A Royal Deception (Reluctant Royals #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

RANVIJAY

I t was a sad day when a man wasn’t safe in his own palace. The last time the Dodiyas of Sajjangarh had invaded Mirpur Palace, my ancestors had blown the bastards to bits. It was a pity I couldn’t do the same to this lot. I had to grit my teeth and smile in welcome because I was marrying their daughter.

I must have done something really bad in some past life to deserve this fate. Not once. But twice.

My best friends and fellow royals, Randheer and Ranveer, were poster boys for a happy marriage. That was because they had the good fortune to marry two amazing women. Not that those idiots had any hand in it. The only reason they were happily married was because my mother, Her Highness Nandini Devi, had deemed it wise to stick her nose where it didn’t belong and find wonderful brides for two of the biggest morons this side of the Aravalli. Meanwhile, what did she do to her only son?

She found me a woman I could never love because she was practically a photocopy of my first wife, Devika. Blue-blooded and cold-hearted. I knew I should thank Ma for choosing Kavya to be my bride because there was no place in my life for love. I was marrying her purely out of duty. To make sure my palace didn’t fall into the wrong hands.

Speaking of which, why was my fool of a cousin, Sangram, following the bridal party around like a lamb?

I put out a hand and grabbed his arm as he walked past me.

“Eeeee,” he squealed. “Why are you hiding behind the palm tree, Bhai Sa? You gave me such a shock!”

I shook my head in disgust. This was the man who was eyeing my gaddi in the throne room. He didn’t even deserve to be around it, let alone on it.

“I’m not hiding. I’m observing the proceedings from a vantage point. Like our ancestors did,” I said grandly. “Now, spit it out. What are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything,” he said defensively. “I’m just helping to welcome the bride’s side.”

“Don’t get too comfortable in my home,” I growled, and Sangram quailed visibly.

Before I could grill him some more, his mother called him over, and he scurried away in relief. I resolved to keep an eye on him because he had that same squirrely look that he used to get when he used to try and steal my good whiskey during our Diwali parties. The one I kept hidden in a vault in my study.

“Why are you hiding, RV? It’s your own fucking engagement party!” exclaimed Ranveer, coming up behind me.

“I’m not hiding,” I said for the second time in as many minutes. “Rajputs don’t hide from the enemy. They attack!”

“But the Dodiyas aren’t your enemies. They are your in-laws,” he pointed out.

“Even worse,” I muttered, taking a swig of my twenty-four-year-old single malt. I relished the burn as it slid down my throat. “What’s happening on the politics front, Ranveer? Do you want me to call Chandel and grovel on your behalf?”

“Do you even know how to grovel?” he asked drily, leaning against the parapet.

My engagement party was being held on the massive terrace that connected all the wings of my palace. I had to hand it to my mother. She had organised a wonderful party practically overnight. I didn’t know if the Dodiyas thought I was a flight risk for some reason, but our wedding was chat-mangni, pat-byah on steroids.

Ma and I visited them last week, and they found an appropriate muhurat as soon as we agreed to the marriage. It was as if even the fates were conspiring to get me hitched as soon as possible. One look at Ranveer’s face told me that it might actually be a good thing. He didn’t look like a man who was willing to grovel until he got his political career back on track. He looked like a man who had just blown his career to bits and didn’t give a fuck because he was going to war.

“I’ll learn, man,” I said gruffly. “For your sake, I’ll even learn to grovel. Because I don’t want to see that big head getting blown off just as you found your happy ever after.”

Veer clapped me on the back and let out a bleak laugh.

“There’s no going back, dude. At least not for Dheer and me. Ayush Goel is baying for our blood. Meanwhile, I’ve sworn to clean up my lands just like Dheer cleaned up Trikhera. I will not allow the mafia to terrorise my people anymore,” he swore. “But you have nothing to do with any of this. I think it’s best you stay out of this. Don’t put your career and life at risk over our dreams.”

“You need me to bail you and Dheer out of jail, asshole,” I replied. “You need a shark of a lawyer on your side if you’re planning to take on the mafia. Especially if you’re getting down and dirty and fighting at their level. Besides, I kind of liked how we got rid of the cocaine lab in Trikhera. It was exhilarating to fight for what we believed right.”

“Damn! Maybe Kirori Ji was right after all. War-mongering does run in our blood. But this isn’t just your decision, Ranvijay. You need to find out if your bride is okay with you running around blowing up drug labs in the desert. She might feel differently, and rightfully so,” he reasoned.

I stroked my chin thoughtfully as I pondered this extraordinary point.

“I haven’t given any thought to her reaction,” I admitted. “Although I did tell her that I’d appreciate it if she didn’t interfere in my life beyond a point. She might be my wife, but my personal life is out of bounds to her.”

“Ranvijay,” exclaimed someone wrathfully from behind Veer.

I peered around him to find his pint-sized wife, Isha, glaring up at me.

“Whaat?” I asked in confusion.

“I’m not sure what you guys are talking about because I just got here, but if a guy said that to me, I’d never marry him,” she snarled.

“Umm, you will not be marrying anyone ever again, thank you very much,” said her husband sternly. “You’re married. To me. And don’t you forget it.”

Isha blew him a kiss, but her smile turned into a glare as she faced me again.

“That is such a chauvinistic thing to say to your future wife,” she scolded.

“But I promised not to interfere in her life either,” I argued.

“That’s even worse,” she said with disgust. “What kind of marriage is this?”

“The kind that’s none of your business, shortcake,” I said loftily. “My bride and I know exactly what we’re getting into.”

“RV, when you say ‘my bride’ like that, you make her sound like… like a thing. Like an idea instead of a real person,” Isha replied softly. “But she is real. With real feelings and needs. Say her name when you talk about her.”

