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Father Almasi pulled into the parking lot of the posh Majestic Plantation, an assisted living center for a wealthy clientele. He glanced at the rosary dangling from his rearview mirror. He was here at the behest of Adorjan Bodor. The worse half of billionaire twin brothers whose fortune had faithfully multiplied since the 17th Century.

The Bodors had a distinct ability of financially thriving no matter the environment. They lived in the ether of the top one percent. A class of wealth so insulated nothing could touch them. Now, as death stalked the ninety-six years old, Adorjan wanted to make peace with a world he'd wreaked havoc on.

The priest grabbed his bible from the passenger seat of his battered 1999 Toyota Camry and headed into the building. To call Majestic Plantation a nursing home would be an injustice. Although it was where the superrich sent their infirmed to die, the complex rivaled any five star hotel. The surroundings were opulent. The staff beautiful and pliant. Every desire a dying person could want was met...except of course more time.

Father Almasi was led into the sunroom by an exceptionally polite orderly. Adorjan Bodor sat in a wheel chair looking out of a floor to ceiling window absorbing the sunlight. The view was breathtaking but the old man seemed agitated.

"Good morning, Mr. Bodor, I'm Father Almasi. You sent for me."

Adorjan glanced up at him. "Are you Hungarian?" He asked.

"American." The priest supplied.

Adorjan looked through him with cruel eyes. "I wanted a Hungarian priest." He said dismissively.

"I am Hungarian by ancestry." Father Almasi said. This seemed to appease the old man.

"I'm not Catholic, you know?" Adorjan said with a smile. I'm a practicing atheist. I don't believe in shit. Nothing, except money and pleasure. But what use does an old man have for either?"

Father Almasi smiled patiently.

"My brother Agi, is he dead yet?" Adorjan asked. Father Almasi started to speak but remained quiet. He was actually going to meet with the other Bodor twin, Agi, after this meeting. Agi Bodor had sworn him to secrecy .

"No." Adorjan's eyes shifted slowly from side to side. "He's still alive. I would feel it if he wasn't. No matter really we are not the last ones you see. I know that now." He smiled again. Though his face and body bore the mark of his age, the old man's eyes were sharper than most twenty year olds, and held a maliciousness that was as clear as their deep blue color.

"Mr. Bodor, I must confess my curiosity as to why you've called me here. As you say, you are not a religious man."

"No," The old man's gaze past by the priest at settled on the wall. His face went pale. "But I believe in the devil. That I do believe in. I need a favor Father. A silly thing really but still, I need it."

"I will do for you whatever I can." The priest assured

"I need for you to pray for forgiveness of the sins of my ancestor."

Father Almasi frowned. "Mr. Bodor you don't need me to perform a prayer for healing your family tree. You can do that for yourself."

"I want you. I want a Hungarian priest." Adorjan glanced over the priest's shoulder again. His lips trembled. "I know you don't understand. Please indulge an old man.

Father Almasi nodded and said gently. "Close your eyes Mr. Bodor." And then he prayed.

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Father Almasi drove up the winding tree-lined road until he reached Dragon's Crest Manor. He lowered the window on his decrepit Camry and pushed the intercom.

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