chapter 28
Time skip
Rudra pov
I walked into the basement,The screams had stopped. Not because the pain had ended—
Because their throats couldn’t scream anymore.
The four of them lay tied in metal chairs bolted to the floor. Hands twisted. Faces unrecognizable. Sweat, blood, tears — all blended into one. And yet… I hadn’t even started.
I cracked my neck and looked at them. “You see, death is easy. I don’t want that for you.”
I walked to the far end of the basement where a black chest sat — heavy, locked, sacred to my madness. I unlocked it, each click echoing like a clock counting their sins.
Inside: blades, pliers, a blowtorch… salt, chili powder, even lemon juice. All neat. All clean. For now.
“You dared to touch what’s mine,” I said, picking up the pliers. “Now I’ll teach your fingers what pain means.”
I walked to the man who smiled during the first blow. He wasn’t smiling now.
“Open his mouth,” I ordered. Two of my men came forward. He fought, but his strength was long gone.
I held up a small iron nail. “One for each filthy word you whispered to her.”
He shook his head violently. “Please—PLEASE—don’t—”
Tap. Tap.
The nail slid into his lower gum. I brought down the mini hammer once.
He screamed, body convulsing, but the chair held tight.
Blood flooded his mouth. Another nail. Another scream. The other men cried, watching, begging for their turn to be skipped.
I walked over to the one with the silver ring, i removed from his hand.
"Nice ring,” I said. “Want it back?”
He whimpered.
I heated it with the blowtorch until it turned red, smoke rising. Then I pressed it onto his chest—slowly.
The sound of burning flesh. The smell. The scream.
I looked at him dead in the eyes. “This is my mark. Carry it to your grave.”
Then… I dragged the big bucket of crushed glass near them.
“You’ll walk barefoot on this by morning. Crawl if you want. But you’ll reach the door only when I allow.”
One of them muttered, “You’re a monster…”
I crouched down, grabbed his bloodied chin, and whispered near his ear:
“No. I’m her shadow. And shadows don’t beg. They break.”
I stood and turned to Vipul. “Nobody dies. Not until I say. Let them live with this memory.”
He nodded. “Yes, boss.”
I looked at the four of them, barely breathing, trembling messes of who they once were.
I looked at Vipul, wiping my bloodied hands with a white cloth now stained in crimson.
"Keep torturing them," I said, my voice calm—too calm. "But make sure they don’t die. I want them alive. I want them to remember every scream. Every broken bone. Every second of what hell on earth feels like."
Vipul nodded immediately, his expression unreadable but alert. "Understood, boss."
I tossed the stained cloth on the ground, near their feet. Let them see it. Let them know—That I walked out clean.
While they bled like pigs behind me.
Without another word, I turned around and walked away. My boots echoed in the basement like a heartbeat getting slower... colder.
At night
Ishni POV
I came home, exhaustion dripping from every cell in my body. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I walked in, my eyes barely staying open. The moment I stepped inside, the familiar warmth of our mansion wrapped around me—but what I needed the most right now… was him.
I looked up and saw him, sitting on the couch with his laptop resting on his lap, eyes focused, the blue light flickering against his sharp features.
Without saying a word, I walked straight to him.
He noticed, of course. Rudra always did.
Before he could even react, I gently took the laptop from his lap and set it aside. And then without hesitation, I climbed into his lap, straddling him and burying my face in his chest, as if I could melt into him and leave the rest of the world outside.
He didn’t ask anything.
He didn’t speak a single word.
He just… held me.
One hand cradled the back of my head, fingers running softly through my hair, while the other wrapped firmly around my waist, shielding me like armor.
In that moment, I didn’t need explanations, or questions, or even soothing words.
I just needed him.
And he… gave me everything without asking for anything.
"Jaan… when is your next hearing for Naina's case?" he asked softly, his voice low and tender as his fingers gently played with my hair.
I rested my head against his chest and whispered, “In two days…”
He nodded slowly, pulling me closer. “Exhausted?” he asked, kissing the side of my head.
I let out a small sigh, “Hmm… a lot. One of my colleagues didn’t show up today, so he handed over his new intern to me... and Rudra, God, they were chaotic,” I rolled my eyes dramatically, “One of them didn’t even know where the HR office was, and another spilled coffee on a file!”
Rudra chuckled under his breath, his hand tracing lazy circles on my back. “So my fierce lioness turned into a daycare manager today?”
“Shut up!” I giggled, slapping his chest lightly. “I was so done by the afternoon, I swear. And the judge from a different case kept delaying—oh! And someone from admin also—”
He cupped my face, making me look up into his eyes, his tone serious but filled with warmth. “And yet here you are… still standing, still shining. Damn, jaan.... do you even realize how incredible you are?”
I blinked, then smiled softly. “Only when you say it.”
