Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
DIYA
“ S mile,” ordered my best friend, Isha, passing me a suspiciously yellow cocktail.
I sniffed it gingerly and grimaced at the strong whiff of alcohol that emanated from it.
“No, thank you,” I replied. “I’m here under duress. This is practically a kidnapping, Isha Shekhawat. And you know it. You’re supposed to be my best friend, no? Then help me get out of here!”
She rolled her eyes as she drained her glass and licked her lips.
“This is yummm,” she said happily, reaching for my glass.
I gave it up willingly because the thought of saffron mixed with vodka made my stomach turn.
“Don’t blame me if you get alcohol poisoning,” I warned. “You know as well as I do that desi royals are too cheap to use the good liquor for big parties. I bet our hostess ordered the booze in barrels from the local theka.”
“The Rani Ma of Mirpur is not like that. I’ve met her before and she’s always been very gracious.”
I snorted in derision at her naiveté.
“Don’t be fooled, Isha. All these royal aunties know how to weaponise their graciousness. They will be very sweet and polite as they rip you to shreds with their sharp tongues. Now, if you’re done sucking down your fifth cocktail, can we please leave?”
“Not until we’ve met some men,” she teased, and I glared at her in response.
“No fucking way! I’m not in the market for men.”
She sighed and set her glass down on the nearest available surface, which happened to be a marble elephant that looked like it had got butt implants.
“Princess Diya Sisodia, can you please stop with the Meena Kumari attitude? If you’d stop playing the tragedy queen for one minute, you’d see that life is passing you by. You’re almost thirty and you haven’t dated anyone since… well, since you-know-what. And if you don’t snap out of it, you’re going to be alone for the rest of your life.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Well, for once your mother and I are on the same page,” she shot back. “You need a man.”
“I have a vibrator. That’s much better than a man,” I informed her loftily.
“A vibrator won’t love you, Diya. Not like a man will.”
“Men don’t love you, Isha. They just use you and throw you away,” I reminded her bitterly.
She put a hand on my arm and squeezed it lightly.
“Not every man is like my stupid brother, Diya. Dheer didn’t deserve you. But I promise you that one day, you will meet a man who will see you for the amazing woman that you are.”
Just then, my mother approached us with a tall, sour-faced middle-aged woman trailing after her unwillingly.
“Alka Ji, please allow me to introduce my daughter, Princess Diya Kumari. And this is her friend, Princess Isha Shekhawat. Girls, I’m sure you’ve heard of Alka Goel, who is an industrialist and philanthropist.”
Of course, I’d heard of the mining Goels. Who hadn’t? I forced a polite smile and greeted the sour-faced woman. But she was staring at Isha warily.
“Shekhawat? Is she the princess of Trikhera?” she asked sharply and a little rudely, considering that Isha was standing right in front of her.
Isha shot her a strained smile and nodded.
“Randheer Shekhawat’s sister?” spat the rude lady, and I stiffened at her tone.
Hearing anyone mention Dheer was difficult for me even after so many years, but there was something in her voice. A curious mix of anger, hatred and… fear . Why was this woman afraid of Dheer?
“Yes, I am,” replied Isha, raising her chin proudly.
What was that about, I wondered.
Alka Goel turned to my mother angrily.
“I didn’t know your daughter associates with the likes of the Trikheras,” she said coldly, and I bristled at her tone.
Apart from the fact that the Trikheras were as blue-blooded as they came, Isha and I were closer than sisters. Also, why was this upstart looking down on Isha’s family? Who even knew about the Goels before they paid their way into high society by hosting flashy parties and weddings? The Trikheras were an ancient royal family with a lineage that went back to the times of Maharana Pratap.
“Isha is my best friend,” I said defiantly, although I didn’t owe her an explanation.
“Hmph,” she replied, but before I could put the nasty cow in her place, a man approached us with a weaselly smile.
“You must be Diya. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, putting out his hand.
I took it hesitantly because I didn’t want to give my mother any ideas.
“Diya, this is Alka Ji’s son, Ayush,” she said, with a wide smile that made me uncomfortable as hell.
“Nice to meet you,” I said faintly, but before I could introduce him to Isha, Ayush sneezed in my face and I recoiled in horror.
“Come along, Ayush. There’s a bit of a draft here. I don’t want you to fall sick,” said his mother, pulling him away determinedly.
My mother closed her eyes briefly and muttered something under her breath.
