Page 18 of A Royal Deception

I rolled my eyes under the veil at her relief. Rani Sa grabbed my hand and tugged me upright, but I refused to take one step towards the door.

“You’re forgetting something, Rani Sa,” I said quietly.

“Are you going to carry the bag to the mandap?” she sneered.

I shook my head.

“Ask Zarna to come here,” I insisted, and Diggi Mausi sent someone to call my sister.

She looked worried as she entered the room.

“Where’s my sister, Mausi?” she asked, with a swift look around the room.

“Zarna, take this bag and keep it safe,” I said quickly. “And don’t give it to anyone, no matter who asks for it.”

Her eyes widened in shock when she realised it was I under the veil.

“Di, why are you dressed like that? Isn’t that Baisa’s wedding joda?”

“Hush now, I’ll explain everything later,” I replied. “Stay in our room, and don’t open the door for anyone. I’ll come and find you after the pheras, I promise.”

Rani Sa hustled me out of the room and led me downstairs as soon as I handed the bag over to Zarna.

It felt like she was leading me to my doom.

CHAPTER 7

RANVIJAY

Imoved to India from the US just two years ago, and it didn’t take me long to develop a formidable reputation as a legal shark and a fixer for the rich and famous of the country. People came to me to make their problems go away in a way that wouldn’t come back to bite them in the ass later. And I did. All because of my unfailing instincts.

Like a Golden Retriever sniffing out treats, I could sniff out the smallest signs of trouble.

And right now, my instincts weren’t whispering. They were shrieking that I was walking into a shit load of trouble.

When you were in my profession, you learnt to read a room. And what I was reading right now in Sajjangarh Palace was fear. Everyone was jumpy for some reason. My would-be mother-in-law was smiling too much. Far too much. And none of the smiles reached her eyes.

I didn’t know why the mandap felt more like a war zone than a happy place, but I didn’t like it one bit. It was a bit much whena man had to watch his back at his own wedding. I scanned the whole place carefully, wondering if the Goels had got in somehow despite the tight security, but I couldn’t find anything out of place.

Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe I was projecting my feelings about this marriage. Damn it! I was sick of all this drama. The sooner we got the farce over with, the sooner I could get back to my old life. No, there was no getting back to my old life, I realised. I wasn’t leaving this miserable place alone. I was going back with my wife. Bloody hell.

I glared at Sangram as he walked past me, looking very shifty. For his sake, I hoped he wasn’t looking for Shivina again. I’d turn this wedding into a Game of Thrones-inspired slash fest and behead him in the mandap right in front of all these people if he even looked in her direction.

When I remembered that I had last seen her on one of the balconies upstairs, I calmed down a little. She was safe there. I knew I shouldn’t have waved at her like that. I was about to marry another woman, for fuck’s sake. But I saw her peering out from over the edge of the balcony, and quite against my will, my hand went up in greeting. It was just a wave, I told myself. It didn’t mean anything.

But it had to stop because she made me smile. While Kavya didn’t. Which meant that I had to make sure I never set eyes on her after the wedding because I was not that guy. I refused to be that guy.

“What has that poor pandit done to you?” whispered Isha.

“Huh?” I grunted.

“You’re glaring at him like you’d like to tip him over into the havan kund. Stop it right now,” she hissed. “He’s about to run for his life, and if he runs off, how will you get married?”

For a wild, improbable moment, I wondered if that was the answer to all my troubles. Just chase off the priest and… andwhat? The Goels would still be baying for my blood. The Mirpur bloodline would still need an heir slightly more intelligent than Sangram. I sighed and toned down my glare until the pandit stopped shaking visibly.

“That’s better,” said Isha approvingly.

“Why are you torturing me?” I asked with a put-upon sigh. “Go torture someone else. Preferably your husband. He asked for it since he chose to marry you.”

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