AUTHOR POV

The grand corridors of the Rathor Raj Mahal grew significantly quieter over the next few days. The bustling energy of the raj tilak celebrations had finally settled, replaced by the rhythmic, heavy machinery of state governance and corporate responsibility.

With Vardaan and Reet heading back to Delhi for her crucial three-month pregnancy checkup—and Jay and Ahana tagging along to give them company and handle some pending work—the sprawling palace felt emptier. The lively chatter in the gardens had dulled, leaving a peaceful but poignant silence in its wake.

the King of Rajasthan was brutal. The state border restoration projects, extensive development contracts with the local government, and the global operations of *The Rathor Company* and *Eternity* demanded his absolute presence.

Days bled into nights. He was constantly anchored to the leather chair in his grand home study, surrounded by ministers, legal advisors, and digital screens displaying market logistics. The cold, ruthless, and emotionless prince the world feared had to make a full reappearance to negotiate with stubborn bureaucrats and secure the future of his kingdom.

Because of the relentless schedule, he wasn't able to give his Janna much time.

There were mornings he had to leave the bed before her brown eyes even opened, and nights he returned so late that she was already fast asleep, wrapped in the sheets of their massive king-sized bed. The fiercely possessive, desperate hunger that usually drove him to lock her away from the world had to be channeled entirely into his work.

Yet, through it all, Ishita never complained. Not once.

She understood the massive weight carried by the man who wore the crown. Instead of demanding his presence, she stepped seamlessly into her own role as the Queen. She spent her days managing the palace trust, coordinating with Siya Maa and Dhristi, and checking in on the local artisans they had promised to protect.

Whenever she did see him—even if it was just for a fleeting five minutes when he sprinted upstairs to change his crisp formal shirts—she didn't pout or reprimand him. Instead, she would quietly step up to him, her red bridal *chooda* jingling as she adjusted his heavy cuffs or straightened his designer coat. She would look up into his tired, **ocean-blue eyes**, offer him a warm, grounding smile, and gently press her palm on his chest, silently reminding him that his sanctuary was right here.

Her silent support and understanding only drove him crazier. Her lack of complaints didn't make him feel relieved; it made him feel an intense, burning guilt. Every time he caught a glimpse of her **5'3" slim figure** sitting alone at the massive dining table, or found her makeup kit neatly arranged but untouched because she hadn't gone out, his chest would tighten with an overwhelming, possessive urge to throw all the state documents in the fire just to carry her back to their room.

It was well past midnight when the heavy oak doors of the master bedroom finally clicked open. Rudra stepped into the dimly lit room, loosening his silk tie with a frustrated tug, his broad shoulders tense with absolute exhaustion.

He expected to find her asleep. Instead, he froze.

Ishita was sitting cross-legged in the center of the plush bed, wearing one of his oversized black button-down shirts that swallowed her tiny frame. Her long, curly hair was tied up in a loose, messy bun, and she was patiently reading a book under the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

The moment her brown eyes lifted and locked onto him, a soft, welcoming smile broke across her face. She closed the book, setting it aside, and held out her arms toward him, her silver *payals* tinkling delicately as she shifted.

"You're late, Patidev," she whispered softly, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves.

Rudra didn't say a word. The unyielding, cold King of Rajasthan completely shattered. He shed his designer coat, dropping it carelessly onto the floor, and moved toward the bed with slow, predatory but desperate strides, his eyes locked onto his ultimate peace.

👑 Rudra's Perspective

I didn't answer her. The sheer sight of my  Janna sitting in the center of our bed, practically drowning in my oversized black shirt, made the air get trapped in my lungs.

The heavy, suffocating weight of the crown—the endless ministerial debates, the bureaucratic red tape, the global logistics of *The Rathor Company*—completely fell away, leaving only a raw, desperate hunger for the woman who held my soul in her hands.

I kicked my shoes off and unbuttoned the top three buttons of my dress shirt as I crawled onto the mattress. My movements weren't smooth; they were heavy, fueled by the sheer exhaustion of being away from her for days. Before she could even lower her arms, I sloded my frame forward, burying my face straight into the crook of her neck.

