CHAPTER 6
The next morning, Yamini arrived at the steel plant just after nine.
She had overslept the previous night, dreaming about cold, furious golden-brown eyes. In the morning, she had to skip coffee and rush to get ready and hop onto the train.
As soon as she reached the premises, she went past the noisy protesters crowding the gates. The crowd and noise somehow seemed bigger than the previous day.
Inside the gates, after her ID was checked and she was let in, she began to walk towards the administrative block.
She reached the briefing area just as the environmental team gathered.
Tina stood near the center, once again dressed in an immaculate ivory pantsuit, her hair pulled into an elegant knot. She was speaking sharply to a junior team member, her tone clipped, her posture rigid with authority.
Yamini stayed near the edge of the group, lifting her camera and beginning her work without drawing attention to herself. She focused on the machinery first, then on emissions controls, then on workers moving through their routines in safety gear, keeping her lens steady and neutral.
The quietness didn’t last.
Barely an hour later, the sharp click of heels approached her.
“Miss Dhar,” Tina addressed sternly.
Yamini lowered her camera and looked up. “Yes?”
Tina’s nose flared because Yamini didn’t look intimidated by her or stand in attention as the rest of the team did.
Tina’s eyes narrowed. “I already told you I am leading the project. Why didn’t you report to me, Miss Dhar?”
Yamini knew the other woman wanted the confrontation to end with Yamini’s submissiveness. “My contract says otherwise, Miss Mehta. It clearly states I’m to work with the environmental team, not report to them. I was hired by the PR team.”
Tina’s eyes hardened. “Just because you are an award-winning photographer, don’t think you get a free hand here.”
“I don’t have a free hand. I have specific tasks allocated to me, which I am working on.”
Yamini could almost see smoke coming out of Tina’s ears.
Thanks to Tina’s obvious anger, the rest of the team grew uncomfortable.
Tina’s eyes narrowed. “You know, Miss Dhar. Based on the recent developments, perhaps you shouldn’t be allowed to continue.”
Yamini frowned slightly. “What developments?”
Yamini half-expected Tina to say she knew about her being Bharat Jogra’s runaway bride.
“There are talks of possible corporate espionage,” Tina said instead. “External interests are desperate to bring this company down. And suddenly, a so-called award-winning photographer appears out of nowhere.”
The implication settled into the space around them.
The team shifted uncomfortably, and several workers paused to listen.
Yamini held her ground. “If you’re accusing me of something, I suggest you be clear, Miss Mehta.”
Tina’s smile sharpened. “I’m suggesting caution.”
“Accusations without proof fall under defamation,” Yamini said. “Especially when they are made publicly.”
The shift in the room was immediate.
Tina blinked once, clearly not used to being challenged so directly. A faint flush crept into her face as she straightened. “You should be careful, Miss Dhar,” she said, her voice tightening. “This industry does not forgive easily.”
Yamini met her gaze without hesitation. “Neither does the law, Miss Mehta.”
Before Tina could respond, a ripple moved through the room.
Yamini felt him before she saw him.
Tina’s demeanor transformed instantly. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said, stepping forward with practiced ease, her voice softer now, almost warm.
This time, Bharat didn’t even acknowledge her presence with a nod.
But that didn’t seem to deter Tina.
“We were discussing enhanced security protocols,” Tina continued, her tone eager. “Given the possible threat of internal sabotage, I recommend thorough background checks on all personnel, including temporary hires.”
Her gaze flicked toward Yamini.
Bharat did not respond, but Yamini felt his gaze from behind his sunglasses.
Then he turned away and walked toward the glass office overlooking the plant floor.
The door closed behind him.
Tina’s lips curved slightly. “You may want to start wrapping up your work, Miss Dhar. I don’t think you’ll be needed beyond today.”
Yamini didn’t reply.
Yamini returned to work, documenting operations, emissions controls, and safety drills. She stayed professional and focused, but irritation simmered under her calm.
