Make sure you read chapter 24 before this!! and make sure to vote and comment there as well :)
A/n: the next chapter will be posted when this chapter gets 120+ votes and 100+ comments. I hope you all enjoy :))
"It's always one step forward, and three steps back."
\D E L I L A H W A R N E R|{UNEDITED}
"I don't want to do this" Emily suddenly said a frown on her face while her head down looking at her shoes.
"Why?" Damien asked sitting beside her and lifting her chin up.
She removed herself from Damien's hold "Delilah is so nice, she really loves all of us, how can we do this to her?" she stood up and pointed at both of them. Maxwell chuckled at her sentence and ordered her to shut up and sit down.
"Do you both not have hearts huh? Imagine how horrible Delilah must feel when she gets to know that her own fucking mother and her best friends betrayed her?" she screamed at their faces.
"She wouldn't know cause she would be dead by then," Maxwell said with a straight face, no emotions visible on his face whatsoever.
"Maxwell" Emily came forward and slapped him hard on his cheek.
"Emily, please don't" Damien came and grabbed Emily making her sit down.
"Damien please tell him to stop, I can't do this to her," Emily said looking at Damien pleadingly.
"You know I can't do it, both our family's life will be at risk if we try to go against him," he said the last part bitterly looking at Maxwell.
"Delilah deserves better, she deserves so much more than us," Emily said looking at Maxwell with so much hatred in her eyes.
"Don't you believe she cares too much about you to be exploited and discarded?" Damien replied, his eyes welling up with unshed tears for Delilah, as he looked at Maxwell.
"Well you have got to learn when to separate business and your personal life, right? For me, Delilah was nothing but a business deal," he said smirking and coming towards Emily and Damien.
I sat in front of my laptop, staring at the video that was playing.
My parents always told me I was a people pleaser, that I didn't do stuff for myself. That I didn't care enough for myself. I didn't believe them and I was always fine until 6 years ago. But that was the fucking problem. I shouldn't have been okay with being fine, I should have tried harder, for myself, only for myself. But no, I didn't. I always did stuff for my parents, for the people I loved, or at least I thought I loved.
I was constantly trying to make them proud, to put on a happy front and play a cynical game of pretending that everything in my little world was fine just so they could sleep at night. But when you spend so much time immersed in an act of perfection, you begin to forget who you are when the curtains close.
When you're alone in your bed with your knees to your chest and all your masks sitting motionless on the mattress, you become a victim of the criminals of indifference.
You simply don't feel, and you don't even realize it. That you have stopped, stopped feeling, and stopped living. You are just simply existing.
You try so hard not to feel anything after the terrible luck of individuals circling in and out of your life, each taking a different piece of you with them. You simply grin and avoid; you avoid and avoid and avoid until you simply forget about the agony and what you were attempting to hide.
Life begins to feel like a circle of distracting rituals and uninteresting times until you begin to accomplish things in dissociating thoughts. You stand in the mirror after a hot shower, a rough towel wrapped about your chest, staring for an unsettling amount of time at the mascara remnants beneath your eyes.
Do you ever have those moments when you simply can't help but touch a hot metal pot when it's on the gas burner, even though you know it'll hurt? But you do it anyhow, simply to feel anything, to take the numbness out of your heart.
And that's the moment when you start questioning yourself. Why am I living after all? What's the point of living?
By the time you realize the numbness in your heart, you wish nothing more than to get out of it.
And that's what I felt, almost for 2 years after Maxwell's betrayal.
The feeling of not feeling anything.
The feeling of misery.
The feeling of self-hatred.
The feeling of ending it all, because after all, what's the point of life anyway?
It was like a constant cycle of emotions. The emotions that couldn't be felt anymore.
That's what I felt for 2 years after Maxwell's betrayal.
But I got myself out of it. And I am not going to go back into that hole again, never again.
One good thing I felt after watching this video, that was sent to me by an unknown email, probably sent by someone from the Russian Mafia was the feeling of not feeling numb anymore.
There were only two emotions I felt right now.
Protective.
There was an urge for me to protect. Not only for myself, but for him as well. To protect him from the demons that haunt his mind every night when he goes to sleep. To protect him from his pathetic excuse of a father. To protect him from himself.
And the last and the most exciting feeling that took over me and will probably take over my whole existence will be the one that will probably destroy my life. But what's the use of living if you don't live it to the fullest, right?
The sensation to get my revenge.
⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰
Isabella- Delilah's mother, the one who was involved in Delilah's assassination program.( refer to chapter 13-18 if confused)
2 weeks later.
\D E L I L A H W A R N E R|
It was Isabella's birthday today.
She would have turned 49 today.
If she was alive.
But she wasn't.
Because she was killed off by him.
This day was probably the only day in the full year that I'd think about her. And no, it wasn't because of love, I never really thought of her as a mother after I found out about all her dirty deeds.
But I thought of her because I was her daughter.
And I'd watch her get killed in front of me.
If I was a second earlier, I could have possibly saved her, saved her from him.
But I couldn't.
You know why? Because I was a horrible daughter.
Because the thoughts of revenge were so high up in my head, that I'd forgotten for a while that she was my mother.
