CHAPTER 24
The second Jogra steel plant was located at the outskirts of a coastal town.
The air felt thicker due to humidity and also because she had gotten used to thin, cold mountain air.
The Jogra helicopter had dropped Yamini at a private airport, and Yamini then headed to the steel plant in a separate SUV.
Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the company SUV and adjusted the strap of her camera bag over her shoulder. The protest banners outside the factory gates were similar to those at the first plant.
Yamini clicked a few pictures of the protesters before stepping into the compound.
She didn’t waste time. After checking in with the PR team, she moved through the factory floor, capturing shots of machinery, workers, and inspection processes. She kept her distance, professional and focused.
She was in the middle of capturing a female worker when she heard a familiar voice calling her. It was Tina Mehta.
Tina stood a few feet away in a fitted ivory pantsuit, sunglasses perched dramatically over her perfectly styled hair.
There was visible anger in Tina’s eyes. Yamini knew Tina was furious that she hadn’t won the emerald pendant at the auction like she had boasted she would.
Tina didn’t know who had acquired it.
Yamini suppressed the impulse to pull out the emerald fish pendant that sat nestled against the base of her throat beneath her shirt.
“What are you doing, Miss Dhar?” Tina asked.
“I’m taking pictures of the workers,” Yamini replied in an even tone.
Tina’s smile thinned. “We need structured, controlled visuals today. No… artistic improvisations. Don’t waste time.”
Yamini didn’t react.
She ignored Tina and continued to work.
She knew it pissed the other woman even more. She heard Tina snapping at junior analysts, then at a technician who didn’t respond fast enough, and then at a senior supervisor in front of his staff.
Yamini didn’t interfere until Tina crossed a line.
She targeted an older factory worker who struggled to understand Tina’s rapid instructions and the long, printed technical document.
Tina rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Can someone explain basic compliance language to him?” she said loudly. “Or is this the level of workforce we are working with?”
The worker’s face flushed with humiliation.
Something inside Yamini snapped, and she stepped forward.
“Mr. Sharma,” she said gently to the worker, “could you show us the ventilation unit you upgraded last month?”
Relief flooded the man’s face as he nodded eagerly and led her a few steps away.
Tina’s heels clicked sharply behind them.
“What are you doing, Miss Dhar?” Tina demanded.
Yamini turned. “I’m helping.”
“Your help isn’t needed here,” Tina said. “Do your job and stick to photography.”
“I am doing my job,” Yamini replied. “Photographing the human side of the project.”
“This is not a social documentary,” Tina snapped. “This is a government-backed environmental compliance initiative.”
“And humiliating workers improves compliance?” Yamini asked.
The surrounding staff went silent.
Tina’s face reddened.
“Know your place, Miss Dhar,” Tina hissed.
“My place,” Yamini said, “is here to do my job.”
Tina inhaled a noisy breath. “That’s it. You are fired! Leave immediately.”
Yamini didn’t move.
“I wasn’t hired by you,” Yamini reminded her. “So you cannot fire me.”
Tina’s eyes flashed with fury.
“Oh, I absolutely can,” she said. “There’s enough proof to back my claims. I’ll speak to His Highness directly.”
Yamini held her gaze. “You’re welcome to try.”
Tina’s nostrils flared. “I don’t need to try,” she said coolly. “His Highness listens to me.”
A subtle murmur rippled through the team and the workers.
Tina then looked at Yamini with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure even you must have heard of it, Miss Dhar,” she said. “It’s not official yet. But there’s a certain understanding between His Highness and me.”
Yamini knew Tina was referring to the rumors and gossip that tied Tina to the Jogra maharaja. It was ironic that Yamini was the one who had taken pictures of them standing together at the environmental event.
“I see,” Yamini said. “Then have him fire me.”
Hearing the challenge in Yamini’s voice, Tina Mehta spun sharply and marched toward the administrative wing.
Yamini watched her go, both annoyed and faintly amused.
She finished reassuring the older worker and took a few more pictures before she went to the administrative block.
As soon as the royal security guards saw her, they straightened immediately.
“Your Highness,” one of them greeted softly.
They opened the door without question.
Yamini walked in.
Tina was seated across from Bharat Jogra.
He was looking at the documents in front of him while Tina spoke.
