Page 71 of The Defiant Wife

Too quiet.

The board got exactly what they wanted. Diya and I are married now. The PR problem has been solved permanently, which means my official role at the NGO is over. There is no reason for me to go back.

I should be relieved.

Instead, there's an irritating sense of emptiness sitting at the back of my mind.

My gaze drifts toward the grandfather clock in the corner before I catch myself calculating how long it would take to drive to the NGO.

Ridiculous. Completely pointless. Yet somehow I still do it.

It turns out I had grown used to the chaos.

I had liked it.

No matter how many times a child tried to wipe sticky fingers on my clothes or how many arguments Diya and I had over her refusal to listen to my suggestions, the place felt alive. Nobody cared that I was a prince. Nobody treated me differently. To them, I was just a large, grumpy man who stood in doorways and got in everyone's way.

Now my office feels sterile.

The heavy doors swing open without warning.

I don't even look up.

Only one person in this palace is reckless enough to walk into my office without knocking.

I sigh.

Vihaan strolls in with a grin that immediately makes me suspicious. He drops a leather portfolio onto my desk and leans casually against it, arms crossed.

"You look miserable," he says cheerfully. "Did someone cancel your biking plans? Or is this the tragic face of a newly married man who misses his wife?"

I slowly lift my gaze. I don't say a word. Instead, I raise my hand and flip him off.

Vihaan bursts out laughing. "Very mature, Your Highness. Truly inspiring leadership."

"Get to the point, Vihaan."

His grin fades slightly. Business mode. "The internet is still a disaster."

I sigh. Of course it is.

"People are still talking about those leaked photos," he continues. "The story hasn't died down. Now everyone's creating theories about whether the marriage was forced to cover up some royal scandal."

My jaw tightens.

"We're married. Problem should be solved."

"Not for the public." He shakes his head. "People want a story, Veeraj. They want romance. If we don't give them one, they'll create their own. And right now half the internet thinks you're some tyrant who forced a girl into marriage."

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

"You and Diya need to do a joint interview."

The pen in my hand freezes. "No."

"Yes."

"No."