"Ru..." she gasped softly, her small hands instantly coming up to cradle the back of my head. The melodic *chan-chan* of her red bridal *chooda* and silver *payals* filled the quiet room, a sound I had been starved of all week.

I breathed her in deeply, the intoxicating scent of her rose body wash and vanilla hair oil instantly soothing the jagged edges of my mind. My arms wrapped around her slim waist, pulling her flush against my chest until there wasn't a single millimeter of empty space left between us.

"Let me stay like this for a minute, Janna," I rumbled, my voice thick with absolute exhaustion, vibrating directly against her skin. "Just give me a minute."

"I am not going anywhere, Patidev," she whispered tenderly, her fingers threading through my dark hair, gently massaging my scalp to ease the tension. She pressed a soft, lingering kiss onto my temple. "I know how hard you've been working. Papa told me about the border issues."

Hearing her speak with so much maturity only made the knot in my chest tighten. I lifted my head slightly, my  eyes tracking the soft contours of her face under the warm lamplight, lingering on the moles along her jawline and neck that I worshipped.

"I am sorry," I muttered, my jaw clenching as the guilt finally broke through my cold exterior. "I haven't been here. I leave before you wake up, I come back when you're asleep. This isn't how I wanted our first weeks as King and Queen to look. You should be my only priority, but the state—"

"Hey," she cut me off gently, cup-shaping my jaw with her small, warm palms. Her brown eyes were steady, reflecting nothing but pure, unadulterated devotion. "Look at me, Ru. I knew who I was marrying. You are Rajasthan's king, a top businessman, and a protector to thousands of families. If you didn't care about your duties, you wouldn't be the man I fell in love with."

She leaned down and pressed a soft, reassuring kiss right to the center of my forehead. "I am your Queen, remember? I don't need you to entertain me twenty-four hours a day. I just need you to come back to me safely at the end of it.

Her absolute sweetness didn't calm me down. Instead, it triggered something dark, intense, and deeply possessive within my chest.

Why wasn't she angry? Why wasn't she screaming at me? Any other woman in her position would have thrown a tantrum, demanded luxury gifts, or locked the bedroom door to punish her husband. But my Ishita just sat here, wearing my shirt, offering me a sanctuary without a single ounce of resentment.

My grip on her waist tightened, my large fingers digging slightly into the fabric of the shirt. With a slow, deliberate movement, I shifted my weight, effortlessly guiding her downward until her back met the plush mattress, my massive frame hovering directly over her.

"Ru...?" she breathed out, her eyes widening slightly as the sudden shift in my energy hit her.

"Why don't you fight with me, Ishi?" I demanded, my baritone voice dropping into a dark, rough whisper that filled the space between our lips. My jaw was locked, my eyes boring into hers. "Your mother told me out there that you love fighting. She told me you'd create chaos if I took your side too much. So why are you being so quiet with me?"

A soft, hesitant blush crept up her neck, but she didn't look away. "Because there's nothing to fight about..."

"There is," I snarled softly, the fiercely overprotective, obsessed husband taking over completely. I captured both of her wrists in one of my large hands, pinning them gently but securely above her head, right against the pillows. "I'm neglecting you. I’m leaving my new bride alone in a massive palace while I handle ministers. You have every right to pull my hair, to scream at me, to tell me I’m a terrible husband. Demand my time, Janna. Tell me to cancel the government meetings. Force me to stay in this room with you."

I leaned down until my lips were brushing against her earlobe, my breath hot against her skin. "Because God knows, if you gave me even a single excuse, if you shed just one tear and told me you missed me, I would burn those state documents to ashes and never step out of this bedroom."

Ishita let out a shaky, trembling breath beneath me, her chest heaving against mine. Even with her wrists pinned, she didn't pull away. Instead, she loosened her fingers and let them rest against mine, her eyes softening into a gaze so filled with love it completely disarmed my dangerous edge.

"I don't need to create a kalesh to know I own you, Ru," she whispered, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips despite her rapid heartbeat. "I see the way you look at me when you think I'm asleep. I see how you checked the security cameras in the palace forty times a day just to make sure I ate my lunch. Your obsession isn't hidden from me, Patidev."