“…the photographer is continuing to behave suspiciously, Your Highness,” Tina was saying in a soft, falsely distressed tone. “Interrupting workflow. Engaging workers off-record. I believe she is connected to the external destabilization attempts.”
Yamini scoffed.
Tina turned, and her eyes narrowed.
Yamini didn’t say anything to Tina. Instead, she walked directly towards Bharat Jogra.
And before her courage could waver, she sat on his lap and then slid her arm around his neck.
The faint scent of his familiar cologne wrapped around her.
There was a loud gasp.
“Miss Dhar— what are you doing!” Tina shrieked. “Your Highness, I— I am so sorry. I will ensure such brazen misbehavior is handled immediately!”
Yamini noticed that Bharat Jogra had gone completely still.
Then slowly, his golden-brown gaze lifted from the document to Yamini. And held.
The silence stretched.
“Leave,” Bharat commanded.
Tina straightened instantly. “Miss Dhar, get up right now and leave. Or I will see that you—”
“Leave, Miss Mehta,” Bharat repeated the low command.
His gaze never left Yamini.
Tina froze in shock. “You… you are asking me to leave?” she whispered.
Bharat’s eyes remained on Yamini. “Leave. Now.”
Tina stumbled to her feet and exited the office in stunned silence.
The door shut softly behind her, silence filling the room again.
Yamini became acutely aware of everything at once.
The quiet hum of the air conditioning. The faint scent of steel and expensive cologne. And the solid heat of the man beneath her.
She was still sitting in Bharat Jogra’s lap.
She felt every inch of contact between them. The hard line of his thigh beneath her. The warmth seeping through the layers of fabric, and the subtle rise and fall of his chest.
Her pulse raced. She expected him to shove her away or command her to get up.
But he didn’t.
His hands continued to rest on the armrests of the chair, fingers relaxed but unmoving.
“You enjoy provoking people,” he said.
His voice was neutral. Controlled.
“Miss Mehta provoked me first,” she countered.
It was ridiculous that she was having the conversation from his lap. She knew she should get up, but her legs didn’t seem to move.
Her fingers were still looped loosely behind his neck. She became aware of how intimate that position looked. How intimate it felt.
Why did this feel more intimate than the nights?
She realized that she had only seen him up close during nights in low lighting. During the day, there was always a distance.
Now, she stared. He looked stunningly handsome. And a bit too perfect. His hair was neatly styled with not a strand out of place. Even the short stubble grew in perfect lines along his well-defined jaw.
Her hand itched to mess up his hair as she did at night, unknowingly during passion. But she stayed still.
His gaze lowered to her lips. And her breath hitched before she could stop it.
He didn’t move closer. Didn’t touch her.
But the awareness grew until it felt like a live wire.
Her heart slammed.
She recalled Pooja’s words asking her to kiss him first.
She felt tempted to do just that. She wanted to pull his head down and touch his perfectly shaped lips in a deep kiss.
Will he kiss me back? Or will he push me away?
But before she could give in to the dangerous impulse, she inhaled deeply and hurriedly stood up from his lap.
The movement was too quick. Too abrupt. She nearly stumbled, catching herself against the edge of his desk.
“I—” She cleared her throat. “Tina Mehta won’t say anything.”
He was silent.
“She won’t speak about seeing us… together,” she said. “She’s hoping to become the Jogra maharani. She won’t risk damaging her own prospects. So, there won’t be any rumors before your mother’s formal announcement.”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t particularly seem to care or worry about the possibility of rumors.
His attention went back to the document on his desk.
“Return to your work,” he commanded.
Yamini’s face burned at his cold dismissal. “Yes, Your Highness,” she said in a sarcastically sweet tone.
She turned and walked toward the door.
But before she reached it, his voice stopped her.
“Yamini.”
She froze. He rarely used her name.
She turned slightly.
“Miss Mehta will not interfere with you again,” he said.
Her heartbeat stuttered. It almost sounded like protectiveness. But she wasn’t too sure.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“And do not sit on my lap in public spaces again,” he added.
Once again, annoyance filled her.
She hadn’t planned to sit on his lap ever again. But his command made her raise her chin. “As your wife, and as the Jogra maharani, I absolutely can sit in your lap anytime I want.”
With that parting shot, she stepped out of his office.