I

Among the silence that prevailed around her, enshrouding her haven with peace, the sudden interruption shook her to the core.

The doorbell rang, signaling her about someone's appearance at the door.

Her eyes stared blankly at the door of her room as she huffed, thinking who would be there at this hour.

She bent a little as her hair dangled by her shoulder. She grabbed her jacket and put it on before she walked downstairs to open the door for the person.

The silence was spread around her house as the visitor didn't knock twice. She was home alone, expecting nobody by her side, but as her father had many partners and guests visit him from time to time, she thought it would be one of them.

However, her father wasn't even home.

The sound of her footsteps could be heard as she walked downstairs, holding the railing.

Another time the visitor interrupted her and she had no other way than to reply loudly, “Yeah, just coming!” as she walked to the door.

She opened the door slightly and found a bulky man standing before her curious brown eyes. He was dressed in black and she wondered if he was a bank agent.

At this hour? She mused, eyes narrowing at the man. She doubted him, no wonder. She stood confused, wondering if the man knew about her father and wanted to visit him.

“Um. . . sorry, Mister, but do we know you?” She had nothing else to ask. She needed to confirm first.

Her voice was soft even if she asked the man about his identity. It held no accusation but the respect within the tone made the man smile slightly. However, it was a forced one and Delilah could see it.

Maybe the man wasn't fond of smiling often, she concluded in a fleeting moment yet never passed a comment.

“I'm Maddox, Miss,” he tipped his head, “Judas’ friend. Your father, if I've guessed correctly.” At this, Delilah nodded her head. Impressed, he added, “We planned on meeting today.”

Delilah was still suspicious about this. It wasn't her fault. She always doubted men with mysterious auras like the man who stood before her eyes. He possessed some dark aura that made her coil behind the door. Not only does his appearance demand attention as well as submission but his voice, too.

But then, what if he's truly her father's friend?

It wasn't the first time she was meeting her father's friend. Many came. So many meetings he held at home, in his study room and Delilah has seen and even met with some of them.

All of them were intimidating and rarely smiled.

“Oh, pardon me! But sir, Dad isn't home. He's out of town, as he told me. Regarding some work,” she told him honestly, letting a polite smile capture her lips. At the same moment, she even loosened her grip on the doorknob, realizing there was no threat.

A frown appeared on the man's face. It masked bitter enough to reach her eyes as she stood confused by the sudden change.

“He isn't home,” his jaw flexed, “or you're lying?” A hint of annoyance could be sensed by her in his bitter tone. A tight crease appeared between his eyebrows, yet the look in his eyes remained hidden behind the dark goggles that we wore.

Delilah blinked in confusion. “Sorry, but why would I lie to you?” Her voice came out edgy at the absurd accusation the man just marked her with.

“Enough!” The man roared, taking her by surprise when he pushed the door wide open, making her stumble back as she landed right on her butt.

It hurt so bad as she hissed under her breath, but she had no time to react when the sound of urgent footsteps compelled her eyes to shoot open. It wasn't about a single man.

When she looked up, she found more than one man intruding on her house with urgent steps and bitter facial expressions.

Her face went pale, her heart dropping. She found her suspicion to be right. He wasn't an ordinary man. He was much more, carrying more like him. They were dressed like him, tall and intimidating, wearing all black and exuding only danger.

She understood she had to run away and that's what she did.

“Take care of her,” one of them said very casually, moving away.

His partner nodded and chased Delilah before she could reach the staircase. Her arm was seized in his dangerous clutch as he yanked her back, causing her to wince in pain. The way they used and were going to use wasn't pleasant, at all.

Horror gripped her when she was held back. “Leave me!” She cried out the very next instant, starting to wriggle wild.

“Shut up!” He yelled into her ear, keeping her close and under.

His command was absurd and everybody knew that. She could not shut her mouth after some unknown bulky men just intruded on her house and misbehaved with her after pretending to know her father.

“No!” She shot back, only to be turned by the man harshly as she faced him now. Before he could take another action, Delilah wasted no chance and kicked him right between his legs, catching him off the guards.

In reflex, her arm was freed as he bent over in throbbing pain but what Delilah did earned the attention of the rest. He cursed her under his breath while she cringed in disgust. But that wasn't something she cared about the most.

Her life, yes, that's what she wanted to save.

She turned to escape when the other man stepped in between. He grabbed her hand as he made her face him and slapped her right across the face hard, making her fall silent.

Finally, no more yelling and wriggling could be heard but only the deadly presence of those men surrounded her.

