Page 57 of The Defiant Wife

Not ‘how are you feeling.’Not ‘are you okay.’Not ‘this must be difficult.’Just don't embarrass us.Same as always.

I shouldn't care.I really shouldn't.I've heard worse.Much worse.Yet something inside me aches anyway. Because no matter how old I get . . . some stupid part of me still wants my parents to act like parents.

My mother finally looks up from her phone."Fix your hair and don't show that attitude."

I almost laugh.Because that's apparently their biggest concern. Not me. Not the situation. Not my feelings. My personality.Their adopted daughter causing inconvenience is their concern.

Again.

The familiar loneliness settles heavily inside my chest.I've carried it for so long it feels like a second heartbeat.

The driver opens my door.Chilly air rushes inside making me shiver a bit.I take a slow breath before stepping out.

The palace stands before me.

My parents walk ahead without waiting. I watch them go. For a second. Just one second. Then square my shoulders and follow. Because whatever is waiting inside . . . I'm going to face it.

Even if that means facing Veeraj Singh Shekhawat.

And honestly?That might be the most terrifying part of all.

16. WHAT DID I SAY?

VEERAJ

I know something is wrong the moment they walk into the room.

Not because of her father. Not because of her mother. Because of her.

Diya walks in behind them, and for the first time since I've met her, she's quiet.Painfully quiet.

The woman who argues over everything. The woman who somehow finds a reason to challenge every opinion I have. The woman who treats me like an inconvenience one minute and a personal project the next.

Gone.

She keeps her gaze lowered.Her shoulders are stiff.Her hands folded tightly in front of her.And something about it immediately puts me in a foul mood.

Devraj bhai sa greets them warmly, inviting them to sit.The meeting begins exactly how I expected.

Politely. Formally. Diplomatically. For approximately five minutes.

Then her father starts talking.And everything goes downhill."We have always respected the royal family," Mr. Goyal says, shaking his head dramatically. "But this situation has been very difficult for us."

I remain silent.Bhai sa nods."We understand your concerns."

"A girl's reputation is delicate, Maharaj sa."

My jaw tightens.Beside him, Diya's mother sits silently.Not once looking at her daughter. Not once.

It's strange.

I've only met these people for five minutes and already something feels . . . off.

Bhai sa folds his hands together calmly.

"The photograph should never have happened. It was a breach of privacy on our end. We will do everything in our rights to rectify the situation."

The words are reasonable. Measured. Exactly what a king should say.Yet Mr. Goyal doesn't look satisfied.In fact, he looks almost excited.Like he's waiting for something.