Chapter 156

[Evelyn’s POV]

Oh...My...God...

The very second I lifted up my head to see my reflection, I felt my heart drop into my stomach in fright. All the blood in my body sank into my feet, making even my legs tingle with numbness.

At first, I didn’t think it was real. Honestly, I had thought that perhaps there was something wrong with the mirror. I didn’t believe that this was my face.

How could I?

This wasn’t me. This wasn’t the face I was born with—it had been cut, carved up, and roughly pieced back together like some poorly treated stuffed animal.

My lungs proceeded to burn with the lack of oxygen that I was unknowingly not letting in. I was stunned. Mortified. Scared.

I slowly got closer to the mirror, hoping that somehow my appearance would change. It didn’t. The ache in my chest only grew deeper.

Slowly, I reached my hand up to trace the various raised marks. From what I could tell, the deepest scar was located in the center of my right brow and reached all the way down to the center of her cheek. How Fiona managed to not permanently blind me was nothing short of a miracle in itself.

But that monstrous scar was accompanied by another deep, long mark that stretched along my jaw. No manner of time would fix this.

A sudden wave of dizziness forced me to finally take in a deep breath of air, even if it was shaky and stifled. That pain in my chest morphed into a devastating soreness in my throat. I closed my eyes hard and wished to wake up from the nightmare.

But no matter how many times I tried, nothing changed.

Who was this person staring back at me? How were they going to go about their life now that this was the face that everyone was going to see?

Torture.

That was what Fiona was always after. Her goal was never to kill me but rather destroy me from the inside out. She wanted to ensure that I would never be able to look at myself in the mirror again without remembering the horrible pain that had been inflicted on me.

A torture that would never end. Worst of all, it was a trauma that I wasn’t going to be able to hide from the outside world. I couldn’t lock it away in my mind like I had done so with Michael. Or even the countless years of neglect and abuse I received from Isabella and Samantha.

I remembered everything prior to her blade meeting my skin. Every word and every cruel insult she’d said was embedded in my mind.

“You’re going to kill me, is that it?”

Fiona’s smile was utterly haunting. “Maybe,” she hummed. “I think at the very least I ought to level out the playing field.”

Level out the playing field...She’d taken a blade to my face because she genuinely believed that Alexander, himself had been disfigured from the car accident. And the mere thought of him being married to someone who was considered ‘attractive’ was simply unthinkable.

I kept trying to tell myself that it was going to be okay. I didn’t want to make any of them believe that they succeeded in their goal to break me. Yet, she had. She’d quite literally torn me to pieces, making any chance of a clean recovery possible.

I’d received ongoing support from Nina, Wendy, Oliver and Alexander. No one could have prepared me for this. I would find a way to live with it but...That was before I comprehended the true severity of how these scars turned out.

It left me heartbroken.

Ever since my marriage to Alexander, I’d become nothing but a target for people’s hatred and disgusting ambitions. My own family showed their true colors and had gone as far as to put an end to my life.

My sadness subsided but only because it was trying to make room for a new emotion. Something inside of me was breaking. My heart. My mind. My self-restraint. My ability to press on.

I didn’t want to move on so easily. I wasn’t ready to accept the fact that this was my new reality.

Anger and an unyielding wave of rage stormed up, causing my features to pinch and seethe. I barely got a hold of my breathing as these unbridled feelings of loathing and hatred soared through me in thunderous ripples.

I hated what I saw in the mirror and refused to be the only one who would be suffering. The unbearable feeling had become too much to bear. Before I knew it, I let out the most blood-curdling scream I had ever produced.

The sound rattled off the walls and bounced back at me. I curled my hand into a tight fist and threw it at the mirror, causing the entire sheet of glass to shatter.

I wasn’t able to feel the pain in my hand for how numb I’d become. It wasn’t long until I began to hear excessive banging on the bathroom door.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Alexander's voice was filled with worry. “Evelyn?! What’s happened?!”

I pulled my lips back in a sneer. “G-Go away!”

I knew that wasn’t going to happen so easily. Alexander continued to knock on the door, demanding to be let in.

“Open the door!”

“No!”

“Open. The. Door.” His voice dropped several octaves, sending chills down my spine. But I wasn’t going to give in. Through my anger, I felt tears prickling the edges of my eyes.

If I opened the door, I knew whatever was between Alexander and me would be changed forever. And I wasn’t ready to lose that.

“O-Oliver,” I said weakly.

“...What?”

“I want Oliver. Bring him here.”

“Why?” he questioned harshly.

“Because I need him!” I shouted back bitterly.

I heard Alexander release a long, frustrated breath. “Fine,” he bit out.

A few minutes passed without hearing another word from Alexander. I didn’t want to think that he ignored my dire request to fetch Oliver.

“Evelyn?” A softer masculine voice spoke out from behind the door.

“Oliver? Are you alone?”

“Yes, what’s wrong? The whole house heard you screaming before.”

“I know,” I said with a cringe. “Look, do you know where Alexander keeps his mask?”

“...Yes. Why?”

“I need you to go and get it for me and to bring it back here, please.”

Oliver hesitated. “Evelyn, is this about the scars? Ian told us that he removed the stitches and—”

“Oliver, please! For the love of God, get Alexander’s mask and bring it here!” I cried out.

“Alright. I’ll be back.”

Once more, I was left to my own bitter silence. The pit in my stomach grew to unimaginable proportions. I wasn’t entirely sure how my idea was going to be perceived but I wasn’t planning on leaving this room without something to cover up my scars.

Not before long, Oliver returned. He gave a light knock on the door. “Evelyn, I have it. Can you open the door?”

This time, I strategically unlocked the door and opened it without giving Oliver the chance to catch a glimpse of me. I reached my arm through the crack of the door and the frame and waited for him to place the mask in my hand.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

For a few silent seconds, I glanced down at the mask, feeling the weight of its symbolism. For months I’d been led under the impression that this was what I had married. Little did I know that it was a lie.

With steady hands, I placed the mask over the scarred side of my face and secured the ties. When I glanced at my reflection for a second time, only one feeling arose.

The need for vengeance.