Yamini turned slowly, taking it all in again.
She didn’t want this.
She didn’t want to owe Bharat Jogra anything.
Didn’t want another invisible thread tying her tighter to a man who was cold, distant, and yet impossibly perceptive.
He’s a control freak.
And yet the light, the space, the endless possibility, pulled at her.
“I’ll take it,” Yamini said suddenly.
Pooja squealed with excitement.
Zoya nodded, unfazed. “I’ll prepare the paperwork.”
They moved to a minimalist desk near the window. Zoya slid a sleek folder across.
Yamini scanned the agreement, her signature line waiting at the bottom. The price was undisclosed. Blank.
Her jaw tightened.
As she signed, pen scratching across the paper, a strange thought crossed her mind.
Was she just renting a studio… or signing away another piece of herself?
She capped the pen and pushed the folder back.
Pooja hugged her tightly. “Congratulations!”
Yamini smiled faintly.
Inside, she wondered if she had just taken another step deeper into the orbit of a coldhearted maharaja who knew exactly how to make her say yes—even when she wanted to say no.
CHAPTER 17
It was midnight when Rani Suchitra Devi returned from a charity auction.
The Rewa Palace gates opened immediately, and the guards snapped to attention as her car entered the sandstone courtyard. Warm golden lights glowed against carved pillars while fountains murmured softly in the distance.
Unlike the cold northern mountains of Jogra, the air in Rewa remained warm even at night. Jasmine drifted faintly through the courtyard gardens.
Mira waited at the top of the palace steps.
Despite the late hour, she looked exactly as she always did—neat, composed, efficient, and loyal in a way that had outlived scandals, weddings, political wars, and even deaths.
“Good evening, Rani Ma,” Mira said softly, taking Suchitra’s shawl before Suchitra even lifted it.
“Good evening,” Suchitra replied, walking inside. “Haven’t I told you not to wait up for me when it gets late?”
“You did,” Mira said with the smallest hint of amusement. “But you know I will always wait, especially when there is news I want to deliver personally.”
Suchitra allowed herself a brief smile. Mira was more than a decade younger than her, and the sisterly bond they shared was stronger than the one that bound them by blood.
They walked through long corridors lined with portraits of kings, queens, and generations of Rewa royalty. Her heels clicked softly against polished marble.
Tea waited in her private sitting room, steam curling upward beside a slim tablet resting on the low table.
