I was having another of those bad days—or nights because I usually spent my days holed up somewhere.

The situation was getting past ridiculous, leaning toward annoying. After the last time, Greco and I had a chat, and he insisted there was no issue, things had gone well for a time. I suddenly had more marks than I ever had before, and a few times after that near-disastrous mission, everything had been carried out just fine.

And then today happened, when I was told this was someone I had to take out in the span of twenty-four hours. Everything had been going fine, as per the plan, I even got the guy, when I was practically ambushed. If not for the intense training I went through, all the missions I'd successfully undertaken, I wondered if I would have made it out alive.

I was starting to doubt Greco was being honest with me.

I stood in front of the man, giving him my report, holding perfect form even though I could feel the aches, and something wet trickling down my side. I hadn't had time to take stock of any injuries or to begin treating them. I came back to the island because it was, temporarily at least with my suspicions, the safest place I could end up, and he'd asked to see me as soon as I docked.

"So, you finished the job?"

"He was dispatched, no witnesses, just like you wanted."

He gave a nod, and I thought he looked pleased if a little surprised. I wasn’t sure whether to trust that expression. I'd known, in the beginning, not to trust him. He was a mafia boss, and the only relationship we had was a business arrangement that helped me as much as it did him, and I'd built on that. It wasn’t to say that I trusted him implicitly, but he rarely lied to me, just omitted things that I didn’t want to know anyway, so I never cared.

But this was going too far.

I was nearly killed again at this last job I’d done.

It had been a few weeks since something like it had happened after I last talked to Greco. I hadn't let myself grow lax, but last night had been close. I didn’t even get the chance to prepare the scene. I didn’t think the police would come knocking down my door just yet, but it was close. I survived this job because of the anonymity. Once I lost it, I'd have to go underground. There was no question of my records appearing in a police search if it was extensive enough research. Or, at the very least, tagging a few flags, and that was worse for me in the long run.

"You did a good job. I'll have the money for you by tomorrow."

Another reason why I was usually delayed, he paid for every mark beforehand. I'd held onto the money for the two I'd let go until I found a way to get to them later, but because this had been a rush job—I got the order off the island and decided to get right on it—there hadn't been time for that.

"Will you have any more work for me anytime soon?"

He looked thoughtful. "Maybe. Human stupidity knows no bounds, but let's hope they're at least smart enough not to get themselves caught."

I wouldn’t mind the time off. But lately, even before this, I'd been thinking of taking a permanent vacation. I loved my job, the power it gave me, but I wasn’t so big a megalomaniac I could ignore something like this.

I only took this job to kill the General's family, and the General himself. After what he did, it was the least he deserved, and I knew he had about as much family as I did. I left my home country, knowing there was nothing more for me there, but I never expected for the bastard to kill them, and have it flaunted on television by appearing for an interview on the murders and my disappearance from the unit. I hadn't been sure if it was a taunt, or a message, or what exactly. Even in the US, the news made headlines for a couple of weeks; news channels and papers. I came across it entirely by coincidence, but the twenty-first century being what it was, I could easily find all the information, plus all the interviews and quotes, recorded somewhere on the internet.

There was a message in his words that no one could understand, that no one else but the men from my old unit would have been able to even guess at. He basically told me he did it himself on national television, and once the international media got hold of the news as well as the entire globe, and I was the only one who knew that he could get away with it, no problem.

Like hell.

The only reason I had waited this long to move was because I didn’t know his location or the location of most of his family. He was smart, moving them around before he went after mine, but he couldn’t move them all. I waited to find all of them, and find his position, so he wouldn’t hinder me, get ahead in line before I'd finished them all off. I wanted him to suffer like I did, and that was why I was saving him for last. I didn’t really care what happened to me afterward.

I had been with Greco for years with that one goal in mind. He only partially knew my backstory; I couldn’t tell him most of it because it was classified. Even though I didn’t feel I owed any loyalty to the army, I couldn’t bring myself to shell out that kind of information to a civilian. Some of it I just didn’t want him to know. I'd thought about asking him for help once, but the General was a big man in a foreign army, anyone would be a little leery of trying something so risky, even Greco.

So, I kept it to myself and did my job as I was supposed to. And I was okay, not quite happy, but content to wait for—if necessary—my revenge. But it was never far from my mind, and as the years passed, I grew restless. After what happened today, me nearly dying when I was still nowhere near completing my goal, only brought it all home.

It had been years. Working for Greco was good to my bank account, but when I went on a job, I wasn’t focusing on my mission, but what he wanted me to do. I could have died without getting my revenge, and that thought almost floored me.

It was time to move on.

"You're excused for the night," Greco said, breaking my out of my thoughts. I turned to head out, but he spoke again. "Before you go, I wanted to tell you."

I felt the dread pool in my stomach. These kinds of conversations led in a specific direction, all the time. I wasn’t sure I was feeling up for it. But I turned back, respectfully, and inclined my head.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm having another party thrown."

Of course, because karma hated me or something.

"It won't be for another week so you have time to prepare."

At least there was that.

"What is the party for, exactly?" I asked slowly. "It’s a little soon after the wedding, isn’t it?"

His parties were usually few and far in between, which might have something to do with why they're so popular. Maybe once or twice a year, although one year there had been three of them. Still, it was only within a couple of months. The reason for having few parties, certainly on his private island, were purely for security reasons, and the man really didn’t like having his territory being invaded.

He smiled, and if I didn't know him, I would have said it was almost happy, though there was definite pride in it.

"The party is for the same lovely couple, though I have to admit I was surprised at how soon, myself. I'm proud of my son, of course, the boy has his priorities straight."

I guessed what it was about very easily.

"You will attend this party."

I read the order in his words since that was what they really were, but I didn’t have any hesitation.

"I'll go."

It was the best opportunity I could think of, and it would be public, which might work in my favor in case he reacted less than pleasantly. He wouldn’t dare cause a scene, and I could slip out before anyone was the wiser, and be gone before he thought to look for me.

I would tell Greco that it was all over, I didn’t want to be his hitman anymore.

Thinking of it in those terms made it sound disturbingly like a breakup, but whatever. When he had no more to say, I left the room, feeling the aches in my body anew, and much stronger. I'd get myself patched up and off the island by morning, and then I had some planning to do.