Location: Toretto's Garage, Mid-Evening
The garage buzzed with a quiet tension. Tools clinked, music played low in the background, but the usual ease that defined the Toretto family's home base felt... interrupted. Something unseen was pressing down on the air—unspoken truths, rising suspicions, and emotions just barely kept in check.
Adrian sat alone on the far side of the shop, a half-finished engine in front of him, though his focus had long since faded from the bolts and wires. Across the garage, Mia lingered by the doorway, watching him with searching eyes.
She had tried to sleep the night before. She couldn't. Her mind kept flashing back to the words Adrian had said. "You don't want to know, Mia. I was an assassin." That voice, that honesty… it hadn't come from the flirty, confident man she knew, but from something much deeper. Something broken. Something real.
She walked toward him, slow and certain. Adrian didn't look up, but he knew.
"I want the rest," she said softly.
His shoulders tightened. "That wasn't enough?"
"No. Because I'm still here."
Adrian sighed and finally lifted his gaze. He saw her there, so close, so brave—and he hated that part of him wanted to let her in.
The Story of 'Ghost'
"I was seventeen when I first disappeared," he said, voice calm and flat like the recounting of a bad dream. "Fake death. No funeral. No goodbyes. I became Ghost. No home, no ties. Just jobs. Contracts. Targets."
Mia's lips parted slightly, her breath caught in her chest.
"They called me the Assassin King by the time I was twenty-one. I was the guy people called when they wanted a dictator removed and didn't want fingerprints. I didn't just survive… I thrived. Cold. Precise. Untouchable."
"Until her?"
Adrian blinked. "You know?"
"I guessed," she said gently. "The way you looked at that Interpol file yesterday. That woman... she's part of your story, isn't she?"
He nodded. "Her name was Monica Fuentes. DEA agent. Deep cover. But before that, she was something else. She was my target. A hit that never happened. Because I didn't pull the trigger."
Mia looked down, then back up. "Did you love her?"
Adrian's jaw clenched. "We didn't have that luxury. It was fire and steel between us. One night. One moment. Then we walked away."
Mia's heart twisted. But she didn't ask anything more about Monica. She had already accepted who Adrian was—and who he used to be. What mattered now was what he chose next.
Meanwhile: Brian's Suspicions Grow
Brian paced near the edge of the property, phone to his ear.
"You guys have anything yet?" he asked quietly into the line.
A voice crackled back: "Negative. We've run Adrian King through everything—Interpol, CIA blacklists, NSA satellites, hell, even old military ghost records. Nothing. It's like the guy was built in a lab and dropped into Beacon Hills a month ago."
Brian exhaled sharply. "That's impossible. No one's that clean."
"Exactly."
Brian ended the call and turned back toward the garage. He'd heard Dom say he trusted Adrian. But Brian wasn't sure if that trust was earned... or if Dom just didn't know the whole truth.
And soon, Brian's own secrets would become the focus.
Later That Night: Mia and Adrian
Back inside, the tension had eased slightly. Adrian leaned against the hood of Dom's Charger while Mia stood in front of him, arms crossed loosely, expression unreadable.
"What do we call this?" she asked finally. "You and me."
Adrian chuckled low, not with humor but with hesitation. "Dangerous."
Mia stepped forward, placing her hands on his chest. "I can handle danger. I'm a Toretto."
He smiled at that, fingers brushing her waist, and for a second, the Ghost inside him faded, replaced by something painfully human.
"No labels," he murmured. "But if you need someone to call at 3 a.m., or to run from cops with, or just…" He paused. "I'm here, Mia. For you."
She leaned in, lips brushing his, the kiss slow, hot, and charged with every unsaid word between them.
"No promises?" she whispered.
"No promises," he echoed.
Final Scene: An Eye in the Dark
Far across town, in a hidden surveillance van, a pair of Homeland Security agents watched grainy footage from a street camera. On the screen: Adrian, standing in the garage with Mia, smiling.
"Shit…" one agent muttered.
"That's him?" the younger one asked.
"Yeah. That's Alpha. That's the f***ing Ghost. The Devil. The Mercenary King."
"And he's working with the Torettos?"
The senior agent leaned back slowly. "We're not touching him."
"Orders?"
"Not orders. Survival. You don't poke the Devil. You just pray he doesn't notice you."
End of Chapter 11