She shifted slightly, the diamond waist chain beneath my shirt clicking softly against her skin. "I don't fight with you because I don't feel neglected. Even when you're in that study across the palace, I can feel your hold on me. You've branded yourself into my life, Ru. I don't need to demand your time when I already know your entire heart beats only for me."

To prove her words, she tilted her head up, pressing her lips firmly against the base of my neck, right over my pulse point.

The last thread of my restraint snapped. I released her wrists, my large hands sliding down to frame her face, my thumbs tracing her jawline with a fierce, worshipful hunger. The cold King was entirely defeated, brought to his knees by the silent, unshakeable strength of his Queen.

My lips found hers with a fierce, crushing tenderness that spoke of all the days I had spent starving for her touch. I didn't hold back anymore. The weight of my frame pressed her deep into the mattress, but I took care to bear my own weight on my forearms, making sure I didn't hurt her while keeping her completely trapped beneath me.

She whimpered into the kiss, her small hands immediately migrating into my dark hair, anchoring me closer as if she wanted to pull my very soul into her. The melodic *chan-chan* of her red bridal *chooda* clinking against the headboard was the only sound echoing in the silent, moonlit room.

When I finally pulled back, my breathing was ragged, my chest heaving against her soft, silk-covered breasts. I rested my forehead against hers, my thumb tracing the sensitive skin of her jawline, right over those tiny **neck moles** that drove me to the brink of insanity.

"You're going to be the death of me, Janna," I growled softly, my ocean-blue eyes burning into her brown ones. "You sit here looking so innocent in my clothes, saying things that make me want to lock these palace doors and never let you see the light of day again. My obsession isn't a game, Ishi. If I could, I would keep you hidden from every gaze in this world, including my own family."

Ishita let out a soft, breathless chuckle, her hands moving down to my neck, her fingertips lightly tracing the collar of my unbuttoned shirt. "I know, Ru. I know how dangerous your love is. But I am not afraid of your darkness. I've survived the separation, I've survived the distance... your possessiveness is my sanctuary now."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. The reminder of our **three years of separation**—the years I spent bleeding out in silence while she was kept away from me—always turned my blood to ice. My grip on her waist tightened instinctively, an electric surge of sheer panic and protective rage flaring up in my chest.

"Never again," I rumbled, my voice cracking with a raw, dangerous edge as I looked down at her. "No one takes you from me again. Not a single soul. If anyone even dares to look at my Queen with a hidden motive, I will personally show them why the world calls me heartless."

"Ru... look at me," she whispered, her voice dropping into that calm, grounding tone that only she possessed. She slid her hands lower, reaching inside my open shirt until her palms pressed firmly against my bare chest—right over the permanent ink of her name, **ISHITA**, etched directly over my racing heartbeat. "I am right here. Look at my face. I am in your bed, wearing your shirt, bearing your name. No one can touch me here."

The warmth of her skin against my chest slowly melted the ice in my veins. My jaw relaxed slightly, though my eyes remained dark with possessive adoration.

Slowly, deliberately, I leaned down and began pressing soft, trailing kisses down the column of her throat. I bypassed the areas I had marked in the pool, intentionally finding new, unblemished skin on her collarbone, suctioning gently until a soft, sweet gasp escaped her lips.

"You are my empire, Janna," I murmured against her heated skin, my hand sliding under the hem of the black shirt to feel the cool, glittering diamonds of the waist chain resting against her slim figure. "Every minister, every piece of land, every contract I signed today... it's all for you. To build a world where my Queen never has to face a single shadow again."

Ishita arched her neck back, giving me full access, her fingers gripping my muscular shoulders as a low hum of pure surrender vibrated in her chest.

"Then come to bed, Patidev," she whispered into the darkness, her eyes shining with absolute devotion as she looked up at her King. "You've ruled Rajasthan all day. Tonight... just rule over my heart."

The last remnants of my control shattered. I shifted slightly, pulling the plush duvet over both of our bodies, sealing us away from the grand palace, the state duties, and the outside world. In the quiet sanctuary of our room, the ruthless Prince of Rajasthan completely disappeared, surrendering entirely to the only woman who held the power to both destroy and save him.

