Page 22 of Trapped By the Maharaja
She didn’t ask for his last name, and didn’t show a flicker of interest in anything beyond handing over the envelope.
“Take the money, Ram,” Sanjana said firmly, thrusting the envelope toward him again. Her hand brushed against his hard chest, but she quickly snatched her hand back as though she was struck by an electric shock.
He felt the sparks with her light touch as well.
“I don’t want your money,” he said. “I only want the coffee.”
She sucked in a deep breath, looking visibly annoyed. “Then you’ll have to keep waiting,” she snapped.
She strode away across the field without a backward glance, her long braid swishing around her petite figure.
Ram stood with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Sanjana. He knew he would see her again. And he also knew she would have coffee with him.
He would make sure of it.
CHAPTER 10
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.