On the other hand, the pain she felt was terrible. As badly as she wanted to hold her cheek, she feared a mere touch may increase the terrible pain. It burned like hell.

“Try to behave like a b*tch again, and I'll do worse,” the same man who just manhandled her threatened with a voice dripping with venom, a promise so solemn and deep.

Delilah cringed. Her stomach churned in disgust at the man's threat. She wondered if he was even a man.

While she faced the ground in shame, tears burning her eyes and turning them blur, the man breathed in satisfaction as no noise was echoing around to bother him. He hated noise.

He stepped ahead and she flinched back, her heart skipping a beat in fear he might hit her again. When he tried to grab her arm, she pried it off, still glaring at him through her watery eyes.

The man who stood before her admired her audacity, cocking a brow as if impressed. Even if the corner of his lips was quirked up in amusement, fury still swirled around his dark and deadly orbs. He was the first man among them whose eyes Delilah could see and that too shone with threat.

“You're testing my patience, girl,” he growled, ignoring the eyes of other men. It was becoming amusing to them.

She stood her ground, swallowing as she tried to muster up the courage to speak. “Look, I don't—” she tried to speak but ended up hissing under her breath when the muscles of her face ached. The slap was really hard. Her hand itched to hold her cheek but she didn't.

The man laughed, “You were saying something, huh?” He mocked, disgusting her even more.

He stood proud like he did a brilliant job by slapping her. She wondered what kind of a person he was. The more she looked at him, the more she got sick of him and his companions. He used his manly strength to shut her mouth when she was only trying to get herself saved.

Her jaw clenched and she decided to complete the words. “I don't know you, nor does my Dad. What do you have to do with us?”

Behind him was another man and he threw a glance at the one who stood in front of Delilah, as if communicating with him through gestures. The man who stood before Delilah dismissed it lightly, glaring back at the girl.

“We do. Your father is Judas f*cking bas*ard Seth, right?”

Fury bubbled inside her when she heard the man's disrespectful words towards her father.

“What's this dumb way of addressing someone?” She didn't care if her face hurt now or if the man was going to do it again. Her father mattered more to her. “Aren't you younger than my father?” She uttered, fisting so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Even if her nature of replying was amusing to the men, one of them was surely irked to do worse but he was keeping himself behind, not wanting to defy the orders of their commander.

“Are you teaching me now, Miss Morals?” He muttered, eyes narrowing at her.

“You have no manners.”

“You don't expect manners from us.”

“Why? Do you live in the jungle?”

“She speaks too much,” he muttered and immediately grabbed her arm. She gasped, trying to pull away but he gave her no chance.

Compared to his manly strength, she had nothing. She tried to get away but he effortlessly dragged her to the couch, paying no attention to her plea for mercy. He threw her upon a couch like a rag doll and before she could even recover, she found him slamming her wrist against the armrest as he restrained her.

“What's wrong with you!?” She cried both in pain as well as frustration, her ragged breathing blowing her tousled hair that hung before her eyes. “I don't even know you!” She repeated, thinking it might ring a bell in their heads if it couldn't work before.

He gave her no answer. She was panicking, wriggling her hands but he didn't let her have any chance. Her heart was pounding inside her chest while her limbs trembled as she anticipated the next.

She was surrounded by his companions as they stood on her head, arms folded on their chests. The one who handled her cruelly stood in front of her. He stepped ahead and very gently, he pushed those strands away from her face. She recoiled at his touch, hissing as if it just burned her.

He didn't mind her reaction, looking more satisfied as he dragged a chair and sat on it with a sigh.

“Now we can talk peacefully,” he muttered, followed by a clicking sound that came from behind.

When she looked at the man from the corner of her eye, she was shocked to find a gun in his hand. Her stomach dropped, and her face went pale. She was terrified out of wits just by the look of it.

Was he going to use it on her?

The man in front of her caught her gaping at the gun in his companions's hand and he knew they had her trembling.

“Don't be afraid.” That was absurd and so was the look she gave him when she looked back at him. “You should be afraid only when you're lying to us.”

“I'm not lying,” her reply came the very next moment. “Rather, you lied to me about my Dad.”

“We know him,” he pressed, “We know that piece of—”

“Don't!” She retorted in the middle, eyes boring into his dark ones and he sat amused which she couldn't notice because of the way he hid his emotions. Expertly. “Respect my Dad,” she completed, swallowing as she felt her throat aching.

The man only laughed. “Fine! But only for you,” a smirk spread on his lips, and she nearly made a face at the reaction. “So, Mister Seth is okay, isn't it?” He continued mocking, and his teammates laughed along with him.

