Page 103 of Claimed By the Maharaja
Before Pooja could ask anything more, Yamini turned slightly and addressed the exhibition hostess standing nearby.
“What’s the price?”
The hostess smiled politely, preparing to answer when another voice cut in.
“Well, well. I didn’t expect to see you here, Miss Dhar.”
The voice was smooth. Familiar. And laced with quiet superiority.
Yamini turned.
Tina stood a few feet away, impeccably dressed in designer silk, diamonds gleaming at her ears and wrist. Her gaze moved over Yamini slowly, deliberately, lingering on the lack of jewelry, the practical shoes, the absence of anything that screamedstatus.
A smile curved Tina’s lips. It wasn’t warm.
“This exhibition is quite exclusive,” Tina continued lightly. “Most people come here knowing they can actually purchase what they’re admiring.”
Pooja bristled instantly. “Excuse me—”
Yamini squeezed Pooja’s hand subtly while she met Tina’s gaze. “I wasn’t aware there was a dress code or an income requirement for appreciating art.”
Tina’s smile tightened, just a fraction. “There isn’t. Officially.” Tina turned to the hostess. “What’s the base price on this piece?”
The hostess hesitated, then quoted the figure.
It was astronomical.
A ripple of interest passed through the nearby listeners. Pooja inhaled sharply but kept quiet.
Tina looked back at Yamini, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “Can you afford it, Miss Dhar?”
The question hung there, designed to humiliate. Yamini felt the weight of it.
Her hand moved involuntarily toward her bag before she stopped it.
The sleek black card was there. Had been there, untouched, since the first breakfast at the Jogra palace.
She thought of Bharat Jogra placing it beside her plate without looking at her.
She then thought of her ex-husband, who had helped himself to her money, leaving her bankrupt.
She dropped her hand.
Some things you didn't buy with someone else's money. Not because you couldn't, but because of what it would mean if you did.
Yamini knew she could easily reply yes to Tina’s question. But she didn’t.
There was a smug look on Tina’s face before she turned to the hostess. “I’ll be buying it.”
“The bidding closes tomorrow evening, Miss Mehta,” the hostess said.
“Oh, I’ll win for sure,” Tina replied without hesitation.
She looked at Yamini one last time. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the next factory shoot, Miss Dhar. Although I doubt you’d be allowed to stay long.”
With that parting shot, Tina Mehta walked away.
As Tina disappeared into the crowd, Pooja let out a sharp breath, her hands curling into fists. She leaned in close, her voice tight with outrage.
