Chapter 1
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Yamini kept her head down and camera up.
Blend in. Stay behind taller people. Avoid standing alone. And most importantly, don’t stare at him.
She stayed near the side of the lawn, half-hidden behind a decorative pillar. Not hiding exactly, but not standing where she could be easily noticed.
A junior photographer brushed past her, adjusting his equipment, a cap hanging loosely from his bag.
Yamini called him. “Hey, can I borrow your cap until the event?”
He blinked, slightly confused, then nodded. “Yes… Sure.”
“Thanks,” she said, reaching for the cap.
She slipped it on, tugging it low enough to cast a faint shadow over her face.
It wasn’t much. But it felt like something.
Pooja walked past her with a clipboard. “Why are you wearing a hat?” she asked.
“It’s hot,” Yamini muttered.
Pooja frowned. “It’s nearly winter. But I suppose you are still adjusting to the weather here in India.”
Yamini gave a quick nod, latching onto that explanation.
Pooja grinned and leaned closer to whisper. “I don’t know about the weather, but I can’t believe how handsome and hot the Jogra maharaja is in person.”
Yamini resisted the urge to scoff. Instead, she continued to observe him nonchalantly with her camera. “He looks alright, I guess.”
“Oh, please,” Pooja said. “He is movie-star handsome. If he didn’t have bodyguards around him, all the women at the event would be clinging to him.”
Yamini highly doubted it. Even without the bodyguards, no one would dare approach him or cling to him without his approval.
He stood near the center of the gathering, and people automatically gave him space. He didn’t raise his voice or try to draw attention. He knew he didn’t need to.
Yamini knew Pooja was right. Bharat Jogra was quite handsome. Fair-skinned with model-sharp features, he had the kind of face that could have made him a movie star.
But there was nothing soft or emotive about him. He looked too controlled.
She could see him clearly because he was taller than the people around him.
She noticed that his dark suit fit him perfectly, clean at the broad shoulders, flat across his chest, and sharp at the waist. He wasn’t wearing a tie.
But instead of making him look casual, the open collar somehow made him look even more intimidating.
Her eyes fell on the heavy gold ring on his right hand that caught the light when he moved.
It wasn’t flashy, but it was a loud statement. It held authority, power, and lineage.
The sunglasses stayed on even under the shade.
He didn’t have to remove them for her to know what was behind them. Golden-brown eyes that had never looked at her even once.
Her jaw tightened at the memory.
It had been five years. But she still recalled the cold, indifferent expression on his handsome face while she tried to talk to him.
Five years had changed her a lot. But he looked the same.
She lifted her camera and took a long shot from the side.
Click.
Her heart jumped at the sound that somehow seemed louder.
But he didn’t look towards the camera. Powerful men like him didn’t pose for cameras. Cameras followed them.
Good.
She moved slightly, continuing to keep taller guests between her gaze.
If she stayed careful, this would be fine. He would attend, acknowledge the right people, and leave early like men like him always did.
She zoomed in.
His profile looked sharp in the lens. His expression was neutral. When he shifted his shoulders, the suit moved subtly, defining his solid muscles.
She hated that she not only noticed, but her heart sped up.
Ugh. Focus, but not on his body.
A man in a navy blazer tried to joke with him. People laughed loudly at the joke. But Bharat didn’t.
The man laughed harder with nervousness.
Yamini almost rolled her eyes.
The chief minister approached him again.
Beside him walked a slightly familiar young, pretty woman in an elegant Indo-western dress with diamonds in her ears, neck, and wrists catching the light.
Pooja had mentioned earlier that the woman, Tina Mehta, was the event organizer and the chief minister’s daughter.
“Your Highness,” the chief minister greeted. “Thank you so much for being here.”
Bharat shook the chief minister’s hand. It was brief, firm, and efficient.
Yamini captured it.
Click.
“My daughter Tina organized this event,” the minister continued proudly.
The daughter stepped forward with a bright, shiny smile. “Maharaja Bharat, it’s an absolute honor that you have given us your time.”
Bharat gave her a cool nod.
Not a smile. Just acknowledgment.
Tina Mehta’s smile stayed in place. But Yamini felt a sudden flare of irritation on behalf of the other woman.
So, what if he is a powerful maharaja? He doesn’t get to ignore people around him.
Why can’t he smile a little?
With an annoyed scowl, Yamini took another photo.
Click.
She took a few more pictures while Tina Mehta continued to speak animatedly until Bharat gave her another brief nod and stepped away.
There was a brief look of disappointment on Tina Mehta’s pretty face.
Yamini didn’t want to capture it.
She continued to take pictures while other people approached Bharat Jogra in groups. She noticed that he didn’t initiate conversation. He only seemed to tolerate it.
Snobbish jerk.
As though sensing her stare, he turned slightly.
For one second, it felt like he was looking straight towards her.
She froze.
Oh my God.
Her pulse shot up so fast she thought she might drop the camera that was shielding her face.
He turned away barely a moment later.
She let out a slow breath and quickly lowered her head, letting the cap shade her upper face.
The event officially began, and the speaker talked about sustainability and environmental programs.
She noticed that Bharat Jogra listened for only a few minutes. Then he gave a small nod to one of his guards.
Within moments, there was another announcement on the mike.
“Ladies and gentlemen, His Highness has an urgent commitment and will be leaving shortly…”
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
Relief hit Yamini hard.
Thank God, he’s leaving soon.
She stayed back as other photographers rushed forward. But she lifted her camera one last time.
Click.
He shook the chief minister’s hand again and gave a brief nod to Tina Mehta.
Then he walked toward the exit surrounded by his guards.
Yamini did not follow.
From her place near the pillar, she watched security clear the way toward the helicopter.
Minutes later, the blades started again. Yamini held her camera close, squinting slightly as the air whipped around her.
Then the helicopter lifted. And just like that, he was gone.
Yamini stayed where she was for a moment longer, staring at the empty sky, her heart still racing.
Bharat Singh Jogra was gone.
And thank God, he hadn’t seen her.