After half an hour.
Inside the club bar, Jimmy looked at the young man in front of him and asked in surprise, "You have a commercial driver's license too?"
Brian answered confidently, "I have a Class A commercial driver's license. I can handle any truck. I used to drive a school bus in Los Angeles."
"A school bus?" Jimmy nodded thoughtfully.
He looked capable. There weren't many guys in the family who could drive heavy trucks. On top of that, Brian had a clean background and no criminal record. He looked like a young man fresh into the workforce, eager to make money.
Perfect workhorse material.
The more Jimmy thought about it, the more satisfied he became. After discussing salary and job responsibilities, he decided on the spot to hire Brian.
Of course, everything had to comply with the collective bargaining agreement signed with the union—specific terms covering wages, working hours, and benefits.
---
An hour later.
At an FBI outpost in New York, Brian arrived to report to the officer overseeing the undercover operation.
They discussed the current progress.
"I've been successfully hired," Brian said, shrugging with relaxed confidence. "It wasn't hard. Jimmy checked my license, asked a few basic questions, and hired me. He hasn't assigned a specific role yet, but I'm guessing it'll involve freight trucks."
"Good work," his superior said, nodding. "But that's just the first step. Now you need to use this identity to infiltrate their organization, earn their trust, and participate in their criminal activities."
Getting hired at the club was easy. The place had employees from all walks of life, but they were only involved in day-to-day operations—not Mafia business.
"You need to earn Luca's trust," the superior continued. "Ideally, you get sponsored and become an associate of the Lucchese family. That way, you'll have access to their operations and be able to gather evidence."
"Associate."
Brian understood exactly what that meant. He had to prove his value, demonstrate he could bring profits to the family, build relationships, and eventually secure a position as an associate.
Blood ties weren't required for that role.
---
FBI New York Office.
Denham had begun to feel morally compromised ever since meeting Luca.
To outsiders, he was still the upright, incorruptible FBI agent. But to Luca, he was simply a buddy—someone who had accepted favors, done business with the Mafia, and allowed Jordan to live comfortably under protection.
After visiting his mother at the hospital, Denham returned to his office. He hadn't even sat down when a colleague approached.
"Denham, I've got some intel that might interest you."
"Oh?" Denham asked. "Useful to me? Aren't you handling Mafia investigations?"
He reached out to take the file and noticed it was written in French.
But his colleague pulled it back.
"You've been getting pretty close to Luca lately, haven't you?" the colleague said with a grin. "Jordan's aligned himself with the Lucchese family. Taking him down won't be easy now. But I didn't expect you to get that close to Luca."
Denham frowned.
He had been in frequent contact with Luca. Partly because he owed him a favor after accepting money, and partly because he hoped to obtain evidence against Jordan through him.
Surprisingly, Luca hadn't resisted the contact at all. In fact, he'd been warm and welcoming—he even brought Matilda to Denham's home, where she quickly bonded with his wife.
It felt like inviting a wolf into his house.
As for Jordan, he'd been hanging around the Bronx more often. Once, Denham had "run into" him, and Jordan had smugly bragged:
"This is Lucchese territory. You think you can touch me? The Mafia will wipe out your whole family."
Denham had nearly thrown a punch.
So you can cozy up to Luca, but I can't? I'm practically a VIP guest in Little Italy now. Who's afraid of who?
With Mafia members watching from the sidelines, this cat-and-mouse game had shifted to the Bronx. And Luca—the so-called Dove of Peace—seemed like the quiet referee behind the scenes.
"What are you getting at?" Denham asked.
His colleague sighed in admiration. "You're the only FBI agent who can talk directly with a Mafia figure without going undercover."
The contact was superficial, Denham knew. Luca would never involve him in criminal activities. But even so, it was unusual.
"So what's your relationship with him really like? What kind of intel do you have?" the colleague pressed. "Tell me about his SSR Club. I've got information about drug cartels laundering money through a Swiss banker."
Only then did he hand over the file.
The report detailed a Chinese restaurant called "Red Flower," specializing in Hot Pot. On the surface, it was legitimate. In reality, it was tied to a drug trafficking ring that laundered money through Swiss bankers via sports clubs and events—rowing regattas, rugby matches, baseball, motorsports.
Denham wasn't interested in drug enforcement. But money laundering caught his attention.
