Page 87 of Trapped By the Maharaja

When Sanjana lifted her head, she found Suchitra Devi’s gaze on her. Calm. Regal. But edged with something else Sanjana couldn’t decipher.

???

After the main ceremony inside the sanctum had ended, the head priest instructed Ram and Sanjana on one final ritual to offer flowers at the ancient pond on the temple’s southern edge.

Suchitra Devi and Ram’s brothers left the temple grounds to fly to the nearby village, where a formal welcome was being planned.

Sanjana walked on the stone path with Ram’s hand resting on her back. She held a round silver plate with white lotuses, roses, marigolds, and jasmine flowers, along with small earthen lamps.

The temple pond appeared ahead, the still green waters reflecting the overhanging banyan trees. A narrow stone platform extended out over the surface.

The head priest murmured instructions, and together they stepped onto the platform. Sanjana knelt and lit the earthen lamps on the silver tray, and set her offering afloat. She watched as the flowers and lamps drifted across the water. Beside her, Ram released his own offering, the ripples mingling with hers until the flowers were indistinguishable.

The head priest recited the final mantra and nodded for them to rise. Ram reached for her hand to steady her on the narrow, slippery stones. Just as she began climbing the steps, a flicker of movement behind Ram caught her eye.

A man broke from the shadow of the banyan grove, coming in purposeful strides toward them. She knew he wasn’t a priest, but just as she wondered if he was a temple attendant, she saw him holding something in his hand.

Her heart thudded when he raised his hands, and she caught the glint of steel flashing in the sunlight.

“Ram!” she gasped.

Ram reacted instantly. He turned and caught the man’s wrist mid-strike.

The attacker twisted, snarling, trying to bring the blade around again, but Ram’s other hand shot up, gripping the man’s throat. They staggered across the platform, the stone slippery beneath their feet, the knife flashing dangerously close.

Sanjana’s pulse pounded in her ears. “Ram!”

He didn’t look at her, and his focus was absolute. With a sudden twist, he slammed the man’s knife arm down against the stone ledge. The attacker shouted in pain, the weapon clattering into the pond with a heavy splash.

The man’s free hand clawed at Ram’s arm, but Ram drove his shoulder forward, unbalancing him. In one fluid movement, he hooked his leg behind the man’s and wrenched him sideways, sending him crashing onto the platform with a sickening thud.

Before the attacker could rise, Ram’s fist came down hard, each strike brutal and efficient. The man’s head sagged, consciousness gone.

Footsteps thundered along the path. She saw Ram’s security team sprinting at full speed. Two of them seized the attacker’s limp form, hauling him up by the arms. The man’s head lolled forward, his face hidden from Sanjana’s view.

“Take him and interrogate him,” Ram ordered.

“Yes, sir.” The guards dragged the man away.

Sanjana’s heart pounded in fear and shock.

Ram stepped toward her, his expression grim. Without a word, he took her hand in a firm, unyielding grip and led her back along the shaded path.

“Who was he?” she asked. “Why did he attack you?”

Ram said nothing.

By the time they reached the landing area, the helicopter’s rotors were already beginning to turn. Ram helped her in without releasing his hold, then settled opposite her as the door shut.

Sanjana clasped her trembling hands in her lap, but when her eyes lifted to Ram’s face, the raw fury in his eyes made her shiver. She knew the anger wasn’t directed at her. It was for whoever dared to attack.

As the engine roared to life and the ground fell away beneath them, the truth settled in her chest. Ram wasn’t just her ex-boyfriend to whom she was bound by a marriage contract. He was also a powerful maharaja who had enemies.

CHAPTER 38

Just as the helicopter dipped lower, Sanjana looked toward the window, expecting the familiar sprawl of the Devara Palace grounds. Instead, her breath caught.

Below, a village stretched out with hundreds of people filling the open square. As the chopper descended, dust rose in the air.