The car slowed as we approached the large iron gates leading into Don Virelli's estate.
This place looked different from how I remembered it.
Security had increased.
More guards rotated around the entrance now, their movements sharp and disciplined. Not the careless standing around I used to see years ago. These ones watched everything, the road, the trees, even the sky like they expected danger to fall from it.
New surveillance cameras were mounted at different angles, some hidden, some placed openly like a warning. Motion sensors had been added along the fence walls, and the old gate system had been replaced with a heavier reinforced steel design.
He had upgraded.
Our vehicle slowed to a complete stop.
Ariel lowered the tinted rear window on my side.
One of the guards approached immediately.
His steps were confident, professional. His hand rested close to his weapon, not threatening, just prepared.
His eyes moved to the back seat.
Then he froze for half a second.
