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I turn to look at him, his eyes dropping to my cell phone briefly before he looks back at the road.
“Abbott Rossi. He’s a pretentious prick, so it’s not surprising. For most of them, this is the first time they’ve seen me since I got out of prison. Let’s just say they were shocked to see the man I’ve become.”
“You had poor impulse control.”
I grin. “I beat four men to death while singing ‘We are the Champions.’ I think poor impulse control is putting it mildly.”
He chuckles. “Okay, fine, you were a psychopath then, and you’re still one now. It’s just now you’ve figured out how to hide it better.”
I’m not sure I buy that, but if it helps him sleep at night, then whatever.
We turn into Vigo’s long ass driveway and head toward the guardhouse. I pull my gun out and put the silencer on it and wait until we reach the gates.
There are two guards in the booth. One is looking at screens in the back, and the other is standing up to lean in toward the driver’s side window to ask for ID. I climb out and walk around the back of the car.
“Hey!” the first guard yells as I lift my gun and shoot him in the head. He drops to the floor as the second guard whirls around. I shoot two bullets into his face before walking up and putting my arm through the window, hitting the button for the gate.
Whistling as I walk back around the car, I climb in as the gates open, and Isaac drives up to the house. There are only two other cars out front when we park. And I recognize one as the car Miles drives.
We climb out, and I grab a bag from the trunk before we head up the steps to the house.
The door is open when we get there. Isaac rolls his eyes. “Seriously?”
I snort because I thought the same thing when I first came here.
“I’ll go work on crowd control while you go say hi to your father-in-law.” Isaac smirks as he puts the silencer on his gun.
I grip my gun and nod which way I’m going. He heads in the opposite direction. As I round the corner, a guard appears. His eyes widen with shock when he sees me. He reaches for his gun, but I shoot him before he has a chance. One in the throat, one in the stomach.
I step over him as he bleeds out and make my way up to Vigo’s room. I shove the door open, taking in the occupants of the room as I enter. Miles is leaning against the wall, watching an older man fuss over Vigo. Miles stands straighter when he sees me.
“Who else knows about Vigo’s condition?”
The man whirls at the sound of my voice and curses.
“The doc here, the housekeeper, his personal guard, who’s on duty today, and the chef. Everything has been kept hush-hush.”
“Good.” I shoot the doctor in the head and walk farther into the room. “Isaac is taking care of the others. Help him out, then head back to the house to relieve Conner.”
“You got it, boss. How did it go today?”
“You’re looking at the new don.”
“Fuck yes,” he says with a smile before heading out.
I call his name before he closes the door. “Any sign of Gia and Aldo?”
“No, but word is they are spending two nights at the Bellingham Plaza.”
“Alright, thanks.”
He closes the door as I walk closer to the bed, placing my bag on Vigo’s legs. I pull out the sheet inside the bag before turning on the television facing the bed. I tap my phone and cast the video onto the TV, having it on standby until I’m ready.
Placing my gun on the table at the end of his bed for a second, I pull the syringe out of my pocket and step over the doctor to stand next to the machine that’s helping Vigo breathe. I remove his oxygen mask and turn the machine off so the beeping noise doesn’t piss me off.
Using my teeth, I tug the cap off the needle and flick the end, like I see them do on TV. With a grin, I drive the needle into Vigo’s chest and inject him with adrenaline. He comes to with a gasp, bolting upright. I shove him back down, holding him in place as he gets his bearings and focuses on my face.
“Hello, Vigo. Miss me?”
