How much is a human life worth to you? Do you value a person's existence? I never have. When I look at people, I don't feel compassion. I don't want to know anybody's story or why they do the things that they do. I don't care how other people feel. I don't believe that there is good in anybody, I have had too much experience that tells me differently. That is why they chose me. That is why they always choose me.

We have this deal going on. I do what they ask, and they give me everything I could ever want or need. I have a sweet condo, clothes that are fitted especially for me, exquisite jewelry, food and anything else that my little heart desires.

What do I have to do for this luxury? I just have to pretend to be somebody I'm not. I've never really had a true identity so it's not that hard. I am paid to hurt people in the worst way imaginable; emotionally. And guess what, I don't feel the least bit bad about it. Part of me actually enjoys it.

So, here is how it works: A tall guy (pervert) in a black suit and sunglasses delivers a red envelope to me. It doesn't matter what I am doing, he will interrupt it which really ticks me off. Anyway, the envelope has a letter in it, explaining to me "my" past, a birth certificate, social security card, photo ID, and a credit card in my new name. The letter would also have a picture included of the main subject and the task at hand.

How did I get myself into this? It's a long story, but I will try and make it short. My parents were murdered when I was seven; eleven years ago. They got involved with the wrong people and screwed them over. Sadly, I wasn't the least bit remorseful. My parents were never the nicest people. I wasn't taken care of: starved, beaten and used as a subject in porn videos, I was only good for money that they could make. Sometimes, instead of selling videos they would sell me. It isn't pleasant having old, fat and smelly men using you in whatever way they pleased.

So, the guy shoots my parents and was about to do me in when he stops and takes a closer look at me. Out of all the things I've been cursed with in this life, bad looks is not one of them. I am actually quite attractive, and that isn't being prideful, it's just a fact.

I stand at the height of five feet and seven inches. I have a curvy yet toned figure, which I have found has excellent advantages. My skin is light with a pink tint and absolutely flawless, my parents must have had good skin genes because even at the prime age of eighteen I have never had a single zit. The only imperfection on my skin is a light pink birthmark below my navel. My face is heart shaped, high cheekbones that are prominent are one of my favorite features. My hair is a rich auburn and falls to my waist in loose curls. My eyes are large and they change between blue and green, most often in the middle, leaving a unique aqua color. My eyelashes are long and thick, no need for mascara. Everything is evenly proportioned, a small, straight nose just above a full mouth and a dimple in my left cheek.

I hope I painted my picture well enough for you. Anyway, I guess the guy saw potential, even at such a young age. So he brought me to the boss who developed a soft spot for me. He had no daughters of his own and so he took me in as one. Fortunately for me, when he died and his son, who is four years older than I am, took over the business he held a soft spot as well. Although his interest in me is significantly different than his father's.

His father loved me as his own daughter. He would take me places, he showed me how to use a gun, taught me how to gamble, how to kill without leaving evidence, and sometimes though it was rare, would take me out for ice-cream.

The son, Derek, lusted for me. He claimed he had loved me his whole life. He had always gone with his father and me. He said the day that I learned how to always shoot to kill, I stole his heart. He wanted to marry me so I would never have to work again. He didn't understand how or why that I actually liked my job. My work is what I live for. I get to start new every time. I'm not Delilah anymore. I don't come from a shitty past. Every job I get, I am a normal girl with a normal life, out to scorn any man or woman who gets to close. Anyway, if I married him, he would not want me anymore. I would live a boring and secluded life, void of any excitement and no way to get out. I never want that. I was born to be on my own.

But the last mission I received; it changed my life. And that is where my story begins.