Neither Bharat Jogra nor his team called for her.
There was no acknowledgment. Or reaction. Or any investigation. Not even a passing glance through the glass office above.
Nothing.
At first, Yamini told herself it did not matter. She had work to do, and she did it with steady focus, moving from one section of the plant to another, capturing images, adjusting angles, keeping her mind deliberately occupied.
But by late afternoon, it was no longer irritation. It felt personal.
Yamini’s jaw tightened.
Was he deliberately drawing it out? Letting her sweat, thinking he would fire her anytime?
Or maybe he had seen her and decided she wasn’t worth reacting to.
He dismissed her as if she did not exist. Again.
She zipped her camera bag shut with more force than necessary. But instead of leaving, she turned toward the administrative wing, her steps quick and unhesitating.
Two uniformed royal security men moved into her path the moment she reached the office door.
“I need to speak with… His Highness,” Yamini said.
One of them shook his head. “We can’t let you in without an appointment.”
“Then ask him for one. Tell him it’s Yamini… Dhar.” She almost said Yamini Gaur, but she knew Bharat would know her by her professional name. He must have enquired when he saw her the previous day.
The guards looked at her for a moment and nodded. Then they called to inform him of her presence.
A sharp crackle of static cut through.
“Let her in,” a deep voice commanded.
The guards stepped aside instantly.
Yamini walked in with her heart thudding.
A part of her screamed inside that she should turn and leave. But another part of her goaded her to confront him.
She didn’t want to work each day filled with uncertainty that she might be fired.
The office was minimalist with clean lines and no personal touches. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the sprawling plant.
Two men in suits stood taking notes on their devices. Bharat Jogra was seated behind a sleek desk, a document in his hand, and he didn’t look up.
But he made a brief gesture as though sensing her presence.
His assistants exited silently, and the door shut softly behind them.
The silence that followed stretched, deliberate, and heavy.
He still did not look at her.
Yamini took a deep breath. Before she lost her nerve, she spoke. “I wanted to talk to you… about our past. I am not entirely sure that you recognized me. I am Yamini Gaur… your ex-fiancée.”
A part of her expected him to look shocked. But he didn’t say anything.
“I ran away from the wedding because you were cold,” she said, the words coming faster now. “You barely spoke to me. It was obvious you didn’t want me. You were doing your duty. The man I left with… he wanted me. He proposed. I married him instead.”
There was silence until he spoke.
“And how did your marriage turn out, Princess Yamini?” Bharat Jogra asked calmly.
The title cut her deep, reminding her what that hasty, rebellious marriage cost her.
She stiffened. “I’m divorced. He cheated. Emptied my accounts and left me with nothing.”
Bharat turned a page.
That was all. No reaction. Not even gloating that she had suffered after running away from him.
Something in her snapped.
She stepped closer to the desk, knowing no one was allowed that close to him.
He still didn’t react.
She didn’t know what came over her. Maybe it was the lack of proper sleep. Or the strange dreams from last night. Or the trust call. But all of it sharpened into something reckless.
“Marry me,” she said. “I need to marry a royal and have a child before I turn thirty-one. Terms of my late grandmother’s inheritance. Right now, you are the only royal I know. I heard you have similar timelines for an heir.”
Part of her was shocked that she had said those words to him. But adrenaline pumped through her, making her reckless, wanting to see a reaction on his face. Anger or disgust. Some kind of reaction other than the cold indifference.
There was silence.
Then she felt the shift. It was subtle, but she sensed it in the way he set the document down with precision.
Then he looked up. His golden-brown eyes, intense and unreadable, locked onto her face.
She held her breath, waiting for an explosion.
“I accept,” he said.
Yamini froze. “What?”
“I accept your proposal,” Bharat repeated. “On my terms.”
The world seemed to tilt.
Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs, loud enough that she could hear it.
She had expected shock, anger, and then dismissal.
But not this. Not agreeing to her ridiculous proposal.
This was not how this was supposed to go at all.