A Royal Lie (Book1) - Drapped in Secrets
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- Partes 104
The classroom was a madhouse.
The entire second floor echoed with chaos - laughter, screeches, kids flinging bags, dancing on benches, and tearing papers. The final exams were over, 9th grade had officially ended, and a month holiday lay ahead before the grind of 10th grade began.
It was the last day of school.
It was everything that screamed madness.
But she sat still at her desk, face turned towards the window, unmoved by the noise around her. Ever since that day, no more messages. No strange calls. Nothing.
Yet the silence didn't bring peace.
It brought something worse - unease.
He had tried tracking the number, but it was already deactivated. No trace left behind. No loose ends. Just enough to keep her wondering.
Across the room, Harpreet Ma'am was chatting with her favorite group - the teacher's pets, as everyone called them. She barely paid them any attention. A heavy feeling hung in her chest, like a storm cloud. Something was coming.
Something big.
Something no one - especially not her - was ready for.
And it proved true when the receptionist walked into the class, holding a gate pass with the name that no one had taken in years...
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"Humpe vishvaas karti hai aap?" He asked, his voice deep, touched with something possessive, something intimate. (Do you trust me?) His fingers found the lace at her back, toying with it slowly. His eyes never left hers-watchful, patient. It wasn't just about trust. It was a question laced with heat, with meaning. There was a pause. Not of doubt, but of weight. Then her lips curved in a quiet smile, soft as a petal opening to dawn. "Khudse bhi adhik." (More than myself.) That was all he needed. He lifted her without a word-her giggle light, her bangles chiming. Her ghagra fluttered as he carried her inside. The bed waited, simple and quiet. He laid her down like a prayer, eyes never leaving hers. Their lips met-slow, aching. Her fingers undressed him. Clothes fell. Skin met skin. Under the sheet, he moved with her-gentle, deep, worshipful. She gasped, clung to him, whispered his name. One rhythm. One afternoon. One unspoken truth.
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