Page 39 of Trapped By the Maharaja

Sanjana woke up to the faint sound of a helicopter leaving.

She blinked slowly and looked at the vast expanse of the bed.

The sheets were cool where Ram had lain, but traces of him remained in the scent of citrus and sandalwood.

Her breath caught when she saw small smudges of blood near the pillow.

Heat flooded her cheeks, realizing Ram must have reopened the injury on his back during the night.

The memories of the night flooded her mind. The raw encounter on the marble countertop and the passion-filled night that followed. She hated how easily she had surrendered instead of fighting him.

With a sharp exhale, she pushed the thoughts aside and sat up straighter.

The day ahead was going to be difficult enough without replays of the night.

She had to walk into the hospital knowing that, after the royal announcement, every pair of eyes would be on her.

She could already imagine the curious glances and the whispered gossip in the corridors. Her stomach tightened with annoyance.

She would no longer be recognized as just Dr. Shetty. She would be known as the Devara Maharaja’s wife.

She showered and dressed quickly, choosing a simple yet elegant red dress and minimal jewelry. It was an attempt to blend in, though she knew it would do little good.

When she entered the breakfast room, she froze. She thought Ram had left for the city when she heard the sound of the helicopter that morning.

But he was seated at the head of the long table, looking utterly composed and commanding in a charcoal-colored suit. His eyes were on the phone in his hand, but sensing her presence, he looked up.

Her cheeks heated as she remembered the feel of his fingers biting into her hips and the low command in his voice when he told her to come. She had obeyed without protest or a fight.

Taking in a deep breath, she sat on the chair next to him.

“Has Suchitra Devi eaten already?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

“My mother and brothers left early this morning,” he replied.

Her stomach dropped, and heat flared in her cheeks. He hadn’t woken her up again. Not even to see his family off. Suchitra Devi’s disapproval of her would deepen further.

“You should have woken me, Ram!” she said.

He looked at her. “You needed the rest.”

Her cheeks burned, and she looked down. She did need proper rest since she had a long day. But still, she was annoyed by his arrogant assumption.

They ate in silence for several minutes, the clink of cutlery the only sound. Then Ram broke the silence.

“From today, you’ll have more guards with you at the hospital,” he said.

Her head snapped up. “That’s not necessary. The hospital already has security.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “It’s not up for debate.”

She put her spoon down, her anger rising. “You can’t just control my—”

“I can,” he cut in smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “After what happened yesterday, you’re not stepping into the hospital without proper security.”

Her jaw tightened. “The attack was on you,” she said. “No one cares about me. I’m not that important.”

His brow arched. “You are important because you are the Devara Maharani.”

She glared at him, knowing he was right. Her life was going to be irrevocably changed, thanks to the ruthless Devara Maharaja.