Chapter 4

• "Hmm, this position suits you. Now, listen carefully. If you dare to disobey me or try anything funny, I won't hesitate to order my men to kill your sister instantly. Do you understand?" Ford stated.
• Roselle gave a nod, but her glare didn't waver. At this point, she didn't just want the police, she wanted to take this man down herself. She was certain now, this man was a criminal. And she despised criminals.
• "Now, let's start with your name. What is it?" Ford asked her.
• She took a moment before responding. She subtly scanned her surroundings, hoping to spot a passerby or, even better, a security guard. But there was no one. It was just her and Ford, under the bright daylight, with birds chirping in the background. She wondered where everyone was. This street was usually quiet, only bustling during sale days at the stores. Even though it had only been a week since she and Merline arrived in Florence, Italy, they had learned this much from their neighbor, a man in his late twenties.
• "Well?" Ford prodded.
• "First, tell me your full name," she demanded, thinking that if she knew his full name, she could report him to the police.
• "You're not in a position to make demands. Answer my question or bid your sister farewell," he retorted.
• "I won't tell you. You have to tell me your name first," she insisted. It seemed her sanity had indeed taken a nosedive.
• Ford's eyes narrowed. He crouched down until his eyes were level with hers. "You really don't want to know who I am, Firefly," he murmured softly, brushing her cheek with the barrel of the gun.
• "I do," she asserted firmly.
• "I'm your worst nightmare. I'm a monster who can kill with my bare hands. Now, tell me, darling, what's your worst nightmare?" He asked, appearing genuinely intrigued.
• "What will you do if I tell you?" Maybe she could convince him not to use her sister as a threat.
• "What do you want?" To her surprise, he was offering her a wish. He was like a malevolent genie.
• "If I tell you, then I want you to stop threatening my sister's life. You have a problem with me, leave my sister out of it," Roselle stated.
• "Done. Now answer my question." Ford agreed surprisingly quickly.
• It's a trap. There's always a trap.
• "My worst nightmare is the Mafia. Even though I've never met anyone from the Mafia, I still get nightmares about it. Maybe I watch too much 'The Godfather' or something, but I get nightmares about it. So there you have it, can I go now?" Kneeling on the ground was starting to hurt her knees.
• Ford gave her the most cryptic look ever. She had no idea what the look meant, but her gut told her it wasn't good.
• "What's your name?" He asked.
• "Come on, dude, now you're getting personal. First you ask me about my nightmares and now you want to know my name. What's next, you're going to ask my bra size!" she snapped.
• "Your. Name." He enunciated each word.
• "Roselle Now can I go?" The sun was getting stronger, she could feel sweat trickling down her back.
• "Stand up, Firefly," Ford ordered. It seemed he wasn't capable of pronouncing names properly. Maybe all he could say was Firefly.
• She stood up quickly, her knees sighing in relief. Taking her wrist, Ford began leading her away from Montana Pacio, her heart sinking in despair.
• "What's your full name?" she asked, as they passed various shops, most of which sold strange items she had no interest in whatsoever.
• Ford sighed before answering, "Dylan. Dylan Ford."
• "And what is it you do, Dylan?" His name was strange but beautiful. He was smart, he didn't tell her his real name outright. She was so naive.
• "You'll know very soon," he muttered, stopping in front of a traffic signal. "Where do you go from here?" He questioned.
• "Go where?" She tried to shake her wrist free but the maniac had a tight grip on her.
• "Your apartment," he answered.
• "Why do you want to go to my apartment?" This man had no idea what personal boundaries meant.
• "What did I say about talking back?" He gave her a hard look.
• "I'm not talking back, I'm asking a question. You didn't say anything about asking questions," she replied.
• "You are really annoying, you know that?" Dylan said irritably.
• "Oh you have no idea. One time, Merline and I were in school and she was with her boyfriend-"
• Dylan cut her off.
• "Where is your apartment?" He shouted, his eyes glowing with fury.
• "Oh, it's around the corner," she answered, afraid he was going to hit her. Dylan sighed before turning the corner and continued walking.
• "You know, you shouldn't shout...or get angry for that matter. You can get wrinkles and heart diseases. Not that I care if you die of a heart attack. It would be very good for me, actually."
• "Would you shut up!" Dylan snapped.
• "But why? I like talking to you, you don't talk much," she responded, looking around for a candy store. She had a sudden craving for candy.
• She yelped as Dylan slammed her against a wall, knocking the wind out of her. He brought his face close to hers, his nostrils flaring, his angry breath fanning her face. He looked furious.
• "You say one more word until we reach your apartment and I swear I'm going to break your little neck in half," he seethed.
• "Uh, if I stop talking then who is going to tell you where I live? And if you break my neck then you have no chance of finding out where I live." Roselle replied calmly, though inside her stomach was doing somersaults while her heart pounded with dread.