Page 63 of A Royal Deception

“Sorry, Diya. But I’m still not sure this will work.”

“Leave all that to me, and come try on some clothes while my assistant drafts out a contract for you. I’ll have it sent across to RV’s team, and you can sign it if they approve. We’re always open for negotiation, so feel free to add whatever terms you like.”

She was moving too fast for my taste. Hell, life was moving too fast for my taste. In just a couple of days, I had gone from maid to Maharani, and now, I was going to be a model. Life didn’t work like that. At least, mine didn’t. But I guess life worked differently for people with privilege, and now, through an act of deception, I was privileged too. It was strange that I was being rewarded for my deception instead of being punished for it.

The studio was built on two levels. Downstairs was the reception, a waiting area and Diya’s office. The fitting rooms were upstairs, with a huge runway ramp in the centre of the space. A balcony ran the length of the top floor, giving us a clear view of whatever was going on downstairs.

As Diya and I were discussing a schedule for fittings and photo shoots, Isha called out from below.

“Hellooooo? Anyone home?”

“Come on upstairs, babe. Shivina and I were about to order some lunch,” called Diya, rubbing her back uncomfortably.

* Traditional Marwari song that I found on the Instagram account of Yuvragini Rathore,The Wise Stories Of Rajasthan.

CHAPTER 23

RANVIJAY

Istared at the computer screen blankly. I should have been fine-tuning the NDA we had drafted for the staff of a luxury palace hotel that was hosting a high-profile Bollywood wedding. What with the wedding and working with the guys to stop the mafia menace, I had cut down on my work at the office, but it was time to pick up the slack now. My current task list was longer than my arm, and I was determined to get through all of it today.

If only I could focus on the words on my screen!

All I could think of was the way Shivina smelled and tasted and the pleasure of being buried inside her. The morning after we made love for the first time, I was eating breakfast in the courtyard with Ma while Shivina was still asleep. Out of nowhere, someone began singing a sweet Marwari song I’d never heard before, and I realised the sound was coming from Zarna’s room. It was Shivina, singing her sister awake.

That sound was now a regular part of our life, and we looked forward to hearing it. This morning, Shivina was humming as she made halwa-poori for breakfast, and her songs echoed through the house.

I looked at my mother and found her listening with a contented smile on her face, and I realised that life in our palace was just sweeter since Shivina and Zarna had moved in. Ma was happier; the staff was happier.

As for me, I found myself smiling at the oddest times as I thought about my wife, who was a bundle of contradictions. She was shy yet sassy. And she had a hidden obsession with weapons that bordered on the psychotic. The first time I took her out on the gun range, I had been worried she’d shoot herself in the foot, but she handled my weapons like she was born with a gun in her hand. Seeing her hitting every target with such ease tipped me over the edge, and I barely remembered locking the door to the armoury before I took her right there, standing up against the wall, surrounded by the smell of swords and gun oil.

The next night, she snuck me into the armoury after everyone was asleep and begged me to show her some sword skills. I had barely placed the sword back in the display case and locked it safely when Shivina dropped to her knees in front of me and reached out for my hard dick with a feral grin. Fuck me, but by a complete stroke of accident, I had gone and married a woman who was more warrior-like than anyone who was trained for it, and it only made me even more obsessed with her.

I groaned at the memory of her lush lips wrapped around my dick as she practically swallowed me whole. If I could, I’d cancel all my meetings right now and head home to spend the afternoon making love to my wife.

But I had to stay here in my office and do my job, and only pray that God rewarded me for my patience. A knock at my door brought me out of my reverie.

Veer rolled his eyes at me knowingly.

“Stop daydreaming about your wife, and come out for lunch.”

‘I thought you were working from home today.”

“Nah, man! Isha wants to spend some time with Diya and Shivina, so they are probably going out for lunch. And I don’t like to eat alone at home without my wife.”

Isha and Veer had moved into Gulab Mahal, the lovely little haveli she’d inherited from her uncle, which was ideally situated between Mirpur and Trikhera, which made meeting up with us very convenient for him.

My heart warmed at how the girls included Shivina in their group. And I was equally glad she had taken to them because my friends were very important to me. Devika had never liked them, which left me feeling isolated because she refused to spend any time with them while I had to spend a lot of time with her friends. It was an unequal relationship in every way.

Just then, Rajiv poked his head around the door.

“Your Highness, we’ve got a new date for the marriage registration.”

I thanked him and turned to Veer, who was staring at me quizzically.

“I had to file new papers for registering this wedding after the bride switch,” I explained.

I hesitated a little because I knew he was going to roast me for what I was about to say.

---