Lavender and Gold - Dante Reyes x Reader [Fast X]

Chapter 15: Beautiful Faces

✧.* -2023: Rio de Janiero- ✧.*

Dante drives to the most popular spot in the Rio drag racing scene knowing that his nemesis Dominic Toretto will be there. The bald fool can't resist the streets and Dante is more than happy to make sure he stays there, preferably in the form of a bloody skidmark or in the unidentifiable viscera of an exploded body, but that's for a while later in his plan. For now, Dante is still playing by his father's rules, collecting suffering rather than giving in to his instinctual bloodlust, but the careful control Dante has conducted his plan, though not his life with, is eroding quickly.

Dante rides through the throngs of partying people, dancing and grinding to deafening music. A bunch of beautiful faces turned dumbly to whatever moves fast, is brightest, and is loud enough to catch their ever-wandering attention, a bunch of insects. Pretty people adorning the hoods of prettier cars, a powder keg of people looking for a fix of excitement that Dante will soon be giving them in spades.

Dante is in an all-lavender ensemble of an artfully large silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up enough to display the traditional tattoos on his forearms, and wide-legged pants that cinch his waist in a way that makes him want to act up even more, a pair of sunglasses with a jangling neck string, plus a multitude of rings and necklaces.

Dante parks his lavender colored 1966 Chevrolet Impala, climbing out with a learned swagger. He dumps a bag of stacks of thousands on the hood of his car before grabbing a couple of designer purses filled with more cash from inside the car, holding them up in front of him like a thurible at mass, cocky, confident, broken.

"A million dollars to whoever can beat me," he says loudly to the crowd before calling over Diogo, the self-appointed 'manager' of this scene, who takes the bags from him with a greedy smile.

He looks over at the snarky drag racer Isabelle. He is cordial with but uninterested in her, the up-and-coming street racer in the scene with a chip on her shoulder that could rival Dante's own if only she was a little crazier. He was never very interested in women, respectful if a bit odd towards them if choosing to interact at all, but uninterested all the same as they were never y/n so why bother?

Dante reclines on the hood of his car checking his nails and ruffling his hair which is put into a messy bun by a satin scrunchie, playing a game as a hundred or more people watch him rapt, all knowing that when Dante is at a party you never forget what he brings to the table. After a moment he dramatically gasps and puts his sunglasses up on his forehead when he finally acknowledges Dominic who has been standing in front of the crowd of partygoers a couple of yards away looking as apathetic and stony as ever.

"Dominic Toretto, I knew you would come for me," Dante says pointing at him languidly before taking a few carefully slow steps closer with something like a sashay, thoroughly enjoying the silent audience.

"I'm sorry we didn't get to meet in Roma, we were both so busy," Dante says with a shit-eating grin and holding up his arms like a child pantomiming confusion.

"I'm Dante, enchante," he says with a brief curtsy and a smile before his demeanor changes, him walking closer and closer to the seemingly impenetrable Dominic with a slowly forming sneer.

"And you were fantastico,' Dante points to him and raises his hands up, turning to the crowd.

"He saved the Vatican, who does that? Seriously, the pope, God? By the way, see what I did there? The way I went through the city, it was a bit of an homage to my family's safe except that it was on fire," Dante giggles a little before turning serious, "You remember my father."

Dominic finally speaks, matching Dante's stare without any hint of a reaction.

"Hernan Reyes," he says matter of factly.