chapter 11
Ishni pov
I slowly opened my eyes as the sun began to rise. I tried to get up, but Rudra's arms were wrapped around me tightly like a koala. I looked at him-his face glowing golden under the morning light. He looked so innocent.
"Kya maal hai," I giggled, brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes.
"Don't disturb my man," I whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his nose.
"Don't you think it's a crime to touch someone without permission, jaan?" he murmured, eyes still closed.
My eyes widened in surprise.
My eyes widened in surprise.
"Excuse me?" I huffed, pretending to be offended. "After holding me hostage all night like a teddy bear, you want to talk about consent?"
Rudra smirked, eyes still shut. "That's emotional support. Very legal."
I rolled my eyes and tried to wriggle free, but he pulled me in even tighter, burying his face in the crook of my neck. His breath was warm, tickling my skin.
"Five more minutes," he mumbled.
"Rudra..." I said, half-scolding, half-melting. "We'll be late."
"I'll take the blame," he whispered, and I could feel the smile on his lips. "Let the world wait. I've got heaven right here."
I went silent. My fingers found their way to his hair again, gently playing with the strands. For a moment, time really did feel paused-just sunlight, soft sheets, and the quiet beating of hearts that didn't want to be anywhere else.
I looked at him, trying not to smile, but failing. "You know we can't hide here forever."
"Why not?" he asked, tracing lazy circles on my arm with his fingers. "Let's quit everything. Run away. Open a small café in the mountains. You bake. I burn toast."
I laughed softly, my forehead resting against his. "You'd get bored in two days."
"True," he admitted
But before I could say anything, he poked my side.
"Now seriously," he grinned, "what did you mean by 'kya maal hai', hmm? Flirting with your own husband in his sleep?"
I gasped dramatically. "You heard that?!"
"I hear everything, jaan. Especially when it feeds my ego."
Suddenly, his father's voice echoed, calling him downstairs,
"Your father's calling," I said, nudging him gently.
He didn't react at first. Just a soft, "Hmm."
Then, after a moment, he sat up. "You stay here. I'll be back."
"But-" I started, reaching for his hand.
Before I could finish, he turned to me with that familiar teasing smirk.
"Jaan, you need rest. After yesterday's... activities."
"Shut up, Rudra," I groaned, pouting.
He laughed under his breath, leaned down, and kissed my forehead.
"I'll be back," he whispered.
Author pov
The moment Rudra came downstairs, he saw them both - his father and her. The stepmother he barely acknowledged as family. The moment he laid eyes on them, the warmth he'd carried from upstairs evaporated.
He hated this. Hated them.
"What do you want?" Rudra said coldly, not bothering with pleasantries.
His father stood, veins visible on his forehead. "Do you even know what you've done?"
Beside him, his stepmother clutched her dupatta dramatically, like some bad theatre.
Rudra raised an eyebrow. "Care to explain?"
His father stepped forward, voice rising. "You burned down the warehouse! There were people inside!"
The words thundered across the room - but Rudra didn't flinch. His eyes stayed locked, calm yet dangerous.
"Stop acting," he said, voice low but razor-sharp. "That place was already a wreck - and those people were warned. This wasn't an accident. This was a message."
His father's face darkened. "A message? To whom?"
Rudra turned slightly, glaring past his father - straight at the woman beside him.
"It was her," he said flatly. "Your wife. She dared to call people. Paid them. Sent them to insult my wife."
The room fell silent.
"If I have to burn a thousand warehouses every time someone disrespects her," Rudra continued, "I'll do it. Without a second thought. No hesitation."
His stepmother gasped. "How dare you-"
"No," Rudra snapped. "How dare you. You think I won't protect what's mine? You think I'm still that boy who swallowed every insult in silence? Not anymore."
His father looked stunned - torn between fury and something closer to fear.
Rudra took a step closer.
"She's not just the woman I love," he said. "She's the reason I didn't become one of you."
And with that, he turned his back on them both.As Rudra turned to leave, his father's voice cut through the air - cold, sharp.
"Is this how you talk to your mother, Rudra?"
He froze.
Slowly, he turned back, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You mean your wife," he said. "Let's not pretend she's anything more than that."
His stepmother's face flushed with offense, but Rudra wasn't done.
"A mother doesn't plant poison in her son's life. A mother doesn't hire people to humiliate the woman he loves. A mother doesn't spend years trying to erase him from the family."
His father's jaw tightened. "She raised you."
"No," Rudra said. "She tolerated me. There's a difference."
The silence was thick now - the kind that stings.
"I've stayed quiet for years," Rudra continued. "Let you two twist every truth, feed lies, play perfect. But not anymore. The moment she touched my wife with her filth - that was the last line."
He stepped closer again, his presence towering now.
"You want to call that woman my mother?" he scoffed. "Then maybe you've forgotten what a mother is."
His stepmother turned away, trembling. His father looked like he wanted to speak - but the words wouldn't come.
Rudra took one final look at them.
"She," he said firmly, "the woman upstairs - she is my home. Not this place. And certainly not either of you."
Then he turned and walked away - steps steady, heart thundering, the sound of their silence behind him like a door finally slamming shut.
??
Swetha stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her.
"How dare he! How dare he!" she shouted, her voice shaking with rage.
She grabbed a pillow and hurled it across the room, followed by her books, one by one.
"Ahhh!" she screamed, gripping her hair in frustration.
"How dare he insult me like that... in front of everyone! "
Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with "k Calling..."
She froze, mid-rant, chest heaving.
Of all times...
"K-our plan failed again," she hissed. "He was two steps ahead, like he knew. The van was a decoy! We nearly walked into a trap!"
K said with a smirk, "Don't worry, Swetha. We haven't failed. The media will handle everything."
"What do you mean, k?" Swetha asked, confused.
"Just wait and watch," he said before hanging up the call.
Ishni pov
I couldn't explain it, but something felt off.
Just then, the door creaked open. Rudra walked in with a smile.
"Jaan, I brought breakfast," he said, holding up the tray.
"Rudra, is everything okay? What did your father say?" she asked, the questions spilling out in a rush.
He smiled gently, placing a finger on her lips.
"Shh... everything is fine. You don't need to worry."
She nod, but not believing, "Alright, enough of that," he said with a playful grin. "You still haven't given me my morning kiss."
She raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Oh? So now you're keeping track of kisses too?"
Rudra chuckled, leaning a little closer.
"Absolutely. It's a matter of national importance."
She pretended to think for a second, then gently pushed his face away.
"Hmm... I'm not sure you've earned it yet."
He gasped dramatically.
"Jaan! After I brought you breakfast and peace of mind?"
She giggled, finally leaning in and brushing a soft kiss on his cheek.
"There. Happy now?"
He pouted.
"That was the trailer. I want the full movie."
Before she could answer, the door creaked again-this time, with urgency.
A voice called out from the hallway, breaking their moment:
"Rudra! You need to see this. It's all over the news."
Their eyes met. The warmth faded slightly as tension crept back in.