The Rebel Heiress: Raised as a Son

Chapter 7: The Prince and the Puppet

The morning air at Delhi Elite University was thick with a tension only Abhi could feel. She stood at the entrance of the campus, her fingers trembling slightly as she adjusted the cuff of her expensive tuxedo shirt. For twenty years, she had been the one people feared. Today, she was a prisoner of her own secret.

"You're late, Assistant."

The voice was like silk, yet it cut through Abhi like a blade. She turned to find Dev Malhotra leaning against his silver sports car, looking effortlessly handsome in a tailored black shirt. He held a cold cup of coffee in his hand, his eyes dancing with a cruel amusement.

"I am exactly on time, Dev," Abhi growled, her husky voice low.

"In my world, on time is late," Dev said, tossing his car keys toward her. Abhi caught them instinctively. "The car needs a wash. And after that, you're carrying my books to the auditorium. My usual assistant is... let’s just say, on a permanent vacation."

Abhi’s knuckles turned white. "Dev, don't push me. I'm doing this because I have to, not because I'm weak."

Dev stepped closer, his shadow looming over her. He leaned in, whispering against her ear so only she could hear, "You're doing this because if you don't, I'll tell the entire student body exactly why the 'Crown Prince' wears a chest binder. Now, move."

The auditorium was packed. It was the annual 'Elite Gala' rehearsal, and every influential student was there. Abhi, the fearsome heir of the Singh Empire, was seen walking three steps behind Dev Malhotra, carrying his heavy leather bag. The whispers started instantly.

"Is that Abhi Singh? Carrying Dev's bag?"

"What's going on? Did the Singhs lose a bet?"

Maya, who had been watching from the front row, stood up in shock. "Abhi! What are you doing? Why are you following this... this Malhotra?"

Abhi didn't look up. She couldn't. If she looked into Maya's eyes, or anyone's eyes, her mask would shatter. But Dev wasn't done. He sat down on the central velvet chair, stretching his legs out.

"Abhi, I'm thirsty. Get me water. Not the tap water—get the imported mineral water from the VIP lounge," Dev ordered loudly, making sure everyone heard.

"Get it yourself," Abhi hissed under her breath.

Dev looked at her, his dark eyes turning cold. He tapped his phone screen, showing a photo he had taken of the jasmine oil bottle in her room. "The water, Abhi. Now."

Abhi’s breath hitched. She turned around and walked toward the lounge, her heart burning with a mixture of rage and humiliation. Every step felt like she was walking on glass. When she returned and handed him the bottle, Dev took it, but as he did, he purposely let his fingers linger on hers. The touch was electrical—a spark of hatred and something else she didn't want to acknowledge.

"Good boy," Dev smirked, his eyes scanning her face. "Now, stay here. I want you to watch me lead the rehearsal. You might learn how a real leader acts."

The rehearsal began, but Abhi didn't see anything. She was focused on the way Dev moved—his confidence, his power, and the way he looked at her every few minutes as if checking if his 'prize' was still there.

After the rehearsal, the campus was nearly empty. Dev led her to the rooftop, the wind whipping Abhi’s short hair. He turned to face her, the sunset casting a golden glow on his sharp features.

"Why are you doing this, Dev?" Abhi asked, her voice shaking with suppressed emotion. "If you know my secret, just tell the world and be done with it. Why torture me like this?"

Dev walked toward her, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He stopped when they were chest-to-chest. He reached out, his hand slowly tracing the line of her jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle yet terrifying.

"Because, Abhi," he whispered, his eyes dark with a dangerous obsession. "Destroying you would be too easy. I want to see you break. I want to see the moment you stop being the 'Prince' and start being... yourself. For me."

Abhi shoved his hand away. "That will never happen."

"We'll see," Dev smiled, a predator watching its prey. "Tomorrow is the campus camping trip. You’re coming with me. In my tent. Alone."

Abhi’s blood turned to ice. A tent? Alone? That was the one place she couldn't hide her identity. "I won't go."

"You will," Dev said, turning to walk away. "Unless you want the jasmine scent to reach your father's ears by tonight."

As the sun set, Abhi stood alone on the rooftop, the weight of her secret feeling like a mountain. The camping trip was a trap, and she was walking straight into the devil's arms.