Chapter 5

• As suddenly as he had seized her, Dylan Ford released Roselle. She watched him, puzzled, as he punched the wall about five times, each impact making her flinch. Was he having a psychotic episode? Did he have anger management issues?
• This is your chance. Run.
• For the first time in her life, she decided to listen to her instincts and sprinted away from Ford. Behind her, she could hear him yelling for her to stop and return to him. But she didn't listen, she just ran.
• No sooner had she turned another corner than she heard footsteps pounding the asphalt behind her. Her lungs were starting to hurt, but she didn't stop. She had to lose Ford, he was not sane.
• She thought she had succeeded when she saw her apartment building. And miraculously, she picked up speed. Behind her, the sound of footsteps seemed to be getting fainter and fainter. Yes! Ford was not fit enough to run. She was glad that his body couldn't handle the pressure of running.
• Just as she neared the gate of the apartment building, she was tackled to the ground by a muscular body. She screamed as pain exploded all over her body as she hit the asphalt. The pain was intense because she had nothing to break her fall.
• She struggled against the big mass of muscles but was overpowered. The muscular man laid her on her back and pinned her hands over her head. She screamed for help and tried to kick him but she couldn't move her legs as his legs prevented hers from moving.
• "You messed with the wrong woman, Firefly," Ford seethed as she struggled uselessly.
• "Let me go! Help!" she screamed until her throat hurt, but no one came to help.
• "No one will help you, I own this country and soon I am going to own you, too," he stated, making her heart stop. No, she would die before she let him own her.
• "Let me go!" she shouted.
• Ford silenced her by pressing a rag to her mouth and nose. Realizing his cruel intentions, she began struggling with renewed determination, trying her best not to breathe. She was wrong, the Mafia wasn't her worst nightmare, he was.
• "Stop struggling," Ford demanded.
• Eventually, her lungs started to hurt and all her energy deserted her, leaving her Ford's victim.
• "Just breathe, sweetie. It'll be all over soon," he cooed.
• Her lungs screamed in protest. And she did what she didn't want to do. She breathed in deeply. She inhaled whatever poison Ford had used on the rag. The sweet smell didn't take long to overpower her senses. After a few seconds, her mind started swimming, her tongue felt heavy and she found herself falling into darkness.
• ----------
• A sensation akin to a sledgehammer relentlessly pounding against her skull made Roselle wince. The simple act of opening her eyes felt like an insurmountable task. Her entire body ached as if it had been trampled by a freight train.
• When she finally managed to pry her eyes open, the first thing that registered was the familiar surroundings of her room. She was ensconced in her own bed, in her own apartment, with the comforter cocooning her in warmth and comfort.
• She attempted to rise, but her limbs felt as heavy as lead. Her arms refused to cooperate with her brain's commands. After several minutes of futile struggle, she surrendered and collapsed back onto the mattress. Instead, she focused her attention on the details of her room.
• Her room resembled a sanctuary for teddy bears. Teddy bears of all shapes and sizes occupied every nook and cranny of her room. There wasn't a single spot devoid of a cuddly, stuffed teddy bear. Merline had once commented that her room gave her the creeps. Oh, how she yearned for Merline's presence right now. Merline always seemed to know what to do in challenging situations. She was the smart one.
• The door to her bedroom creaked open and in sauntered the man she thought she had escaped from. Suddenly, the events of the past few hours crashed into her with the force of a tsunami. Dylan Ford's abduction of her and Merline. Her desperate flight from Ford. Ford tackling her to the ground and drugging her, his face a mask of rage. And now, he was here, striding towards her with a triumphant smile playing on his lips.
• "Hello, Firefly. I didn't expect you to wake up so soon. How are you feeling?" Ford inquired, placing a package on the nightstand before perching on the edge of the bed.
• "Go away. Haven't you heard of asking for permission before entering someone's home?" she managed to croak out.
• "Oh, I don't need permission to enter someone's home, Firefly," Ford retorted.
• His words triggered a flurry of questions in her mind. She tried to sit up but her limbs wouldn't respond. Panic welled up in her stomach, making it difficult for her to breathe as she stared at the handsome monster before her.
• "H-How did you know where I live?" she stammered.
• Ford responded with a dark chuckle. "You should understand one thing," he leaned in until his lips were mere centimeters from hers. "I know everything, sweetie. There's nothing in this world that I'm not aware of," he declared.
• "That's not true. There are a lot of things that you don't know," Roselle retorted, relieved that her voice was back to normal.
• "Oh really?" Ford arched an eyebrow. "Ask me anything and I'll give you the answer," he challenged.
• Roselle quickly began racking her brain, trying to find something that Ford would not know. After a couple of minutes, she knew what to ask him.
• "What is my blood type?" she asked, feeling proud of coming up with a challenging question.
• "That's easy, B negative," he answered with a smug smile.
• Her eyes widened at hearing his answer. "How did you know that?" she demanded.
• In response, Ford held out a syringe filled with crimson liquid. "Is-Is that my blood?" she asked, horrified.
• "Yes, it is," he confirmed, before pocketing the syringe.
• "Are you insane?! Why would you do that?" This man was like one of those psychotic scientists that were villains in horror movies.
• "Let's just say, when I see something interesting, I tend to find out everything about it," he replied.
• "You're disgusting. What are you going to do with my blood? Are you a vampire?" she queried, trying in vain to sit up.
• Ford laughed for a couple of minutes before giving her a smile. "No, I'm most certainly not a vampire. I'm a doctor," he revealed.
• Her eyes widened. "No way! You, a doctor? Impossible!" There was no way he could be a doctor, he was too malevolent for that.
• "Oh, and why can't I be a doctor, Firefly?" Ford questioned.
• "Because you're evil. You are a criminal. And criminals don't save people's lives, they end them," she retorted.
• "Why do you think I'm a criminal?" Ford inquired, removing a stethoscope from a black bag which was sitting on one of the armchairs that she had failed to notice.