The soft, golden rays of the early morning sun filtered through the sheer silk curtains of our master bedroom, bathing the room in a warm, ethereal glow. The heavy, lingering scent of sandalwood and roses still hung thick in the air, a beautiful testament to the passionate, breathless hours we had shared under the cover of darkness.

Underneath the heavy plush duvet, we were tangled together in absolute peace. I was stripped down to just my boxers, my chest completely bare against her soft skin, while Ishita slept soundly against me, beautifully bare and completely shielded from the rest of the world under my heavy embrace. Her long, curly hair was scattered wildly across my chest, and her slim frame** fit so perfectly into the contours of my frame that it felt like she was custom-made just for me.

Suddenly, the harsh, rhythmic buzzing of my phone alarm shattered the serene silence of the room.

My jaw clenched instantly. A low, annoyed grunt rumbled in my chest as I stirred, my muscles tensing against the intrusion. I hated that sound. More importantly, I hated what that sound represented—the outside world demanding the attention of the King of Rajasthan when he only wanted to be the husband of Ishita Rudra Singh Rathor

Careful not to wake her, I shifted my weight onto one elbow, my ocean-blue eyes instantly softening as I looked down at her peaceful, sleeping face. She looked so breathtakingly innocent, her lips parted slightly, completely unaware of the internal battle raging inside me.

I had a massive corporate merger with government officials at 8:00 AM, followed by a state border security briefing. I had to leave.

With practiced, agonizingly slow movements, I slid my large, calloused hand out from underneath her head, gently replacing my arm with a soft feather pillow. But the moment the warmth of my body left her side, Ishita stirred.

She shifted on the mattress, her brow furrowing in a tiny, adorable frown as her hands blindly searched the empty space beside her. Her long eyelashes fluttered open, her sleepy, beautiful brown eyes blinking heavily against the morning light as she looked up at my towering frame hovering over her.

"Going...?" she mumbled, her voice thick, raspy, and incredibly sweet from sleep, sending a sudden, violent jolt of possessiveness straight to my core.

"Yes, Janna," I rumbled in a deep, gravelly morning baritone, leaning right back down until my chest was brushing against hers. I pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the crown of her head, then moved lower, my lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her temple. "I have to. The government ministers are arriving early at the state council chamber."

Ishita let out a tiny, disappointed whine, her hands coming up to grip my bare, muscular shoulders, her red bridal *chooda* clinking softly in the quiet room. "Too early, Ru... stay for ten more minutes."

"Don't tempt me, Ishi," I growled softly against her skin, my large hand sliding under the sheet to find her bare waist, my thumb tracing the glittering diamond waist chain that was still wrapped around her slim figure. "If I stay for ten minutes, I won't step out of this palace for the next ten days. And your mother will personally fly back here to lecture me about ruining her daughter's sleep."

A breathless, beautiful chuckle escaped her lips, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Maa would definitely do that."

I leaned down further, bypassing her lips because I knew if I kissed her mouth, all my restraint would burn to ashes. Instead, I pressed a fierce, worshipful kiss right over the dark, blooming mark I had left on her collarbone last night, making her gasp softly.

"Sleep, my Queen," I whispered against her heated skin, tucking the heavy duvet securely around her bare shoulders, sealing her back into her warm sanctuary. "I’ll have the palace kitchen send up your breakfast. Don't you dare step out of bed until you're fully rested."

"Okay, Patidev," she murmured, already sinking back into the plush pillows, a soft, content smile resting on her face. "Work hard. I'll be waiting for you."

I stared at her for one long, silent moment, my chest swelling with an intense, burning devotion. I memorized the sight of her in my bed before I finally forced myself to stand up, strapping the invisible, heavy armor of the King back on as I walked toward the shower.

The steaming mist from the bathroom slowly dissipated as I walked out, a plush white towel hung loosely around my waist. I glanced at the bed, checking on my **5'3" Janna**. She was still soundly asleep, buried under the duvet like a tiny, precious treasure. A soft smirk touched my lips before I turned and walked into our massive walk-in closet to get dressed.

I scanned the rows of tailored designer clothes, my hand automatically reaching for a dark, crisp formal shirt. But as I pulled it off the hanger, my jaw tightened slightly. The second button was missing—completely broken off.

