Rajesh’s throat worked as though he wanted to argue, but he only nodded. “I just… I just don’t want you to be blindsided. You’ve been through so much already, Sanjana.”
She offered him a small smile. “Don’t worry about me, Rajesh. I’ll be fine.”
He studied her for a moment, then finally nodded, though unease lingered in his expression as he left the lounge.
When the door closed, Sanjana set the cup down and leaned back in her chair, letting out a breath.
She wasn’t worried about Sania Kolli or Dr. Rao or what would happen at the board meeting the next day.
Her biggest worry was not to give in to the dangerous allure of a ruthless maharaja who had her trapped.
CHAPTER 22
The city skyline stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Ram’s office. His assistants stood in formation near the conference table, Armaan leading the briefing, tablet in hand.
“Your eleven o’clock is the quarterly review with Regent’s international division. Legal is finalizing the trust paperwork for the pediatric wing. You’re also due for a closed-door strategy session with the Crosslink investors tomorrow, and—”
Ram’s phone vibrated once on his desk. One name flashed across the screen: Amma.
Without a word, he raised a hand, signaling his team to stop.
Armaan paused mid-sentence.
Ram looked up, expression unreadable. “Leave.”
Immediately, his assistants nodded, gathered their tablets, and stepped out, closing the heavy door behind them with a soft click.
Only when the room was silent again did Ram take the call.
“Amma,” he greeted calmly.
“Good morning, Ram,” his mother’s voice replied, smooth, elegant, but edged with authority.
He leaned back in his chair, one arm resting on the polished wood, the other holding the phone loosely to his ear.
“Has your bride settled into the palace?”
“She’s adjusting,” Ram said neutrally.
There was a pause. “I see.” His mother’s voice cooled, tinged with disapproval.
She continued. “As you must recall, I have an event planned in two weeks at the Devara Palace. The one intended to formally introduce the eligible royal princesses to you.”
Ram didn’t reply.
“Well,” his mother added dryly, “since you’ve already chosen your bride, we’ll use the same event for a different purpose. Sanjana will be introduced as your wife. I will not let the media speculate or let rumors circulate on the presence of a young, female doctor living in the Devara Palace.”
“I understand,” Ram said.
“Good. I’ll have the palace staff coordinate with the event team.”
She didn’t wait for approval.
When the call ended, Ram set the phone down and sat in silence, looking at the city stretched outside the window.
Most of his life, even during his childhood, he had been pursued relentlessly due to his royal title. Women threw themselves at him everywhere, hoping to share his name, his palace, and his wealth.
But not Sanjana.