He smirked, brushing his nose against mine. “Toh sun lo… you’re unstoppable, jaan. The world will shake when you walk into that courtroom. But until then…” he paused, standing up with me still in his arms, “…no more work. Just rest. Tonight, you’re mine. Let the world wait.”
And with that, he carried me to our room like I weighed nothing at all.
After some time, he made sure I ate properly—didn’t even let me move until the plate was clean.
Then he scooped me in his arms like always and gently laid me on the bed.
The room was dim, peaceful, and wrapped in the warmth of his presence.
I rested my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, letting it lull the chaos in my mind.
"Jaan…" he whispered softly, his fingers brushing through my hair.
"Mm?" I hummed, half-sleepy.
He took a deep breath. "Tomorrow… you're going to fight for yourself."
I blinked slowly and looked up at him in confusion. “For… myself?”
He nodded, locking eyes with me. “Yes. For your panic attacks. For your nightmares. For that girl who had to pretend she wasn’t shattered. I want you to show them, jaan... that touching you was the biggest mistake they ever made.”
I stared at him, words stuck in my throat.
He continued, voice deep and unwavering, “You don’t need to bury that night anymore. You don’t need to pretend it didn’t affect you. Let the courtroom see not just the lawyer, not just my wife... but the warrior who rose from a nightmare and turned it into a weapon.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, but this time… they didn’t feel weak. They felt strong. Raw.
"I believe in you," he whispered, placing a kiss on my forehead. "And I want the world to see the fire I fell in love with."
I clutched his shirt tighter and closed my eyes. For the first time, I didn’t feel like a victim.
I felt like fire.
Author’s POV
The air was heavy. Silent. But not the kind of silence that brings peace—this silence felt like the calm before a thunderstorm.
Both Rudra and Ishni stood in front of the iron doors of the basement—the place where monsters were kept alive just to witness their own doom. Rudra’s hand gently held Ishni’s. A silent promise. A signal that no matter how dark the storm got, she’d never walk into it alone.
"You have me at your back," he said, his voice low but powerful—like a vow whispered into fate itself.
Ishni nodded, her eyes cold as ice yet burning like fire. This wasn’t the soft-spoken girl anymore. This was a woman reborn from ashes. This was the face of vengeance—elegant, fierce, and untouchable.
Together they stepped in.
The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit basement. Chains. Screams. Blood that had dried over screams from hours before. The air reeked of fear and iron.
The four men—once predators—now sat on the floor like wounded animals. Tied, bruised, swollen beyond recognition. The sight of Rudra walking in with Ishni beside him—dressed sharply, holding her head high—made their souls freeze.
And yet, neither of them flinched.
Rudra and Ishni looked like a deadly dream—beautiful and terrifying all at once. A king and queen of wrath walking through hell… but unburned.
Ishni slowly walked forward, her heels echoing in the hollow basement. She looked at each of them. Not a blink. Not a quiver. She let the silence bite before she spoke—
"Remember me?"
Her voice didn’t scream. It didn’t shake. But it hit harder than a bullet.
One of the men trembled. The other looked down. Another tried to act tough—until Rudra’s cold gaze landed on him. He shut his mouth instantly.
Rudra sat silently, arms crossed, watching his queen take charge. There was no need for him to interfere—this was her war now. And she was ruling the battlefield like a storm wrapped in grace.
Ishni’s gaze didn’t falter even for a second. Her eyes scanned the four men. Broken. Bloody. Shaking. And yet she felt… nothing. No fear. No pity. Only the weight of justice she’d waited years to serve.
One of them, lips trembling, slowly crawled forward and fell to his knees. His voice cracked, desperation dripping from every word.
“Please… I’m begging you… look—we’re kneeling. Isn’t that enough?”
Ishni tilted her head slightly. A bitter smile curved on her lips. Then, without breaking eye contact, she slowly bent down.
She kneeled—elegantly, powerfully—mirroring them.
Her voice dropped, calm and sharp like the edge of a blade.
“Well… now I’m kneeling too. Tell me—what’s so great about it?”
The man looked confused, breath hitching.
She leaned in, just inches from his battered face.
“Because I remember… that night I begged too. I cried. I kneeled. And you laughed.”
Her smile faded.
“So don’t show me your knees now. They don’t shake me.”
She stood back up, brushing her knees as if wiping away their touch.
“Your blood will speak louder than your cries. And your silence… will speak of the monster you tried to awaken.”
Rudra’s lips curled into a smirk.
That’s his woman.
Ishni’s heels clicked against the cold cement floor, echoing like a countdown to their doom.
She circled them slowly—graceful, dangerous—like a predator savoring the scent of fear.
Her eyes flicked to Rudra for a brief moment. He was sitting in chair, leg crossed, watching her with that quiet, lethal pride. He didn’t need to step in. This was her stage. Her hunt.
With a flick of her fingers, she signaled her men.
“Hang them.”
The command was ice.