“Can I say eww?” I said in a hushed whisper.
Isha giggled and my mother opened her eyes to glare at me.
“That eww happens to be the only heir to the Goel billions, Diya. At your age, you can’t afford to turn your nose up at such a healthy fortune,” she scolded.
“I don’t need his fortune, ma. I have my own,” I retorted.
She took a deep breath and glared at me one more time before she walked away from us. For once, I was glad of my mother’s royal upbringing which forbade her from creating a scene in public.
“Didn’t I tell you you’d meet a man who would see you for the amazing woman that you are?” crowed Isha.
“Well, I can promise you that Ayush Goel is not that man. Even his father’s billions can’t make up for his lack of personality, Isha.”
“I know he’s no prince. But maybe you’ll feel differently after you get to know him better,” she argued.
“I don’t need a prince, Isha. But I refuse to marry a toad,” I said angrily.
“Listen, I know he sneezed in your face when his mother introduced the two of you, but you can’t hold that against him,” she said severely.
“It wasn’t the sneeze that bothered me as much as the line of white powder trickling out of his nostril,” I replied.
“Eww! Really?”
I nodded and she deflated visibly.
“Fine! Forget about him, but stay and enjoy the party,” said Isha defeatedly.
“Ugh! Fine! I’ll stay, but I reserve the right to whine about it.”
“Brat,” she teased.
“Accha, what was that about?” I asked curiously.
I had known Isha since we were babies, and I could tell when she was hiding something from me.
She turned a blank face to me.
“What was what about?”
“Why did that woman talk about your family as if she hated you guys?”
I was careful not to take Dheer’s name, but Isha knew what I meant. And she was hiding something, for sure.
“I don’t know. Maybe she has something against royals,” she said vaguely.
I wasn’t fooled for a minute, but Ayush accosted us before I could interrogate her further. Isha made a quick escape and left us alone, and I vowed to get back at her for this betrayal.
I tried not to yawn in Ayush’s face, but it was tough because ohmigod! He was the most boring person I’d ever met!
I looked around the ballroom as he droned on about his favourite topic - himself. The Rani Ma of Mirpur seemed to have invited every royal of marriageable age in the country to her party. I wondered if she was running some sort of royal matchmaking agency. Then I gasped as realisation dawned on me.
My mother had forced me to attend this party, but she had brought me here under false pretences. The annual Mirpur Royal Gala, my ass. This was the Mirpur Marriage Mixer, I thought furiously.
Just then, a murmur of excitement spread through the room and everyone turned to face the door. I wondered if Rani Ma had invited a Bollywood hottie because nothing else could justify this level of excitement. And then, the crowd parted and I drew in a sharp breath.
It was him.
His Highness Randheer Singh Shekhawat, Maharaja of Trikhera.
I was over him, I reminded myself as I forced myself to breathe slowly. I was not a naive twenty-one-year-old anymore. I was nine years older and wiser, and completely indifferent to his existence.
And yet, my heart leapt into my throat and my hands began to shake. I thought I was going to faint under the force of my emotions. It was just Dheer, I tried telling myself. The man who had broken my heart.
But my heart couldn’t see beyond the fact that it was Dheer . The only man I had ever loved.
What was he doing here? But that was a stupid question.
I should have anticipated that Dheer would be invited to such a high-profile party. He was a very successful industrialist. Moreover, he was one of the most famous and eligible royal bachelors in the country. Was he looking for a bride at this mixer?
I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood and kept my gaze on the man in front of me, who was droning on about his latest interest - animal photography. My mother was clearly up to her old tricks because she was desperate to get me married off. That was why she had arranged for me to meet Ayush at this party.
It had taken me nine long years to break the shackles of my sheltered upbringing because it had taken my parents that long to accept that I wasn’t going to settle down into yet another marriage that they arranged for me.
I had wasted the first twenty-one years of my life training to be the next Maharani of Trikhera, and after that dream came crashing down so spectacularly, I had to learn to live for myself. That was a hard lesson to learn, and I wasn’t going to throw it away on any other man. Not even if he was the billionaire son of a mining baron.
“I would love to take a picture of you with a king cobra wrapped around your neck. You’d have to be topless, of course,” said Ayush, leering at me.
I wondered if I was hearing things. Seeing Dheer had thrown me off balance and maybe I had misheard Ayush because even he wouldn’t be stupid enough to suggest something so offensive.
