—especially without outside support.
But Luca isn't who he used to be. His reach is wider now, his resources deeper, and just the title of union branch president is enough to make detectives at Vincennes's level think twice before brushing him off.
At this moment, when Luca revealed that "Braga" was a fake, a wave of shock rippled through the crowd. Even Vincent hadn't been tipped off beforehand.
Vincent walked over to the body, crouched down, and checked it carefully—dead as a doornail. He turned back, staring at Luca like he'd just heard the punchline to a very bad joke.
"Isn't this guy Braga?"
For a second, he even forgot to ask who the hell the guy actually was.
Meanwhile, the narcotics officer—Vincennes—felt like his heart was riding a roller coaster. If Braga had died right in front of him, the blame would've landed squarely on his head. But now? A fake had taken the bullet.
"Then who is that?" he demanded.
Luca smiled faintly and looked at Ramon. "That's something Mr. Ramon should explain. Tonight's deal was supposed to be conducted by Braga himself, and since Ramon invited him, he should know who's real and who's just playing dress-up."
A chill ran straight down Ramon's spine. Why was Luca so certain it was a decoy?
Forcing himself to stay calm, he shot back, "Luca, that is the real Braga. You killed someone in front of the police and now you're trying to talk your way out of it?"
Vincennes immediately backed him up. "Luca, you've interfered with police operations multiple times, and now there's a dead body on the ground. Don't think your title as union president makes you untouchable."
Luca let out a short, cold laugh. "Who saw me kill anyone? Officer Vincennes, throwing accusations around like that doesn't suit you. I was just doing you a favor—pointing out you arrested the wrong man. As head of narcotics operation, you should understand how important Braga is. So tell me, how are you going to explain this mess to your superiors?"
Then he turned to Vincent. "Officer Vincent, didn't you already get Braga's fingerprints? The results aren't back yet, right? Run the comparison and you'll have your answer."
Jack—ever the eager rookie—jumped in without missing a beat. "The tech team's been working on it all day. If everything goes smoothly, we should have results tonight."
Ramon's expression tightened. When did that happen? Had they gotten his fingerprints—or just the decoy's?
Vincennes was clearly losing patience. "So what if we have fingerprints? That just makes things easier. Everyone here is coming back with me. Once the results are in, we proceed by the book—simple as that!"
He glanced at Vincent. "We don't need to fight each other over this. You chase your truck robbers, I handle my drug case. Same goal, different angles. We can sort it out back at the station."
Vincent almost laughed out loud.
You think I'm walking into that trap?
Outwardly, he kept a straight face, but internally he was already shaking his head. Once they stepped into the station, this whole situation would spiral completely out of his control. And more importantly—Brian and Toretto had been working with them. If they got hauled in as drug dealers, Luca wouldn't just let that slide.
Tonight, they either locked Braga down with solid evidence—or they didn't go back at all.
Vincent shot Luca a quick glance, then made his decision.
"No need to discuss anything," he said flatly. "I'm taking this case, and everyone here falls under my jurisdiction. Brian, Toretto—and Ramon. Don't even think about taking any of them."
He lifted a hand, and officers from the Major Crimes Unit immediately moved into position, flipping the situation on its head and surrounding the narcotics team instead.
The narcotics officers exchanged confused looks. This was a first—being blocked mid-operation by their own colleagues.
So what now?
The narcotics team wanted to take everyone away under the banner of drug enforcement. The Major Crimes Unit wanted to do the exact same thing—just under a different excuse. Both sides were playing their own game, and neither was being particularly subtle about it.
Off to the side, Brian and Toretto stood there, completely sidelined. At this point, they weren't even part of the conversation anymore—it had turned into a full-blown turf war between two police units.
Both of them instinctively looked toward Luca.
Luca, meanwhile, calmly checked his watch, then lifted his gaze toward Ramon's group. Giselle stood among them, her expression tense. She subtly pointed toward Ramon—barely noticeable unless you knew to look.
Luca gave the faintest nod, then turned to Jack. "Ask your tech team how much longer."
"Almost done," Jack replied quickly. "They've looped in Interpol's database too. Results should be coming any minute."
"Good." Luca looked back at Vincent, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Until then, I suggest everyone stays right where they are. None of us want the real Braga slipping away, right?"
