Page 10 of Trapped By the Maharaja

Two days. That’s how long it's been since Ram Devara walked back into her life, turning it upside down.

Now, as she stood in the glass elevator of the Devara Tower, flanked by two bodyguards, Sanjana could barely contain her anger. The sleek, black folder rested in her hand, the Devara crest glinting gold beneath the elevator lights.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floor.

Sanjana stepped into a luxury lobby. Despite her anger, she noticed the marble floors, veined gold walls, and tall trees that didn’t appear fake. She knew they must be real. The air smelled like power and money. A world she didn’t belong to.

The guards led her to the black lacquered doors with the Devara logo. One of the guards opened the doors without a word.

Sucking in a deep breath, she stepped into the lion’s den.

The office was massive with glass, polished wood, and marble in perfect symmetry. It was cold and imposing, every corner screaming wealth and power, just like the owner.

Her eyes found him immediately, and she felt her breath hitch as their eyes locked.

Ram stood by the glass wall, hands in his pockets. The city skyline stretched behind him. Despite the casual stance, he looked like a predator waiting for his prey.

There was no warmth in his gaze. Just cold ruthlessness. She met his eyes with a challenge.

A throat cleared beside her.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Shetty,” a man greeted cautiously.

Sanjana dragged her eyes off Ram and saw the group of people seated at the conference table.

She recognized the man who had been with Ram two days ago in the hospital conference room. She knew he must be Ram’s assistant.

“Please have a seat, Dr. Shetty,” Ram’s assistant said.

Sanjana nodded stiffly before walking toward the long table. She sat and placed the black folder, which held the contract, on the table.

“Dr. Shetty, I am Armaan, and this is the legal counsel appointed to finalize the agreement,” Ram’s assistant said. “We will make the necessary edits and prepare it for your signature.”

The legal counsel consisted of two women.

One around her age and another middle-aged.

But unlike her, they were both dressed in tailored charcoal suits that fit their bodies like armor.

They had manicured nails and expressions that didn’t betray a single emotion.

But she saw the subtle yet quick sweep of their eyes on her clothing.

She knew they felt she didn’t belong in the room, let alone be the prospective bride to a rich, powerful royal.

“Dr. Shetty,” the older lawyer said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m Reema Chaudhary, senior legal advisor to the Devara Trust. This is my colleague, Ananya Sen.

Sanjana nodded.

“We’ll walk you through the contract again,” Reema said. “As discussed, the terms are negotiable, but His Highness’s requirements are clear: a temporary marriage, a legally recognized heir within the stipulated timeframe, and complete discretion.”

Sanjana’s gaze didn’t waver as she looked directly at the two lawyers. Her voice was steady and cool. “If I refuse?”

Reema Chaudhary hesitated for just a beat, exchanging a glance with Ananya before replying.

“Then His Highness is under no further obligation. However, as per our understanding of the situation, your position at the hospital will be reconsidered, and any ongoing legal complications involving you and your colleagues... may proceed without further intervention.”

The unspoken threat hung heavy in the air.

“What if I get the contract published in all news channels and gossip magazines?” Sanjana asked. “The Devara Maharaja wanting a contract marriage to produce an heir is quite shocking to the public. I’m sure I would make enough money for me not to work again in my lifetime.”

The silence that followed Sanjana’s threat was long and tense.

Reema’s pen slipped from her hand. Ananya blinked hard, and Ram’s assistant’s poised expression faltered just long enough to reveal the flash of panic beneath.

“You… can’t do that, Dr. Shetty,” Reema said, though her voice had lost some of its practiced confidence.

Sanjana leaned forward, her elbows on the table, voice low and precise. “Why can’t I?” she challenged.

“Because being a doctor who saves lives is your passion,” Ram’s deep voice replied. “No amount of money can replace what you truly love.”

Sanjana turned sharply toward Ram. He watched her coldly.

“You don’t know me anymore,” she gritted. “Do you want to risk being on the news and gossip magazines?”

His mouth twisted into a dark smile. “Yes, I would risk it.”

Sanjana clenched her fists on top of the table. She was so sure she could use the threat to get him to back away. But instead, he met her challenge head-on.

He knew she could never trade her passion for saving lives for money.

Damn you, Ram.

But she wasn’t ready to give up the fight. She had to fight to escape from the unholy contract.

“What if I am unable to have children within the three years?” she asked. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to marry a royal woman, preferably someone much younger who is in their early twenties?”