However, Delilah nodded her head. “That's okay.”

She had nothing to do with their sick jokes and insanity to have fun while they used violence and threatened people. She knew she was different from them and their existence only amazed her.

When on one side, God's love amazed her, people's cruelty was something else that made her believe she knew not even a bit of it.

He hummed, voice deep and intimidating. “Tell us where your Dad is, and we'll leave peacefully. How's the deal?”

She scoffed. “He's out of town, and I told you that, haven't I?”

“Of course. Where?”

“I don't know that.”

“A lie.” It wasn't the man who was interrogating her, but rather the one who stood behind her and always held burning fury in his fist for Delilah because of her retorting nature. His temper flared when he said the two words and took a threatening step in Delilah's direction, of which she wasn't even aware.

He grabbed her hair from behind and arched her neck brutally. The force he applied made her cry in agony as her eyes fell shut and tears rolled down from the corners, hanging through her jaw.

“Stop lying and tell us where the damn he is! Or we'll kill you before we catch him either by hook or by crook, and burn him alive!” He utters, glaring down at her face that was twisted in agony. Her hands could not be used and she only begged him to release her which he didn't until a command from his own teammate came;

“Carlos, leave her!” And he did.

It was a huge relief as she got freed, her chin wobbling and her breath shuddering. Tears flowed down her closed eyes and she fisted her hands, wishing to touch her neck and caress the place which she couldn't do.

“Did you hear him, girl?” They had no pity, asking Delilah as if she was a kid who was misbehaving. “If you tell us straight, we won't do anything,” the man's tone was reassuring and Delilah resisted this urge to scoff so badly.

After hurting her, they were assuring her. It was useless.

“I don't know. Honestly,” she almost begged as her voice came out in a wavering whisper. She wanted them to leave her as soon as possible.

To her response, his jaw flexed and he got up from the chair. Delilah gaped at him in anticipation while her toes curled. She feared he might hit her or hurt her again in some other way.

As he stepped closer to tower over her, she pushed herself back, wanting the couch to swallow her whole. Her eyes squeezed shut as she waited for another blow in her face, but it never came.

Rather, he delicately put his forefinger under her chin and made her face him. His eyes beheld her tear-stricken face before he murmured, “Look at me.”

Carefully, she opened her eyes, having him ask, “What's your name?”

She did not answer. She planned not to disclose her name any soon. He stood there for a few seconds before he growled dangerously, “I asked about your f*cking name, girl!”

And that was it. She stuttered miserably as she told him her name.

He hummed. “So look, Delilah, your father is no saint, okay?” He saw confusion in those dark and red-rimmed eyes. “He betrayed us and flew away, got it? We're here to interrogate him, and that stands compulsory. We aren't able to track him down, that's why we're here. So don't waste our time and tell us where the damn he is!”

It was enough for Delilah to know that he didn't believe her. None of them. And she didn't know how she could make them believe her because she was not lying.

Also, the new information had her trapped in confusion. Why would her father betray them? She wondered but deep down, she wondered if it was true.

“My Dad isn't a betrayer,” she mumbled, absent-mindedly.

The man didn't care. “He is. Let's not dig into the matter before you because it won't be good.”

He leaned down, looking straight into her eyes and that made her swallow in nervousness. The proximity was killing. It was too much to bear. She could easily smell his cinnamon scent and that made her sick in her stomach.

He looked deep into her eyes as if digging into her facade. As much as she tried to act normal, he knew he had her cornered and uncomfortable. He had her vulnerable.

“But I really have no idea where my Dad is,” she whispered, lowering her gaze to anything but his eyes.

Eyes lingering over her red tainted cheeks which were only of shame and discomfort, he let a smirk play on his lips which Delilah noticed. For him, it was fun, and she knew that.

“You didn't even try to contact him?”

“It's not the first time he's been out of town for more than two days.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “What about now?” That made her heart skip a beat. She knew his plan all too well. “You should ask him if he's fine or not, yeah?”

Her heart shuddered in terror as she realized they wanted to hunt her father down through her. What a pity. She didn't want to become the reason, nor did she want any harm to come to her father but she felt trapped.

“Okay then, let's call your dear Daddy and ask him where he's been hiding, okay?” Saying that to Delilah in pure amusement, he gestured to his partner who nodded his head in understanding. She didn't know what they talked about in gestures but she was sure they were ready for it. She was in big trouble now.

“Tell me where your phone is,” he demanded and she didn't want to tell him that.