“Umm… fine!” I said irritably.

But when I tried to say my bride’s name, my mind went blank. Completely blank. I knew she was a Dodiya of Sajjangarh. But what was her bloody name? How the hell did I forget the name of the woman I was supposed to marry, I wondered in a blind panic. What was wrong with me?

I closed my eyes and tried to think of her face. Her features. Anything that would remind me. But when I closed my eyes, the image that came to my mind was not that of the woman I was supposed to marry. It was someone who was completely out of bounds. I opened my eyes hastily and swallowed over the dryness in my throat.

Isha and Veer were staring at me in surprise.

“Kavya,” prompted Veer with a fake cough and flinched when his wife turned her solar-strength glare on him.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember your own fiancée’s name. Very badly done, Ranvijay,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment.

It wasn’t what she was thinking. I wasn’t such a heartless bastard towards the woman I was supposed to marry in two days. But Kavya Dodiya was a blank wall who very obviously didn’t care about me either. She was marrying me only for the title and my wealth, and she couldn’t hide it, no matter how much she tried. And I was glad she wasn’t coming into this with stars in her eyes. I was glad because that meant I wouldn’t break her heart with my indifference.

“So when do I get to meet this Ramya?” asked Isha.

“The rituals are about to begin. I’m sure Ramya will be out soon,” I replied, taking care to say her name.

“ Kavya , not Ramya,” exclaimed Isha. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Fuck! I’d done it again. What the fuck was wrong with me?

“You tricked me,” I accused her. “Your wife is a menace, Ranveer.”

“That she is,” he said proudly.

The way they smiled at each other was nauseating. I took a sip of whiskey and chanted my fiancée’s name silently, hoping to etch it into my brain.

Ramya… fuck no! Kavya!

Just then, Sangram came slinking up to us with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Bhai Sa, Kavya Bhabhi’s family is lovely! Absolutely lovely! Especially their old manager’s daughter. She seems a little shy. Do you think you could introduce us?”

Before I could think about what I was doing, I reached out and grabbed his collar with one hand and pulled him closer to growl into his frightened little, weaselly face.

“If you so much as look at Shivina, I will pluck your eyes out, you little rodent. You will treat her with as much respect as you treat the Dodiya family. You will not harass the staff. Is that clear?”

He nodded once and let out a whimper of assent. I set him down and smoothed out his collar.

“I’m just being friendly,” he whined. “You don’t have to threaten me like I’m a sex pest.”

“That’s exactly what you are, Sangram Singh Rathore,” said Isha fiercely. “And if I see you anywhere near that girl, I will kick you in the samosas just like I did when we were fifteen.”

Sangram sneered at her, but when she took one step closer to him, he took off like a rocket. I sighed because I knew his mother was going to complain to mine, which meant I was in for a very uncomfortable conversation with my mother.

“Samosas? Why did you have to ruin samosas for me?” complained Veer.

“Suck it up, Lajwanti,” she retorted. “Now, I want to see this Shivina. Somebody point her out to me quickly!”

“Why?” I asked, tensing at the thought of anyone picking on her.

Isha shot me a long, thoughtful look.

“Because I want to see this woman whose name you remember more than your fiancée’s,” she replied. “Who is she?”

“She’s nobody,” I said hastily, ignoring the voice in my head that called me a liar.

Isha was way more perceptive than she appeared, and I had to throw her off the scent before she uncovered facts that were best left buried.

“Rubbish! She’s clearly somebody ,” insisted Isha.

“She’s just a member of the staff, Isha,” I said, trying to sound bored.

“Then why do you remember her name?” she demanded.

“I remembered your name as well. In fact, I remembered everyone’s name, but Ram… I mean, Kavya’s. I forgot her name because her beauty left me speechless,” I improvised hastily.

A loud snort of derision was Isha’s only response, but I was relieved when she dropped the topic. Ma beckoned me over, and we headed for the small dais that had been set up in the centre of the terrace. There was a huge cake on the table and champagne on ice next to it. It looked beautiful, and yet, I felt like I was walking to the hangman’s noose.

“Stop scowling,” muttered Veer from my left. “You’ll scare your fiancée.”

I tried to smile instead, but Isha groaned softly from my right.

“God, no! That’s even worse. Go back to scowling,” she hissed.

I thought fondly back to my days in the US when I had no friends. There was something to be said for loneliness.

My mother smiled at me mistily when I reached the dais, and I remembered why I was doing this. It was all for her sake. I had chosen to walk down a very dangerous path in life when I decided to help Dheer and Veer fight the local mafia. If something happened to me, Ma would be left all alone and at the mercy of Sangram and Kumudini Kaki Sa. Whether I liked it or not, I had to create a family that would outlast me.

Ma hugged me tightly.

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispered.

I grunted in reply because I knew her hopes for my marital happiness were soon to be dashed. Kavya and I would probably settle into the same pattern as Devika and I. We’d spend most of our days and nights apart. She’d remember me when her allowance ran out, and I’d forget her after she delivered my heir. My cynicism was far too ingrained to allow anything else.

There was a loud cheer from the guests, and the crowd around us parted to allow Kavya to walk towards me. I tried to keep my eyes on her, but against my will, they strayed to the woman walking behind her, holding a big tray of sweets.

Shivina Kedia. The woman who had haunted my dreams since I set eyes on her a week ago.

I didn’t know what it was about her that held my attention when Kavya didn’t. They were both a head shorter than me and curvy, but the sight of my fiancée did not make my heart slam against my ribcage as if I’d just power-slammed three Red Bulls. This simply wouldn’t do.

I tried to drag my eyes away, but she looked up just then. As her eyes met mine, she flushed brightly, and the tray in her hand wobbled dangerously.