The Swiss banker's name was Saurel.
Denham recalled seeing Saurel's name while investigating Jordan. He lacked proof, but he suspected Saurel had laundered money for him.
"If we can take down Saurel…" he muttered.
His colleague added, "There was a major gang massacre connected to this operation. Several DEA agents were killed. It took significant pressure from Washington to contain the fallout."
Denham nodded. "Thank you. This is very useful."
He then shared his own observations about Luca.
"On the surface, Luca is extremely friendly. Compared to other Mafia members, he's less resistant to interacting with law enforcement—but only on a personal level. He has never once discussed family business with me. Not a single word."
"If you want to get close to him, treat him like a neighbor. Set aside your badge. Show him respect. In Little Italy, he's a respected figure."
"In other words, drop your prejudice about his Mafia ties. Approach him with goodwill."
His colleague stared at him in disbelief.
So he really are some kind of peace ambassador?
We'll see how good you are at telling friend from undercover agent.
---
Top-floor office of the club.
The room was silent except for the scratch of Luca's pen.
The war on drugs was winding down. The police no longer needed his assistance. It was time to think ahead.
As Marígio once said, you can't make serious money running just a club. Even adding a casino wouldn't change much. The real value lay in connections—using the club as a platform to gather business-minded partners and leverage resources.
The family's major rackets—smuggling, union manipulation, Dominic's drug trade—were already firmly controlled. Luca didn't touch drugs. He wasn't qualified to enter other established operations either; at best he'd be an errand boy.
Better to explore new territory.
He wrote down: Wall Street. Dot-com bubble.
The Mafia had limited influence over Wall Street. Investment banking and securities fraud weren't their strengths; they preferred tangible businesses.
Luca wasn't a financial genius either. But he had leverage over Jordan Belfort—and a sense of future internet trends.
Through Jordan's connections, he could begin investing in emerging tech companies. Offshore companies would also be necessary.
Next, he wrote: gasoline tax.
The gasoline tax scheme involved reselling fuel while evading taxes. In the original plotline, the Colombo family ran it in partnership with Russian gangs.
The method was simple: declare bankruptcy before taxes were due, transfer assets to a new company, let authorities chase a vanished owner who had already fled the U.S.
Then repeat.
Millions per week.
Currently, no one was running this scam.
If the Colombo family could do it, why couldn't he?
Foreign partners would be required.
Maybe he could even drag the so-called Baba Yaga into the mix.
He jotted down: Hollywood. Real estate. Sports clubs.
Investment
Money laundering
Leverage family influence. Build alliances. Make money together.
Luca will climb to the top.
He tore the paper into pieces, burned it, and watched it turn to ash.
Downstairs, he found Jimmy.
"Set up a meeting with Jordan Belfort. Also, I need tanker truck drivers from the Russian crew. Reach out to them."
Jimmy nodded, though he clearly didn't follow the bigger picture.
"Got it. Oh—and I hired a new driver today. He can handle tanker trucks."
"I need men I can trust."
"That's a tall order," Jimmy replied. "We don't have that many guys. We'll need the trucking union."
Luca frowned.
Union workers weren't Mafia members. Their leadership might have ties, but the rank and file were just employees.
Still—it was just fuel transport.
"Bring me that driver's résumé."
Jimmy handed it over. "Kid's got skills. Claims he won first place in a race in Los Angeles."
Luca looked at the name.
He froze.
Then he looked at the photo.
Brian O'Connor?
You're supposed to be in Los Angeles chasing Dominic Toretto's sister—what are you doing on my turf?
"Call him. I want to see him."
"I want to know how fast he really drives."
---
Half an hour later, in the club bar.
Looking at Brian's blond hair, Luca couldn't help but hear the melody in his head:
It's been a long day without you, my friend…
__________________________________________________________________________
[Character Card Discovered: Brian O'Connor (Unlocked)]
Rank: SSR
Source: The Fast and Furious series
Skills: Man and machine as one; charismatic; turns from darkness to light; family-first; See You Again.
Bond: Strangers
__________________________________________________________________________
Luca studied the five skills and sighed.
"No wonder you became the hero who walked away from the FBI for family."
The Mafia needs you.
You like family, right?
A Mafia family is still a family.
And this one?
It's a very big family.
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