I walked alongside the brick garden pathway of Mr. Santini’s grand estate. Well, too late to turn back now. I was on his front steps, about to ring the doorbell. I decided that I wasn’t  going to be cowardly. I’d kill him upfront and right in his face. I owed him that much. I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, of his grand estate. A big, burly security guard opened the door, glazing his eyes over me, judging me, looking to see if I was a threat. I had to hand to him, Mr. Santini chose his guards well. Most guards for hire were just donut-eating machines who stole from their rich employers. But not him. Santini was always careful. “What’s your business here?” he questioned in a deep voice. “I’m here to see Mr. Santini.” I answered. “Do you have an appointment?” “No, but he won’t mind. Just tell him that Jason Hernandez is here, please.” The guard walked away, leaving the front door wide open, with me standing right there. He was really making this too easy. But I can’t kill him just yet. It’s not that I wasn’t ready, it was just that I wanted to be fair and give Santini a little more time with his life before I took it away from him. Once I thought about it, I realized it was for the greater good.. I mean, better me killing him, than some other dude who had no history with the man, waltzing in here, ending his life and enjoying the nice sum of money that Josh, my mercenary contractor was offering for this kill.  I walked in scanning the house for my potential getaway, once the job was done. I looked for things like windows, doors, and closets, just in case I didn’t make it out before the police arrived (which I doubted). I found my way into the living room and sat down on his fancy sofa. Taking a look around, not much had changed in the years since I been here, Mr. Santini still had most of the same furniture that probably cost more money than I ever owned in my life. Doing those summer jobs with my friends had really payed off in the long run. Mr. Santini would have us mow his lawn, clean his living room and stuff like that. The only thing was that he already had a gardener and a maid who did this for him, so really there was now work to be done. But he didn’t care. He still paid us just as much as he paid his employees plus a generous tip. Eventually we all developed a good relationship with him and every Friday he would take us out to dinner, asking us questions about our families, school and stuff like that. Finally, the same bodyguard came strutting back. I wonder what his name was. I’ll have to ask him. If he had any problem with me letting myself in, he didn’t let it show. “Mr. Santini says he would be delighted to have dinner with you,” he said, with a grimace, like it was a bad thing I was having dinner with Santini. “He will be having dinner momentarily, just as soon as the head chef is finished making the meals. Please follow me to the dining room.” I followed the guard whose name I had still not found out. He led me to a room that had a long mahogany table with chairs to match, and the table had three sets of plates and silverware.. That was weird. If it was only me and Mr. Santini eating, then why was the table set for three? “ Good evening, Mr. Hernandez, how do I find you on this cool, December evening?” I turned around in my seat and there he was. Mr. Santini himself, wearing a beige suit with a black tie, which almost blended in with his pale skin “I’m good, Mr. Santini, how ‘bout you?” “Dashing my dear boy, simply dashing.” He walked over and sat in one of the chairs, laying his eyes on me like he was dared to memorize every detail of my face. “You must tell me, how are your mother and father?” he questioned. He usually always asked me about my parents and usually his questions bored me to death, but today this was good news. This meant he had no idea about the contract I had accepted a few years ago to kill my parents. It was an initiation procedure that everyone in the Brotherhood had to complete in order to join. Accepting the contract meant you no longer had any family, friends or life outside the Brotherhood. Well, I suppose I could tell him a little bit of truth. “Oh, I’m sorry to tell you this Mr. San. but they passed away a few months ago. There were a group of men dressed like a moving company who broke in the house,they took everything while they weren’t home. Mom and Dad were just getting home as the men were getting ready to leave. From what I heard, if my parents had gotten home a few minutes later, they would have missed the robbers completely. Dad tried to fend them off but…” I looked off towards the window, trying to seem like I was still mourning from their deaths. If only I could pop out a few tears, make it seem really authentic. “Oh my dear boy, I offer you my deepest condolences, I can only remember your parents as wonderful people. They will truly be missed, “ he said with a look of sincerity. Too bad I was going to stab him in the back pretty soon. What would have been an awkward silence was interrupted by the waiters bringing in the food. “I hope you don’t mind Jason, but I took the liberty of ordering you the Crème Brûlée with shrimp and an Aperol Spritz mixed with a Spanish ingredient called “cicuta”. I assure you, it taste simply marvelous.” Santini looked so confident, it was hard not to take his word for it. My food was set in front of me and I began to eat. I figured what harm could a good meal do? After all, the old man had good intentions. He just wanted to feed me, see how I was doing. “So, how is it my dear boy? Does it live up to your expectations?” “It taste pretty good to me, Mr. Santini. How’s your food?” “ Excellent, Jason, excellent.” We ate our food in silence for a few minutes until I broke the silence. “Hey Mr. San, can