Page 5 of Claimed By the Maharaja
A stone struck the hood with a sharp crack. The driver stiffened immediately.
Bharat did not react.
He adjusted the cuff of his tailored charcoal suit, precise and practiced. His custom-tinted sunglasses dulled the glare that could overwhelm him. In their dark surface, the crowd reflected as a blur of movement and fury.
His driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Sir, should we wait until—”
“Drive in.”
The car rolled forward.
Protesters surged. Cameras flashed. Another object struck the side of the car. Security tightened formation immediately.
Bharat did not look up.
At the gates, the security chief hurried forward. “Your Highness—”
Bharat lifted a hand.
Silence.
The man stepped back instantly.
The sleek black car slid inside. The heavy steel gates shut with a hydraulic hiss, sealing out the chaos. Inside the compound, order resumed. Machines moved in rhythm. Guards shifted in sync. Every motion was deliberate.
That was how he preferred it.
Bharat stepped out, his tall frame cutting a sharp silhouette against the glass façade of headquarters. The morning sun caught on his sunglasses as he adjusted his jacket.
He didn’t glance around. He didn’t need to.
He knew where everyone stood. The receptionist was three meters to his left, stiff with nerves. The security chief was breathing too quickly behind him. Imran, his assistant, was waiting exactly ten steps ahead with a tablet.
“Good morning, sir,” Imran said, falling into step beside him.
Bharat inclined his head once.
The marble-floored lobby gleamed, faintly scented with polish and steel dust. Clean. Efficient. And predictable. Machines were honest. But people often were not.
Imran spoke efficiently. “The protests began before sunrise. Local media picked it up. Social channels are calling it the largest demonstration yet.”
“Trace the funding,” Bharat said. “Quietly.”
Imran blinked once. “Yes, sir.”
They walked toward the elevator. The mirrored walls reflected Imran’s tension and Bharat’s stillness.
“Your office is ready for the investor call in thirty minutes,” Imran continued. “The Singapore board is awaiting final approval on expansion.”
“Approval can wait.”
“Yes, sir.” A pause. “The chief minister’s daughter, Tina Mehta, has requested a meeting regarding sustainability initiatives. There’s an event scheduled in four weeks, but given the protests, should we move it up?”
Bharat turned his head slightly, just enough for Imran to see the reflection of his face in dark lenses. “No.”
Imran nodded. “Understood, Your Highness.”
The elevator doors opened.
