Page 11 of Surprise Bratva Daddy
The cigar smoke wafts into my nostrils, and it doesn't smell awful like the cigarillos people outside the gas station people are always smoking. It's much more pleasant, rich and fragrant, like a woody forest in the springtime.
Zane turns his head, blowing a puff of smoke toward the window, and that's when I realize I've been staring for too long. My cheeks flush as I try to come up with a reason to explain my actions, but there isn't one.
I shouldn't find this man attractive. He's dangerous, and he's holding me captive.
And yet, I can't help but wonder what might happen between us. He hasn't threatened to kill me since we've gotten into the car, and I'm frightfully aware of how much of his side is pressed against mine. He doesn't have to be this close, but he is. I feel like he's going to place his hand on my thigh at any moment, and then I won't know what to do. Would I slap him or simply relent to his power?
My thoughts are a jumbled mess. I can't believe what's happened today. I'm so lucky to be alive.
"Are you comfortable?" Zane asks, glancing over at me.
I look up at him, startled by his sudden question. "As comfortable as I can be, considering I'm a prisoner."
He chuckles. "I wouldn't call you a prisoner, darling."
"I would."
"Fine," he growls, taking a deep drag of his cigar. "Be that way. I'll call you a prisoner if you want. But at least I'm not letting you rot in some jail cell while we figure this all out. You should thank me for what I've done for you. Maksim would've killed you. I have allowed you to continue existing."
"Oh, yes," I snap. "Thank you so much. I wouldn't want to fall into the hands of the wrong bad guy. You're the good bad guy, though, right?"
Zane smiles. "I like your sarcasm, darling."
I glare at him, crossing my arms.
"You're a smart one. A smart ass, I should say," he teases. "But seriously, you can trust me. You won't come to any harm with me, provided you tell me everything. I can make things very good for you. I will show you what I mean when we get to my house."
"I thought you said you were taking me to your office."
"I am, but first I want to process you."
"What does that mean?" I ask, my heart leaping into my throat.
A smirk pulls up one side of his mouth, and he takes a few more puffs from his cigar before answering. "You'll see, darling. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."
I roll my eyes and turn away from him.
"Look at me," he says.
I obey, but not without a huff.
"Do you like the cigar?" he asks. "It's Cuban. Very expensive. They don't allow them in the States."
I shrug. "I wouldn't know. Never had one."
"You never had one? I'll change that," he says, reaching into his jacket and producing another, which he promptly lights with a match.
The tip glows a bright orange before he blows out the flame and hands it to me. "Don't worry. It's not like cigarettes. It won't kill you. I think you'll like it. Just be careful not to inhale too hard."
"If you say so," I reply, hesitantly accepting the cigar. I feel like I should just play along with him, as long as he's not trying to get me to do anything dangerous. Getting on his good side is going to save me a lot of misery later on. Besides, he seems to enjoy the banter a little too much. I don't want him to get the idea that I'm secretly flirting with him.
I lift the cigar to my lips and take a quick puff, immediately regretting it.
"That was a weak puff," Zane says, laughing. "Put your mouth around it like this."
He demonstrates, and the tip of the cigar turns a bright shade of orange as he sucks on it. Then, he lifts his head and lets out a stream of smoke, his face illuminated by the glowing ember.
"Like that," he says. "Not too hard. Just suck on it a bit."