Ram's gaze remained steady on her. “I don’t want anyone else. I already made my decision and I picked you to have my heir.”

Sanjana’s breath caught in her throat. She was reminded of the time when he had spoken those words in the past. At that time, it was a love confession. Or so she had thought.

She knew better now.

“You are a ruthless bastard,” she gritted.

Ram didn’t say anything. The room was silent for a long, tense moment.

“Fine. Let’s negotiate the terms,” she spat.

There was a dark flash of victory in his eyes. She knew he thought he had won, but she was determined not to make it easy for him.

Sanjana dragged her gaze away from Ram’s face. The legal counsel and assistant sat frozen, as though unable to believe someone dared to call the Devara Maharaja a ruthless bastard.

Sanjana took a breath and raised her chin. “First, I will continue working at the hospital. Full-time. My duties as a doctor triumph over everything else.”

The lawyers hesitated, glancing at Ram. He gave a curt nod.

Sanjana was annoyed that he didn’t argue.

“Second,” Sanjana continued, her voice firmer, “A significant sum will be donated to upgrade the hospital, especially the pediatric wing. Equipment, beds, specialist training. I want it to become one of the best in the region.”

Ram’s assistant blinked. “Dr. Shetty, a significant sum is already being—”

“I want it in writing,” Sanjana cut in. “A legally binding clause in the contract.”

“And third,” she added, “a percentage of all surgeries, at least twenty-five percent, will be reserved for children from low-income families. No fees. Completely free.”

Silence fell in the room.

“That may not be feasible without board approval…” Reema began cautiously.

Sanjana knew it would cost a significant amount to upgrade the hospital and also offer free surgeries to low-income families.

She heard the soft scrape of a chair.

She looked up.

Ram had moved. He stepped away from the glass wall, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the conference table. His dark eyes met hers.

“Done,” he said.

Sanjana blinked, caught off guard by the quick agreement.

He continued, voice calm, “The donation and free surgeries will be routed through a new foundation wing under your supervision.”

Sanjana was too stunned. She knew it would cost quite a lot to fund a new wing and free surgeries for low-income families. It was something that had been her long-held dream, which she didn’t think she would be able to fulfill until after many decades of work.

It was then that she realized Ram was rich enough to afford anything and everything easily, including her.

Clenching her jaw, she stared at him. “My next condition is that I will give you a child… but only through IVF.”

There was a dark flash in his eyes. “No,” he said. “It will be a natural conception.”

Sanjana’s face flushed with shock and fury. “Why not? All you want is a legal heir from a temporary marriage.”

Ram walked toward her slowly, stopping just a breath too close. “I won’t have my child conceived in a lab.”

Her cheeks burned. “IVF is safe, reliable, and private. Chances of me conceiving are higher with IVF.”

His eyes didn’t flinch. “No.”

Anger flared in her chest. “You can’t just—”

“Our child will be conceived naturally,” he stated.

Sanjana’s entire face flushed, not just from anger but the embarrassment of discussing something so intimate in front of the lawyers and his assistant.

Despite trying to keep neutral looks on their faces, Sanjana could see their shock.

Sanjana wanted to slap Ram once again, but she held herself back. She didn’t want to show him any weakness.

“Anything else?” Ram asked coolly.

“No,” she gritted.

“Then my lawyers will go over the rest of the contract and have the new version ready for you to sign,” he stated.

Sanjana clenched her hands as Ram’s legal team organized their materials.

One of the lawyers cleared her throat and began reading.

“As outlined in Section 1,” Reema Choudhary said smoothly, “this marriage will be recognized legally under the jurisdiction of the Devara Royal Trust. The duration of the marriage is to be a minimum of three years or until a viable heir is born and legally registered as the successor of House Devara, whichever comes first.”

Sanjana’s jaw tensed, but she said nothing.

“Section 2,” Reema continued, “stipulates that Dr. Sanjana Shetty will be compensated with a monthly stipend for the duration of the marriage. Additionally, a trust fund will be established in her name, to be transferred upon the successful birth of the heir.”

Reema stated the amounts of the monthly stipend and the trust fund, shocking Sanjana. It was a fortune. Even the monthly stipend was as much as what Sanjana earned the entire year.

“Section 3 outlines living arrangements. Dr. Shetty will be required to reside with His Highness Ram Devara at all times during the term of the contract to ensure privacy, safety, and media protection.”