Usually, this wouldn't even be a minor inconvenience. But a vivid memory flashed in my mind: the domestic habit we'd formed where Ishita loved standing on her tiptoes, her small hands gently doing up my buttons while her red *chooda* jingled against my chest. Since she was deep in her well-deserved sleep, I refused to disturb her sanctuary just for a button.

I tossed the shirt into the laundry bin, pulled out a tailored taupe-grey shirt instead, and paired it with fitted black formal trousers. I fastened my leather belt, strapped on my luxury silver watch, and rolled the sleeves up my forearms, looking every bit the unyielding corporate king the world expected.

Once my laptop bag, files, and phone were packed, I was entirely ready to step out and command the state. Yet, as I reached the bedroom door, my feet completely refused to move. The fiercely possessive, obsessed husband inside me flatly denied leaving the room without marking his territory one last time.

I turned on my heel, my heavy footsteps completely silent against the plush carpet as I walked back to the side of the bed.

I leaned my **6'3" muscular frame** over her sleeping form, the scent of my fresh cologne casting a shadow over her. I lowered my head, pressing a soft, warm kiss to her temple. Then, my lips traveled down to the soft apple of her cheek, lingering there before moving to the curve of her jawline. I pressed a deeper, slow kiss right over the sensitive **moles on her neck**, inhaling her intoxicating scent, before dropping my lips to the bare curve of her shoulder where the duvet had slipped.

"I love you, Janna," I rumbled in a dark, rough morning whisper directly against her skin.

Ishita stirred beautifully under the onslaught of my lips. A soft, breathless *"Mmm... mee too..."* escaped her parted lips, her eyes not even opening as she instinctively leaned into my touch.

A deeply satisfied, possessive smile broke across my face. I couldn't resist. I leaned down and captured her lips in one final, lingering, deeply affectionate kiss that left us both breathless.

Forcing myself to pull away before my control shattered entirely, I stood up, smoothed down my taupe shirt, and finally walked out of the master bedroom.

The heavy, soundproof oak door clicked shut behind me, and with a soft, electronic beep, the biometric security system automatically locked itself from the outside. My Queen was completely sealed inside her royal fortress—safe, untouched, and entirely mine—as I turned down the grand corridor to face the kingdom.

The heavy clicking of my formal shoes echoed sharply through the marble corridors of the Rathor Raj Mahal as I walked down the grand staircase. The soft, possessive warmth of the bedroom vanished with every step I took, replaced by the cold, ruthless efficiency required to rule an empire.

At the bottom of the stairs stood Laksh, my personal assistant and manager. He was already holding a sleek tablet in one hand and a folder of classified government blueprints in the other. The moment his eyes caught my **6'3" muscular frame** descending the steps, he straightened his posture, matching my fast, calculated pace as I headed toward the grand portico.

"Good morning, Boss," Laksh said, his voice crisp and strictly professional. "The ministerial convoy is already five minutes away from the venue. The commerce secretary called twice to confirm if you'll be reviewing the revised land-allocation clauses before the presentation begins."

"I've already reviewed them at three this morning," I rumbled in a cold, unyielding baritone, not even breaking my stride. "The government's proposed percentage is entirely unacceptable. Tell them *The Rathor Company* takes fifty-five percent, or I am pulling our infrastructure investment out of the eastern sector entirely."

Laksh’s fingers flew across the tablet screen, logging the command instantly. "Understood, Sir. I will brief our legal team to draft the ultimatum before we pull up."

We stepped out into the bright morning air where a heavily armored, jet-black luxury SUV was idling under the portico. The royal guard opened the rear door instantly. I slid into the plush leather interior, and Laksh quickly circumvented the vehicle to climb into the passenger side, pulling the door shut with a heavy, solid thud.

The powerful engine purred to life, and the SUV smoothly accelerated past the massive wrought-iron gates of the palace.

The moment we cleared the perimeter, Laksh turned slightly in his seat, bringing up the digital layout of our morning schedule. "The first meeting is a closed-door session with the border development council. They are anxious about the security clearance delays. After that, you have a virtual check-in with Akshat Sir regarding the *Eternity* quarterly targets."

