chapter 2
RUDRA pov
In a few minutes, I reached home.
Not that it felt like one.
This place only gave me one feeling: suffocation.
The moment I stepped inside—
"Oh, welcome, my beta!"
Swetha Singh Rajput. My so-called stepmother.
Her smile was too sweet—like poison dipped in honey.
I rolled my eyes.
"Can you drop the drama? No one’s watching."
My voice was clipped, irritated.
I didn’t wait for a reply. I headed straight for the stairs.
---
I stepped into my room—the only place that felt remotely mine.
Dark, rich, familiar.
Marble floors gleamed under the warm lighting, mahogany wood panels lined the walls.
Black velvet drapes guarded the windows like secrets.
The air smelled of leather, cologne, and the kind of silence I craved.
I stripped off my shirt and stepped into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, I re-emerged—toweling off. I pulled on a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, then walked to my private bar.
Whiskey. One pour. One sip.
Burning peace.
---
AT NIGHT
I usually avoid dinners with this family.
Family.
That word... disgusts me.
Not because I’m heartless—
But because they are.
But today, for my grandmother’s sake, I showed up.
As I stepped into the dining hall, every pair of eyes turned to me.
I ignored them.
Sat down. No expressions. No interest.
The table was elegance carved in marble, plated in silence and tension.
---
AUTHOR POV
The Rajput family gathered around the extravagant dinner table.
"Well, look who graced us with his presence," Sunita—Rudra’s aunt—quipped with a smug smile.
"Sunita, stop taunting my son," Swetha replied sweetly, though she was clearly enjoying it.
"Shut up! Both of you."
Rudra’s grandmother’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Her stern eyes landed on Rudra.
"Rudra beta, I’m glad you joined us."
He gave a silent nod, still scrolling through his phone, barely touching his food.
"But beta, you’re thirty now... don’t you think it’s time you got married?"
"Marriage?!" Sunita scoffed.
"Who would give their daughter to someone so cold and heartless?"
She chuckled cruelly.
Just then, footsteps echoed from the corridor.
Veer—Sunita’s 21-year-old son—breezed in with his usual charm.
"Whose marriage are we planning, Grandma?" he asked playfully.
"Rudra’s," she replied with a hopeful smile.
Veer grinned and began browsing pictures of girls from his phone. After a few minutes:
"Grandma! I found her! Look at this one—she’s gorgeous. Perfect for Bhaiya!"
The moment his grandmother saw the picture, her face paled.
Her hands trembled. Her breath caught.
"What’s wrong, Grandma?" Veer asked.
Before she could respond, Sunita snatched the picture. Her expression twisted in disgust.
"Ishni Oberoi?! Oh God, this girl—are you serious, Veer?"
"Why? What’s wrong with her?" he asked, confused.
Sunita leaned back, her voice dripping with venom.
"She’s a monster. A criminal. Once married to a politician, but had many affairs despite that. When he filed a case against her, she butchered him. Cut him into pieces. She’s been in prison for two years. And get this—she was a lawyer."
The air grew still. Words died in throats.
A storm had passed through the room—but only one person felt its full weight.
Rudra.
Something shifted in him.
He stood abruptly and left, his plate barely touched.
"Sunita! Throw that picture away. Now!"
His grandmother’s voice shook with finality.
---
BUT TRUTH HIDES BEHIND SILENCE
The world knew only what it had been shown.
Not what had been silenced.
Not what had been buried.
---
SOMEWHERE ELSE
A scream pierced the night.
In the depths of a dark forest, two men loomed over a girl.
Her face pale.
Tears stained her cheeks.
Her body bruised and bleeding.
Her lips trembled.
"N-no... please... I beg you..."
But they didn’t stop.
They were monsters wearing human flesh.
And they laughed.
When they left her, she was a broken, lifeless shape on the ground.
But her mind was still screaming.
“Get up! GET UP!”
With shaking hands, she clawed at the tree for support.
Legs trembling. Blood dripping.
But she rose.
Unsteady. Weak.
But she walked.
She survived.
---
RUDRA’S POV
Every second in this house felt heavier than the last.
Like I was suffocating in luxury.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I got into my car and drove.
Nowhere in mind. Just... away.
The cold air outside, the empty roads, the silence—it was soothing.
But then... her name echoed in my mind again.
Ishni Oberoi.
Who was she really?
Suddenly, I slammed the brakes.
A figure appeared on the side of the road.
Weak. Bloody. Barely standing.
I turned off the engine, squinted through the darkness.
A woman. Barefoot. Wounded. Drenched in blood.
A living corpse.
My breath hitched. My chest tightened.
“Save me... no... please... help...”
The voice in my head—sharp, haunting, real.
I gulped down some water, steadying myself.
Got out of the car.
I approached carefully.
She was shaking, her skin cold to the touch. Her lips moved faintly.
“Is... Ishu...”
She barely whispered. Then, she handed me a piece of paper.
And collapsed in my arms like the life had drained out of her.
I looked down.
The letter in my hands.
Bold letters stared back at me:
“ISHNI OBEROI.”