Vincennes jaw tightened. In reality, he very much did want Braga to slip away—but saying that out loud would be career suicide.
Sometimes he really wished he could march into those back rooms and yell at the higher-ups hiding behind the curtain, living the high life while he dealt with this circus.
"Luca, I—"
Bang!
The shot cut him off mid-sentence.
One of Ramon's men dropped instantly, a clean shot to the head.
Another body hit the ground.
Vincent snapped his head toward Luca, eyes wide. Was this guy insane? Pulling something like this right in front of the police?
Even if it came from a sniper somewhere in the distance, Vincent's gut told him exactly whose hand was behind it.
Luca spoke calmly, like he was commenting on the weather. "Seems I'm not the only one who wants everyone to stay put. If you insist on leaving… I can't guarantee the next bullet won't find someone else."
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Faces changed. Tension spiked.
Ramon's expression turned downright ugly. If this dragged on any longer, his identity was going to come out—no question about it.
Fingerprints… how the hell did they get my fingerprints?
He ran through everything in his head, retracing every step. He'd approached Brian and Toretto, used them to move goods, then set them up to take the fall…
Wait.
Something clicked.
How did those two manage to wipe out more than a dozen of his men at the border that night—and walk away with the shipment? And more importantly, how did they get it all the way back to Los Angeles?
There were only two types of routes: legal and illegal.
If it was legal… then Brian and Toretto were working with the police. That would explain everything—the ambush, the deal tonight, all of it.
But if it was illegal… then that operation screamed gangland. People hacked to death with knives? Since when did police go medieval?
Which meant—
Ramon slowly lifted his head and locked eyes with Luca.
Did he… take the shipment?
So all of this—the setup, the deal, the police involvement—was aimed at him?
A mix of anger and disbelief twisted in his chest. He hadn't crossed Luca. Hadn't touched his trucks. They'd stayed in their own lanes.
So why go this far?
Taking a steady breath, Ramon forced a smile. "Mr. Greco, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I didn't touch your trucks—you've got the wrong guy. How about we both take a step back tonight?"
His tone sharpened slightly.
"The Major Crimes Unit is yours. The Narcotics Unit is mine. We've both shown our hands—no point pretending anymore. Let's call it even. That $60 million shipment? I don't want it. You can have it."
He thought that was more than enough of a concession.
Luca didn't even hesitate.
"Sure. No problem," he said lightly. "I'm not here to make trouble for you. I'm just looking for Braga. Let him stay, and you're free to go."
Ramon froze.
Braga is dead.
You had him shot in the head five minutes ago!
"For the last time," Ramon said, forcing a strained smile as he pointed at the corpse, "that is Braga. I can testify to that."
Luca shook his head. "I trust fingerprint analysis more."
That was the moment something snapped behind Ramon's eyes. The last trace of restraint disappeared, replaced by cold resolve.
Right then, Jack's phone rang.
He answered—and his face changed.
"The fingerprint results are in… It's Ramon. He is Braga."
Jack looked up.
Ramon didn't wait another second.
He drew his pistol in one smooth motion and shouted, "Move! Get to the cars!"
Jack yelled at the top of his lungs, "It's Ramon, he is Braga!!"
Everything exploded into chaos.
By now, Luca's disarmament effect had worn off. Gunfire erupted from all sides, bullets tearing through the night.
Ramon dove into a car and gunned the engine, leading his men in a desperate breakout through the crossfire.
Nearby, Luca and Vincent ducked behind a car for cover.
"Luca!" Vincent shouted over the gunfire. "Did you know all along Ramon was Braga?"
Luca flashed a small, unapologetic smile. "Sorry. Just figured it out."
Then he pulled out his gun, eyes locked onto the fleeing vehicle.
"But here's the real question," he added casually, "if I shoot Ramon right now… that counts as self-defense, doesn't it?"
Vincent's lips twitched.
So this was the plan all along.
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TN: Alright everyone, this is the final available chapter of this novel. Since the author has gone on an indefinite hiatus, I've decided to pick up a new project. It's a story about a guy who transmigrates into a powerful conglomerate family within the Boston Consortium. Go Check it out, the name is The Boston Consortium Playboy!