I leaned back against the leather seat, resting my arm on the window sill as my eyes watched the Rajasthani landscape blur past. To the rest of the world, I was the unyielding King and a top five global businessman, calculating every move with a heart of stone.

But as Laksh continued rattling off corporate logistics and government protocols, my hand unconsciously drifted to my chest, my fingers pressing lightly over my taupe shirt-right over my chest . My mind briefly flashed back to the quiet, locked bedroom where my beautiful Queen was still sleeping safely under my sheets.

"Sir?" Laksh's voice broke through my thoughts, hesitant but focused. "Should we schedule the press briefing right after the ministerial meeting?"

"No," I commanded, my voice instantly snapping back into its ruthless, authoritative edge. "Clear my evening schedule by five. I don't care what contracts need signing; my time after five belongs strictly to the palace."

💖 Ishita's Perspective

The soft hum of the biometric lock was a distant memory by the time the warm Rajasthani sunlight fully blanketed the master suite. I stirred slowly, my hand instinctively reaching across the mattress, only to find the sheets cool and empty. A small smile touched my lips. My King was already out ruling his empire.

Stepping into the bathroom, the memory of his lips against my neck made me blush all over again. I took a long, relaxing bath, letting the warm water soothe my muscles. Back in the bedroom, I opened my massive closet and picked out a stunning, deep wine-colored georgette saree. The blouse was intricately detailed with shimmering beadwork along the straps and plunging V-neckline, catching the light beautifully.

Once the pleats were pinned perfectly to my shoulder, I sat down at my vanity. My primary mission? Armed with my premium concealer and setting powder, I carefully masked the fresh, dark crimson marks Rudra had possessively branded into my collarbone and neck just hours prior. Once everything was flawlessly hidden, I clasped my delicate, modern diamond *mangalsutra* around my neck, the five central diamond circles resting precisely below my collarbone. Next came the dramatic, oversized rose-gold statement earrings encrusted with amber-toned crystals that beautifully framed my jawline. Sliding into my shimmering, gold crystal-embellished heels with their clear block style, I gave myself a final look in the mirror. Composed, elegant, and ready.

The silver *payals* on my ankles jingled softly as I walked downstairs to the main living room, the fabric of my wine saree trailing gracefully behind me.

"Good morning, Maa, Bebe," I greeted, stepping into the warm space.

Siya Maa looked up from her morning tablet, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. "Good morning, beta. Look at you, absolutely radiant! Did my stubborn son actually let you sleep, or should I call him right now and scold him?"

"Maa, please!" I laughed, my cheeks turning a slight shade of pink as I sat down beside Bebe. "He left very early for the ministerial meeting. Laksh was already waiting for him."

Bebe patted my knee with her aged hand, her sharp eyes twinkling. "Let him work, let him work. A king must secure his borders. But a queen must ensure he comes back to a warm home. You look stunning today, Ishi. That color suits our Rathore lineage perfectly."

We spent a beautiful hour chatting about the upcoming reception menus, and Dhristi joined us shortly after, bringing a tray of fresh ginger tea. We laughed over how quiet the palace felt without Reet, Vardaan, and Jay around, but the familiar warmth kept me deeply grounded.

By late morning, I headed back up to the master suite to handle my own corporate responsibilities. Just because I was the Ranisa didn't mean my makeup and styling studio in Delhi could run themselves. Setting up my laptop on the heavy mahogany writing desk near the balcony, I spent a couple of hours reviewing portfolios, approving bridal consultation schedules, and holding video calls with my senior staff.

Before logging into a major virtual board meeting with a premium international cosmetics brand for a potential collaboration, I stood up and snapped a few quick pictures of my outfit using the full-length mirror.

A mischievous, loving thought crossed my mind. I opened my chat with Rudra, attached the photos showing the elegant drape of the wine saree, the glittering diamond *mangalsutra*, and the amber earrings, and typed a quick message:

> **To: Patidev 🖤**

> *“Heading into an online corporate board meeting with the international team. How am I looking, King? Or are you too busy with your ministers to notice your Queen? 😉👑”*

I pressed send, a playful smile on my face as I sat back down in front of my laptop, fully aware that no matter how intense his state meeting was, this text would completely disrupt the ruthless Prince of Rajasthan's focus.