I ask a question?” “Of course, my boy, of course,” he replied as he sipped his drink. “Why is the table set for three people if there are only two of us?” I asked, setting down my fork on the table. “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry, my boy, I forgot to mention that there will be a third guest joining us tonight for dinner. Come to think of it, she should be here momentarily,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his smartphone. As if on cue, his phone rang. “Excuse me, my dear boy, this call is dreadfully important and I would hate to miss it. I will be back in a moment,” he said getting out of his chair, leaving through the dining room door leading into the living room, shutting the door on his way. I then rose from my chair looking around for surveillance cameras, and once I made sure there were none I reached into my pocket to take out my bottle of methanol. My buddy, Jeremy had given me this to use on this job specifically. I’d known him since I was 7 and he was with me when Santini gave me and my friends small jobs to do around his house. Jeremy knew how devastatingly hard this would be for me to do so he gave me the bottle, clapped me on the shoulder and said “Better you than me,” with a grim expression. He told me only a tablespoon would be necessary, but I didn’t have the time to measure that out, so I just dumped the bottle into his drink. It was a colorless, odorless liquid so, he wouldn’t notice the difference. I slipped the empty bottle back into my pocket and sank back into my seat. Mr. Santini walked back in as if he planned it to be just when I sat back down. Here it goes. Mr Santini grimaced as he sat back in his seat. “That wasn’t too long, was it my dear boy? I would have been back sooner, but my sudden business call made me realize that our guest was a few minutes late, so I called her and she said she was almost here, she just got caught in traffic. You know, all this Christmas traffic can be troublesome,” he smiled at me and despite the fact that I was about to kill him, I couldn’t help but smile back. “Have you tried your drink, yet Jason.” “Oh no Mr. Santini, I was waiting for you, I thought it would be wrong to continue eating without you.” Of course my boy, thank you for being so considerate. I propose a toast,” he said, raising his glass up to the ceiling. “A toast to your parents! What contributions they made to this world!” We clinked glasses and we both drank. I watched him drain his glass out of the corner of my eye, just to be sure. Wow, that guy could really drink. “You must remind me Jason, what were your parents again?” he asked, setting his glass down. The poison would be taking effect any moment now. “Well my mom worked for the government, but my dad worked… worked… wor…” What was going on? My glass slipped out my hands and broke into a million pieces. I fell out of my chair and I must of fell on top of some of the glass shards, but I didn’t feel anything. I could still see, but I couldn’t move my arms or legs. I frantically looked around, the little amount I could see due to the fact that I wasn’t able to move my head or any of the muscles in my neck. I looked up towards the ceiling and and saw Santini standing above me. Damn the old man! He betrayed me! And to think I was going to show him mercy. But why would he want to kill me? I had never wronged Santini in my life. I would never know, because we were both about to die. “I am dreadfully sorry Jason, but this is necessary. The spanish ingredient “cicuta” that I put in your drink means hemlock in english, which can be quite deadly in the proper doses. Your mother told me you had become a mercenary, but why would that line of work bring you to my residence? After all, I... ” Finally, the poison was taking a toll on him! I could at least enjoy, this bittersweet victory, knowing Santini would be with me in the afterlife. “If you’re a mercenary and you came here…” Or maybe the poison hadn’t began to kill him yet. “Then that means…” His eyes widened as he figured out the true reason why I came here. Judging from the amount of footsteps I heard and the rapidness in them, he was probably attempting to rush to find an antidote to whatever position he thought I gave him. If the muscles in my throat had been working, I would have laughed. Even knowing that I poisoned him, there was no possible way Santini would have figured out which antidote to take. Santini suddenly dropped to the ground beside me. This was so ironic. Not only was I about to die at the hands of the man I had been sent to kill, he was probably just as blindsided by my betrayal as I was by his. Even knowing that I was a mercenary didn’t make him real I mean, what I did, that was business, I had to kill him. Santini must’ve had a secret grudge against me or something that would make him want to kill me. “Ja- Jason. I’m sorr- sorry…” Santini coughed. The poison must have really started to take effect. Whatever he used on me didn’t hurt, I just felt a numbing sensation all along my body. If this is dying, then it wasn’t so bad. All that crap about your life flashing before your eyes is a bunch of BS. All I could think about now is why Santini would want to kill me. As I laid there pondering that one question, I began to see spots in my vision, which meant my eyes were starting to shut down and with hemlock, once your eyes left you, the rest of your body was soon to follow. Eventually, my vision left and sniffing brought in no scent and the last thing I heard was the now deceased, Mr. Victor Santini take his last breath. In my mind, I thought not of my failures or my regrets, but of parents and how so sorry I would tell them I was when I saw them in a few minutes, once the last vestiges of life left my body.