As it turned out, he was that stupid.
“I beg your pardon?” I asked faintly.
“A huge king cobra wrapped around you,” he repeated. “It will have to be defanged, of course. Think how glorious you’d look.”
I beat back the urge to hurl at the vile image. This wasn’t the wild sixties. I couldn’t imagine anyone defiling a beautiful creature for the sake of a bloody photograph.
“I don’t think so,” I said as firmly as I could.
Anger flashed in his beady eyes and I realised that Ayush Goel wasn’t used to hearing the word no.
“Hmm. Did I tell you that I don’t like curly hair, Diya?” he asked peevishly. “You’ll have to straighten it if you want to be with me.”
Over my dead body, I swore to myself. In the past few minutes, this asshole had informed me that according to his mother, I was too skinny, too dark-skinned, and too opinionated to be the Goel bahu. Well, they could go fuck themselves.
I didn’t know why he was still here if he didn’t like anything about me. Then I sighed as I remembered that for all my faults, I was an heiress. My fortune mattered way more than my looks.
I knew I could eviscerate this dumbass with just a few words, but I bit my tongue because I had promised to give him a chance. It wasn’t easy, though. Especially, when I could feel Dheer’s gaze burning into my skin like a brand.
I knew he was still staring at me. I could always tell when Dheer was looking at me. His gaze used to send tingles up the back of my neck and force me to turn around and look right back at him. Not anymore, I told myself sternly, straightening my spine.
But it was as if my head had a mind of its own and turned around slowly, quite against my will. When I met Dheer’s fiery gaze, it was as if the past nine years ceased to exist. His eyes drew me in and held me trapped in a moment in time when I had every right to be lost in their caramel-like depths. When all that mattered was Dheer.
My heart stuttered and my breath hitched as I remembered that those days were long gone, and it was all his fault. I forced myself to look away again.
Why the hell was he still staring at me?
I took another deep breath and forced down the bile that rose in my throat as Ayush tucked my hair behind my ear. I don’t know why he had been treating me like his personal doll all evening, but I hated it.
I leaned away from his touch as discreetly as I could.
His mother watched us like a hawk from the other end of the room, and I knew everything I did would be analysed and reported to my mother. And I didn’t want to give her any more ammunition against me.
Someone hailed Ayush and he turned away to greet them. I exhaled in relief at the brief respite and turned to Isha who had reappeared by my side. She looked as if she’d rather be anywhere but here.
“Remind me again why I allow my mother to put me in such situations,” I whispered.
“Because you can’t deal with her tantrums when she doesn’t get her way,” she replied drily.
I sighed heavily.
“This has to stop, Isha. First of all, it’s false advertising. I have no intention of marrying any of these guys she forces me to meet. It’s time she made her peace with the fact that her daughter will never marry.”
“That’s all very well, but who’s going to break it to her?” asked Isha, staring at Dheer worriedly.
“I’ll talk to her about it when I go home this time.”
“She’s terrified you’re going to shack up with some shady European fortune hunter on one of your trips.”
I snorted in derision at the very idea.
“Doesn’t she know me at all? I live like a nun, Isha.”
Unlike the other models I worked with, who partied hard when they weren’t working, I had a very cloistered lifestyle. All I did was work and work out. My only friend was Isha. And after my last experience with love, I had no interest in that fickle emotion.
“It’s normal for parents to worry about their child.”
“But it isn’t normal to manipulate said child even when she’s thirty years old,” I replied grimly. “I’m done with this shit. If I have to listen to any more negging from Ayush, I’ll stab him in the throat with a toothpick.”
Isha’s eyes widened in panic when I picked a mini galouti kebab off a passing tray and pulled the toothpick out to brandish it around like a weapon.
“You can’t leave so soon, Diya. I have no one else to talk to, and I have to stay for a while because Dheer is my ride back home. Please stay for a while,” she begged, and I relented with a sigh.
I couldn’t tell her that the real reason I was so eager to get the hell out of there was her stupid brother. If merely the sight of him could make me spiral so badly, I didn’t know what I’d do if I was forced to talk to him.
I wondered if I could hide somewhere until it was time to leave. But I must have done something awful in a past life because I spotted a well-known gossip making a beeline for us. And walking behind him, looking like he’d rather be hanging from the wing of a rocket in outer space being pelted by flaming asteroids than be anywhere near me was His Highness Randheer Singh Shekhawat.