My virtual board meeting had been underway for about fifteen minutes. The regional director of the cosmetics brand was mid-sentence, presenting a digital slideshow on global distribution, when my phone—resting flat on the desk right beside my laptop—began to vibrate violently.

I cast a quick glance down, expecting a brief, possessive text response. Instead, my breath hitched.

The screen wasn't flashing a message. It was a direct FaceTime video call, the caller ID boldly displaying **Patidev 🖤**.

A rush of heat flooded my cheeks. *Is he insane?* He was supposed to be in the middle of a high-level government presentation with state ministers! I quickly tapped the volume button to mute the ringing, trying to maintain my best professional expression for the twenty corporate executives staring at me through my laptop screen.

I couldn't answer a video call right now. I declined it, quickly typing beneath the desk: *“I’m literally in the middle of the presentation, Ru! I can’t talk right now.”*

Not even three seconds passed before the screen lit up again. Another FaceTime call.

He was completely ignoring my text. The unyielding King of Rajasthan didn't care about corporate etiquette or international time zones; when he wanted to see his Queen, the entire world had to wait.

Muting my microphone on the laptop and turning my camera off for a brief "technical break," I hurriedly swiped to answer the call, holding the phone up.

The screen cleared instantly, and I found myself staring at Rudra . He was sitting at the head of a massive, polished mahogany conference table. In the background, the blurred figures of three state ministers and Laksh were visible, their expressions frozen in absolute shock as their unyielding ruler abruptly halted a multi-billion-rupee state briefing just to look at his phone.

Rudra’s **ocean-blue eyes** narrowed instantly as they swept over my screen, his gaze locking onto the plunging neckline of my deep wine georgette saree.

"Rudra!" I hissed in a low, panicked whisper, keeping my eyes darting toward my laptop screen. "Are you out of your mind? I told you I'm in a board meeting!"

"I don't give a damn about your board meeting, Janna," his deep, rough baritone rumbled through the speaker, completely cold and unyielding to the world, but fiercely intense for me. He loosened his collar slightly, his jaw set in a rigid, possessive line. "Who else is on that call? How many men are looking at you right now?"

I rolled my eyes, though my heart was hammering against my ribs from his sheer audacity. "It's an international corporate team, Ru! It's business! Why did you video call me in front of the ministers?"

"Because you sent me those pictures intentionally to torture me," he growled softly, his gaze dropping to the five diamond circles of my *mangalsutra* resting against my skin, then tracking up to the amber crystals framing my jawline. A dark, dangerous smirk played on his lips. "You look breathtaking, Ishi. But that blouse is a direct provocation. Turn your laptop camera off. Right now."

"I will not!" I whispered fiercely, a small, stubborn pout forming on my lips. "I am the owner of my studio, and I have to present our portfolio. You rule your state, let me rule my business, Patidev!"

Behind him on the screen, I saw Laksh awkwardly clear his throat, holding a file out. *"Uh, sir... the commerce secretary is asking if we can resume the land-allocation clause..."*

Rudra didn't even turn his head. He merely raised his large hand, a single, cold gesture that instantly silenced his entire boardroom. His oceanic eyes remained completely glued to me.

"You have five minutes to wrap up that meeting, Queen," Rudra commanded, his voice dropping into that dangerously low, possessive register that always made my knees weak. "If your camera stays on for longer than that, I am ordering Laksh to pull the plug on the palace internet servers from here."

"You wouldn't dare!" I gasped, utterly scandalized.

"Try me, Janna," he murmured, his thumb brushing against his phone screen right over my face, his eyes burning with an obsessive hunger that told me he was entirely serious. "Hurry up. I'm coming home early. And the moment I walk through that biometric door, I am personally ripping that wine saree off your body."

Before I could even process his shameless threat, the screen went black. He hung up.

I sat there for a full ten seconds, staring at my phone, my cheeks burning a fiery red that perfectly matched my saree. I quickly smoothed down my hair, took a deep breath to compose my racing heart, and switched my laptop camera back on—fully aware that I now had exactly four minutes to dismiss an international

board of directors before the King of Rajasthan entirely lost his mind.