Putting on a "mask" and forging a new identity—yeah, that kind of trick is incredibly useful for someone in Luca's line of work. The big boss of the Genovese family plays it the same way: Fat Tony is the public face, but there's always someone else lurking behind the curtain. Multiple identities mean multiple layers of safety, and for people like them, that's everything.
Ramon did exactly that. By hiding behind the name "Braga," he managed to fool law enforcement for years, staying completely off their radar. In the original storyline, if it weren't for Dom and Brian stepping in and messing things up, that identity probably would've held together indefinitely. The FBI and local police were all chasing shadows—obsessed with "Braga"—while the real man, Ramon, walked around practically invisible.
Luca had to admit, the skill was tempting. But the moment he saw the requirement—close friendship—he already knew this wasn't going to be easy. Ramon was the paranoid type. Once a driver outlived their usefulness, he got rid of them. No hesitation. No loose ends. Even people like Giselle weren't safe. So how was Luca, an outsider, supposed to build that kind of trust?
Yeah… not happening.
Better to bet on Giselle.
After all, she was the one who helped Ramon build that fake identity in the first place, providing technical support and logistics that allowed "Braga" to exist as a believable public figure. If Luca could bring her onto his side, building a disguise system of his own wouldn't be that hard.
Decision made, Luca stuck to the original plan.
Giselle, still a little puzzled, tilted her head and asked, "Want me to introduce you? I'll vouch for you—Ramon would definitely be interested in working with you."
Luca chuckled. "You trust me that much?"
"I just don't want things to get ugly." Giselle reached up and gently brushed his cheek, her voice soft. "The Delana family and Ramon have a bad history. He teamed up with the French crews and some Black gangs to push the Mafia out of the L.A. drug scene. The Delana family couldn't fight back… but you? That's a different story. If it's you, Ramon might be willing to compromise. You two could open up the East Coast together."
Luca could hear it in her tone—concern. She was stuck in the middle and didn't want a war breaking out.
Sure, cooperation would make a lot of money.
But Luca just shook his head.
"I don't deal drugs."
Giselle froze for a second.
Luca continued, calm and steady. "You checked my background. Did you find anything about me running drugs?"
She snapped back to reality. "...No. I just assumed—"
"Let's not go there," Luca cut in. "I'm not interested in Ramon's business, and he shouldn't be thinking about the East Coast either. I'd rather keep things between us… simple."
Giselle met his gaze, her eyes curving into a faint smile, drawn in by the quiet intensity there.
"Luca… your eyes are beautiful. Clear… deep… like a night sky."
"You like them?"
"What do you think?"
This time, she didn't hesitate. She leaned in and kissed him.
Meanwhile, over at the LAPD, Vincent and Jack had just returned.
The operation had been a complete bust. Dozens of officers deployed, full setup, and in the end—nothing. Not a single arrest. Vincent already knew what was coming: the sideways looks, the sarcastic remarks, the quiet gossip behind his back.
Jack wasn't feeling great either. First day of training, and this happens? Not exactly the best start.
"When we run into the other units," Vincent said firmly, "you don't say a word about what happened today. I don't want this turning into locker room gossip."
Jack straightened up immediately. "Yes, sir!"
Vincent gave a small nod. "You did fine today. You passed. You're staying with my team." He gestured. "Come on, I'll walk you through how things work in Major Crimes."
The LAPD had multiple divisions—Major Crimes, Narcotics, CID—but Major Crimes was the big league. The place every ambitious cop wanted to be.
"Narcotics used to be solid," Vincent continued as they walked. "But after Harris got taken out by the Russians… things got messy. Guy was dirty, but he knew how to handle big traffickers. Now the whole unit's off-balance."
He paused, then added, "Major Crimes has two teams right now. Mine… and Dudley Smith's."
Jack had heard of him. Veteran cop. Old-school. The kind of guy you didn't cross lightly.
"When I transferred, I had to choose," Jack admitted. "Between you and him."
"And you picked me," Vincent said, glancing over.
"I prefer your style. Straightforward. Efficient."
Vincent let out a quiet chuckle. "Good choice."
Then his tone hardened again. "One more thing—don't let Dudley hear about our arrangement with Luca. If he catches wind of that, he'll tear it apart and use it against us."
Jack didn't fully grasp all the politics yet, but he nodded anyway. "Understood."
"Good. Get some rest. Be at the briefing point early tomorrow. And if Luca contacts you—anything at all—you report it immediately."
"Yes, sir!"
Back at the race grounds, the results were in.
Dom took first place. Brian came in second.
Both earned their ticket into Braga's operation.
Step one of the infiltration plan—complete.
Next came the real game: running shipments, gathering intel, and feeding everything back to Luca, who would pass it along to the police. If everything lined up, they could bring Ramon down in one clean strike.
Simple plan.
Plenty of variables.
In the original timeline, Ramon ran tight operations. Every driver and every vehicle got thoroughly checked—no trackers, no loose ends. Routes were kept secret. The only way to find the drop-off was to follow the lead car across the border.
Luca would need a way to track them in real time.
Giselle definitely knew how.
Which meant… yeah. He was going to have to work for that information.
So this is what it comes down to… picking up girls for intel?
"Hold on—Braga wants to talk to me."
Giselle pulled back reluctantly, giving Luca one last look. "I'll come find you later."
She mimed a phone call, then turned and headed toward the newly recruited drivers.
Luca got back into his car and waited.
Half an hour later, she returned, a hint of apology on her face.
"Sorry. Looks like I'm tied up tonight. The French guys showed up to talk business with Ramon, and I need to sit in."
"The French?" Luca raised an eyebrow. "They're getting supply from Ramon now?"
"Partially," she said. "They're active in Hollywood."
"Hollywood…"
Luca's expression shifted slightly. Yeah, that tracked. Actors, producers, directors—plenty of money, plenty of excess. And in certain circles, things got… ugly. Not violent like gangsters—but in some ways, worse.
French crews, huh…
Maybe it was time to clean that up too.
Take out Braga, cut off the supply, and wipe out the French pipeline in one go—that should be enough for a title upgrade.
That night, Luca dropped Mathilda off in Beverly Hills, then headed straight to the L.A. family to dig up intel on the French crews.
For all their shortcomings, the L.A. family still had one thing going for them: connections. Years of it.
Milano, who also lived in Beverly Hills, brought the files directly to Luca's place.
"The leader's name is Pierce Patchett."
Inside the study, Milano handed over the documents and began walking him through everything. The French crew wasn't just dealing drugs—they were running prostitution rings, dabbling in blackmail, basically touching every dirty business they could get their hands on.
"Pierce runs a stable of girls," Milano said with a sneer. "Plastic surgery, styling—the works. Makes them look like Hollywood actresses. Then he uses them to lure in high-profile clients."
Milano's tone turned colder.
"After that? Photos. Evidence. Blackmail. Politicians, executives—you name it. Once they're compromised, they're his."
Luca flipped open the file and looked at the photo.
His pupils shrank slightly.
Yeah… this really was Los Angeles.
Rare cards everywhere.
[Character Card Discovered: Pierce Morehouse Patchett (Unlocked)]
[Rank: D]
[Source: L.A. Confidential]
[Skill: None]
[Bond: Stranger]
In the original story, Pierce was barely more than a footnote—a minor character. The real focus was on the cops and the corruption inside the LAPD.
Luca rubbed his forehead.
He'd already cleaned house in New York.
Now it looked like Los Angeles was next.
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