“And Section 4,” Reema resumed, glancing briefly at Sanjana, “details the confidentiality clause. Breach of this clause, whether it is via interviews, written publication, social media, or unapproved communication with media outlets, will result in legal action and immediate forfeiture of all financial compensation.”

“Section 5…” the lawyer’s voice turned cautious, “states that the child, upon birth, will be registered under the House of Devara, with full inheritance and title rights. Dr. Shetty will be recognized as the mother but will have no authority to influence succession-related governance, education, or religious affiliation decisions without written consent from the Trust.”

Sanjana's nails dug into her palms.

The lawyer cleared her throat briefly. “Section 6 covers physical arrangements. His Highness has stipulated natural conception. IVF or any alternative medical methods are excluded unless recommended by a royal-appointed physician after one year of unsuccessful attempts.”

Sanjana’s face burned, but her expression didn’t change.

“And finally,” the lawyer concluded, “Dr. Shetty is permitted to continue your medical practice under agreed terms, with her working hours and hospital duties protected under clause seven. A joint Devara Trust–funded foundation will be created in Dr. Shetty’s name for pediatric services, to be publicly announced post-marriage. ”

Sanjana was furious. Everything had been thought through. Every angle sealed. Even her dreams and aspirations had been put into the agreement. Ram had studied every corner of her soul and weaponized it.

Thick silence followed. The only sound was the soft tick of the designer wall clock and the buzz of blood in her ears.

“I would like to speak with Sanjana alone,” Ram stated.

Ram’s assistant got up immediately. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“We’ll prepare the final draft and have it ready for Dr. Shetty to sign in a few minutes,” the senior lawyer said.

The assistant and the legal team excused themselves and left the office. Sanjana remained seated, her heart beating furiously.

“Why are you doing this, Ram?” she asked.

Ram’s gaze remained steady. “You owe it to me,” he replied.

Anger erupted inside her. “I don’t owe you anything!” she hissed. “Just because I chose—”

He cut her off. “It’s already done,” he said. “You will sign the contract as agreed.”

She shook her head. “I agreed because you aren’t giving me a choice!”

“Everyone has a choice, Sanjana.”

“Leaving me with a choice to ruin other people’s careers along with mine isn’t a choice!” she spat.

“It is a choice, and you chose the better option that will benefit us both.”

She knew he wouldn’t change his mind. He was too determined to ruin her.

“Do you really want to bring an innocent life into this?” she asked. “A child born out of mutual animosity and hatred?”

Something flashed in his eyes. She thought she got to him until he spoke.

“You love children,” he said. “You won’t hate our child.”

She knew he was right. She would never hate a child, even if it was his.

“You’ll regret this, Ram,” she gritted.

He leaned close, his shadow falling over her. Her pulse spiked in fury and something she refused to name.

“I have regretted a lot of things when it comes to you,” he said darkly. “But this contract marriage won’t be one.”

Her heart raced at his words. But before she could reply, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Ram commanded.

It was the lawyers and the assistant returning with the contract.

Sanjana’s heart thudded as the freshly printed contract was placed in front of her.

“Please review and sign, Dr. Shetty,” the lawyer said.

Sanjana stared at the contract. She was tempted to rip it into pieces. But she knew Ram would simply get another copy printed. She also knew the consequences of not signing the contract. Ram was ruthless to do just as he had threatened.

Her hands never shook even during the most critical surgeries, but they trembled right then as she picked up the shiny pen and signed her name on the contract.

As soon as she placed the pen aside, Ram’s assistant took the contract as though he was worried she would tear it apart or cause another scene.

“Thank you, Dr. Shetty,” Reema Choudhary said with a barest hint of relief in her voice. “The contract is now legally binding. We’ll give you a copy as well.”

Sanjana’s eyes flew to Ram’s face. She expected to see victory, but he watched her with an unreadable look.

“When will the wedding take place?” she asked, hoping she could change his mind by then.

“Tomorrow,” he replied. “I know that it’s your day off at the hospital.”

Her breath caught. Tomorrow. Less than a day to surrender her life. His gaze held hers, dark and steady, as if daring her to defy him one last time.

“My team will get in touch with you for the wedding preparations,” he stated coolly as though he was discussing a business deal.

Sanjana realized it was a business deal for him. His life would remain unchanged, while hers would be changed forever.