And I was her daughter.
The daughter that couldn't stop her mother from getting killed by her boyfriend.
The daughter that had told her mother to kill herself the last time she saw her.
The daughter that didn't notice the crack in her mother's voice and the tears in her mother's eyes the last time she talked to her.
The daughter that doesn't deserve to be called a daughter.
I wiped the tears that fell out of my eyes from the back of my hand and turned on the radio which played "if this is the last time" by LANY.
Let's talk about the fucking timing.
Hey mom, guess what? You're really tough
And I know you did all you could
Just to make sure my life was good.
My hands reached up to change the station but something in my heart tugged, and I stopped.
Guess I'll just drown myself in my misery tonight.
I reached up to the house and opened the door quietly with the key. The door opened with a loud sound startling me.
I opened the door and quickly went inside, swiftly closing it behind me.
When I turned around and came in contact with a person's chest, I let clutched my heart and let out the most shrilling scream ever.
If Isabella was still alive, she would have died the moment she heard me let out such an "un-ladylike" scream.
I stopped screaming when I felt someone pull me towards them, and my head landed on a chest.
"ouch," I grumbled, rubbing my head and looking at the person who pulled me so hard.
Maxwell.
Oh yeah about him, I have been ignoring him for the past 2 weeks.
Since the day I decided to take revenge.
Before everyone decides to get angry at me and the author, let me explain why I am ignoring him.
Well, since I have been planning the revenge. I have had to think about the past, more than I have thought about it in the last 4 years. And of course, that ended up triggering some memories of the past that I never wanted to remember.
Memories that were related to him.
And I couldn't get myself to face him, because I knew- either I would end up crying in his arms or either he would be dead in my arms.
I didn't want either, so the best option was to avoid him until I was done with the revenge.
Obviously, that didn't work out because now after 2 weeks, he is standing in front of me, with his hands crossed over on his chest making his veins look more noticeable.
Someone give me holy water.
Jesus Christ.
"Hi," I said smiling sheepishly, batting my eyelashes giving him the perfect manipulator look, the one that always works on men.
His scowl became more prominent as he flicked my forehead, making me gasp dramatically. It didn't even hurt.
oops.
"It's been so late Delilah. Where the fuck were you? You weren't even picking up your fucking call." he angered out, his figure moving closer to mine.
"It died, I guess," I said avoiding his eyes because he will catch my lie.
"Look at me," he demanded, his finger lifting my chin up but I jerked it away with my hand.
"No," I said coldly, or at least I was trying to be cold.
How do they make it seem so easy in books!!??
I thought that he would get angry, but his eyes soften as he let out a sigh, his hand gently holding my arms like I was a glass doll that would break.
"Did I do something wrong? Did I make you sad?" he asked tenderly, and I could almost hear the worry in his voice.
No, but if I talk to you right now, then I will definitely make you sad.
"Wait is it about Isabella's birthday?" he queried, his voice filled with disgust as if she is a piece of gum on the back of his shoe.
"Ba-Delilah, don't worry about her, you shouldn't be sad about her. She isn't worth it." he sneered as if her name only could make him puke in disgust.
Right now, the person I was looking at wasn't Maxwell.
It wasn't my husband.
It wasn't my ex-boyfriend.
It wasn't the guy that I once loved.
It was the guy that killed my mother.
"She isn't worth it? Then who is worth it Maxwell? Do you think you are worth it? You both did the same thing to me anyways. So why should she not be worth it and you be worth it?" I said venomously.
"Listen Delilah- she was not forced into this, and I was," he answered calmly, but his eyes were warning.
I scoffed. "You were forced when you were 13, not when you were 18. And who knows, maybe your bitch of a father forced my mother into this. Who knows how cheap that bastard could go for power?"
"Delilah," Maxwell's voice was alarming, warning me, not to utter one more word.
"You killed her, Maxwell. You killed my fucking mother, right in front of my eyes." I shouted, my hand fisting my dress so that I don't throw something on his fucking face.
"She was a bad person, Delilah. She deserved to die." Maxwell shouted back, his calm demeanor completely fading and his face red with fury.
"Oh, so according to you, Everyone bad person deserves to die right?" I shouted back, my voice turning icy at the mention of his stupid excuse.
"Of course they do," he spoke, his voice a little quiet, as if he was thinking that I was finally falling for his bullshit.
"Then you should have been the one that deserves to die Maxwell. You should have been the one that died that night."
He paused.
His eyes went wide as if he couldn't believe what came out of my mouth. His lips turned into a thin line as he stared at me, with a raw, too raw of an emotion.
Pain.
And as I saw the first tear fall from his eyes, I knew I'd fucked up.
HOPING I MADE NO ONE CRY, IF I DID THEN PLEASE GET UP AND TAKE A TISSUE.
YES, I UPDATE TWICE IN LESS THAN 24 HOURS, YALL BETTER LOVE ME FOR THIS.
ALSO, I FORGOT TO MENTION IT EARLIER BUT THANK U FOR 207K+ READS!! THIS IS CRAZY
MAKE SURE U VOTE AND COMMENT<3
until next time, ily
-alishba