Page 123 of Trapped By the Maharaja
The two men locked eyes, cousins bound by blood but divided by hatred.
Rishan’s laughter was hollow. “You always thought you were better than me. The chosen heir. The perfect Maharaja. But you’re not untouchable, Ram. Not this time.” His grip tightened on Sanjana, making her wince.
Ram lowered his chin slightly, his gaze never leaving Rishan’s face. “Listen to me carefully. There’s still a way out for you. Let her go, and I’ll see to it that you leave here alive. You’ll be banished from Devara forever, but you’ll breathe. Test me, and your body will be unrecognizable when my men are through with you.”
Behind Ram, the security team circled slowly, their weapons raised but waiting for his command. The hum of the helicopter’s blades outside made the silence inside the warehouse even heavier.
Rishan sneered, but Sanjana felt the faint quiver in his hold. He wasn’t as sure of himself as he pretended.
“Banished?” Rishan scoffed. “You think I’ll settle for exile when the throne should be mine? Your mother is a whore. She married four times. There are valid sources that say she was pregnant with another man’s child when she married my uncle. You are not the Devara heir. I am.”
Sanjana’s heart thudded at what Rishan was saying. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Ram resembled his late father in appearance. Ram was the true Devara heir.
Rage flashed in Ram’s eyes at Rishan’s words. Sanjana knew Ram loved his mother deeply and wouldn’t withstand anyone calling her names or throwing allegations against her.
But he visibly controlled himself from attacking Rishan. He took a slow step forward, his voice steady, deliberate. “Let Sanjana go, and you can still walk away alive, Rishan.”
Sanjana’s heart pounded. Ram was exerting immense control because of her.
“You’re lying,” Rishan said, pressing the knife closer. Sanjana felt the sting against her skin, her breath hitching.
“Look at me,” Ram ordered. His voice dropped into a low growl, commanding, implacable. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be on the floor. The only thing keeping you alive right now is her. Let her go, and I’ll give you exile instead of a grave.”
The tension thickened. Sanjana could feel Rishan’s indecision, the trembling in his arm, the uneven rhythm of his breath.
Her pulse hammered. Inhaling a deep breath, she slammed her head back until her skull hit Rishan’s injured nose. There was a shout of agony and the knife wavered against her throat.
Ram lunged. His hand closed over Rishan’s wrist. The knife clattered to the ground, the sound ringing through the warehouse. Rishan let out a guttural scream as Ram twisted his arm behind his back with brutal precision.
“Sanjana, now!” Ram barked.
She stumbled forward as Hari and two other bodyguards pulled her safely behind.
Rishan screamed as Ram slammed him against the warehouse floor, his forearm pressing across Rishan’s throat.
Rishan thrashed beneath Ram’s weight, his face turning nearly purple as Ram’s forearm pinned hard against his throat. Guttural sounds escaped his throat while his legs kicked weakly against the concrete floor.
Sanjana’s chest clenched in panic. Ram looked like a man possessed with his dark eyes burning with murderous rage.
“Ram!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Stop—you’ll kill him!”
For a moment, Ram didn’t move. He glared down at Rishan, his breathing sharp and harsh, his body rigid with fury. Then, slowly, he pulled his arm away, allowing Rishan to gasp for air.
But Ram wasn’t finished.
His fist came down hard. Once. Twice. Blood sprayed across the floor as Rishan’s head snapped back.
“This is for daring to touch my wife,” Ram snarled, his voice raw with rage. Another punch landed, crunching into bone. “And this is for disrespecting my mother.”
His fist rose again. “And this is for every year Sanjana and I remained apart.”
Blow after blow rained down, each one brutal, each one years of contained fury unleashed at once. Sanjana flinched with every strike, torn between relief and fear, but she couldn’t look away.
Finally, Ram drew back for the last time, his knuckles split and raw, his chest heaving. His voice dropped, guttural, trembling with the force of emotion.
The silence afterward was deafening.
Rishan lay motionless on the floor, his face a bloody, swollen mess, blood pooling beneath him. He didn’t stir. His breaths were shallow as he remained unconscious.
