HIS DOLL

17- Breakfast

The next day, I woke up and didn't find her in the room. Not bothering to worry about her presence, I freshened up. I wore a white buttoned shirt and black trousers.

Lighting up my cigar, I came out of the room to search for my bird. I found her instantly when two of Akram's men were staring at her unconscious body with a salacious look.

Furrowing my brows, I came closer. They didn't notice me behind them and as I growled from behind.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"S-Sir? When did you?"

Scared at my warning call, they moved back quickly, looking down from fear for daring to stare at my chattel.

"Get lost." I ordered, rolling my eyes off and noticed her shirt was loose so it was revealing her cleavage.

Tat was what they were staring at. My jaw clenched, glaring at them, "Get me a blanket too." I hissed.

Frightened, they left hastily. Sighing, I lifted her shirt, setting it and took a long inhale from my cigar.

Damn woman, of all the rooms in the farmhouse, she decided to sleep in the lounge where anyone could feast their eyes.

With a grimace lingering on my face, I covered her with the blanket and took a seat on the couch next to hers. I reclined, indulging in my cigar while using my phone for the time being.

But, soon I grew bored of waiting for her to wake up. She seemed like a heavy sleeper, nothing was affecting her. Mouth still opened, hugging the pillow to her chest.

"Hey." I called and got no reaction.

Shaking my head, I leaned forward, taking a long inhale from the smoke and released it on her face. The second she took in air, it got into her lungs due to passive smoking, causing her to cough badly.

"What the-?"

I smirked, "Up finally, hmm? Good."

Flinching, she sat up hastily, covering herself with the blanket. I stared at her when she pushed her long silky hairs behind, shifting to the corner of the couch while averting her silver gaze to the ground.

"Go freshen up and make breakfast for both of us." I said calmly, going back to my phone, finishing my cigar while glancing at her from time to time.

"M-Me?" She asked vaguely.

"You know how to cook, no? You didn't mind doing it all day then why can't you make anything for me too?" I taunted, shrugging my shoulders.

She didn't question and to avoid me, she got up hastily, going back to the room to freshen up, the hint of fear lingering in those desirable eyes.

I patiently waited as it took her a while to come out of the room. She was wearing her most covering clothes. The long kurti, trousers and even a dupatta, covering herself.

"What took you so long?"

"I skipped Fajr (a prayer name), I did it first." She mumbled, not meeting my eyes and going quietly to make breakfast.

"French Toast, Darling." I added.

"Akram."

"Yes, Boss?"

"Does she wear them everyday?" I asked, calling Akram because when I met her at her dance institution or her apartment, she was in usual shirt and jeans and now she was wearing traditional ones to cover herself.

"Of course. She is living here alone with five unknown men, Boss, in fear, with them staring at her each time they get the chance," He scoffed, glaring at his men and turning back to me.