In seconds, the captives were dragged up, ropes pulled tight until they were suspended, toes barely brushing the ground. The sound of strained rope filled the air along with their panicked gasps.
They weren’t just seeing death—they were staring straight into its eyes.
Ishni stepped forward, her gaze locking onto the first man. She grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. His skin was clammy, his breath rapid.
Her voice was soft, almost tender—yet venomous enough to curdle blood.
“Let’s start with you.”
Her thumb brushed his jaw as if she were admiring a piece of art… before destroying it.
“Do you know why you’re first? Because the way you smiled that night… it still echoes in my head. And I want to see if that smile survives when I break you.”
She released his chin with a push, making him sway slightly on the rope.
Rudra’s jaw clenched—not out of anger at her cruelty, but because he’d never seen her look more like the queen she was born to be.
Ishni’s lips curled into something between a smile and a threat as she stood in front of him.
“Rip them,” she ordered without looking away from his terrified eyes.
The men obeyed instantly—grabbing at his shirt, yanking it apart, the sound of tearing fabric echoing in the cold warehouse. Within seconds, the captive was left hanging by the rope in nothing but his underwear, shivering—not from cold, but from the raw fear that was sinking into his bones.
Ishni moved slowly toward the metal bucket that had been sitting over a small portable flame. Steam hissed into the air, curling upward like a warning. She gripped the handle, testing the heat, and then… without hesitation… she hurled the scalding water straight onto his bare skin.
The scream tore out of his throat instantly—high, sharp, and animalistic. His body jerked against the rope, muscles straining in a desperate, useless attempt to escape the burning agony searing through him.
Ishni didn’t flinch. She didn’t blink. She stepped closer, her heels clicking softly, her expression calm and cold.
“Do you know…” she began, tilting her head, voice soft but cutting, “…how it feels when someone peels your skin like an animal?”
She let the question hang in the air, her eyes locked on his twisted, pain-stricken face.
“Well,” she whispered, picking up the small, glinting blade from the table beside her, “…let me show you.”
The men in the room went still. Even the ones who had seen blood before knew this wasn’t just torture—it was personal.
Rudra’s gaze stayed fixed on her, silent approval in his eyes. He didn’t stop her. This was her vengeance, and he knew—once she started—there was no going back.
“Bring him,” Ishni’s voice cut through the basement like a blade.
The men exchanged uneasy glances, unsure if they’d heard her right. But the order wasn’t up for discussion.
Heavy footsteps echoed from the dark end of the hall… followed by a sound no human throat could make. A deep, rumbling growl that crawled under the skin. And then—he emerged.
phoenix.
The ruthless jaguar
This one was bred for war—feathers black as midnight, each one sharp-edged and glinting like metal in the dim light. His eyes burned, not with fire, but with a murderous hunger. Predatory. Calculating. Ancient.
The moment he stepped into the light, he let out a roar—a sound that wasn’t just heard, it was felt, vibrating in the ribs, clawing at the spine.
The four men hanging in chains froze. Even the seasoned killers in Rudra’s crew stiffened, gulps audible in the tense silence. The phoenix’s deadly gaze swept over the room like he was choosing who to tear apart first.
Its talons scraped the concrete, leaving shallow grooves.
Its breath was hot, almost sulphuric.
And when those burning black eyes locked on the man Ishni had been torturing, the prisoner whimpered—a broken, pitiful sound that made Ishni’s smile widen ever so slightly.
“Do you know what he does to people who displease me?” she asked softly, her hand brushing over the phoenix’s razor-edged feathers. The beast leaned into her touch like a loyal executioner awaiting his command.
Even Rudra’s men didn’t dare breathe too loudly.
“Tear him apart, Phoenix!”
The words left Ishni’s mouth like a death sentence.
The creature — all black feathers, razor talons, and eyes like burning coals — let out a roar that shook the walls. Even Rudra’s men flinched. The four captives froze, their breaths hitching as the air thickened with dread.
In the blink of an eye, Phoenix lunged. His claws slashed through the man’s skin as if it were nothing, peeling flesh from bone like fruit skin curling under a blade.
The man’s screams weren’t just sounds — they were the kind that clawed their way into your skull and stayed there. He thrashed, begged, cried, until even the most stone-hearted of Rudra’s men had to look away.
The other three captives stared, wide-eyed, pale as corpses, their fear so sharp it almost smelled in the air.
Ishni didn’t blink...She watched.
The floor was slick with blood, chunks of torn flesh scattered like discarded meat in a butcher’s shop. The man hung limp, barely clinging to life, his body almost completely ripped apart.
“Stop.”
Ishni’s voice sliced through the chaos — calm, cold, unquestionable.
Phoenix obeyed instantly, retreating and perching beside Rudra like a loyal shadow, its black feathers still glistening with drops of crimson.
She stepped forward, her heels clicking against the blood-stained floor, and with a tilt of her head, she gave her next order.
“Pour salt on him.”
The men hesitated — just for a second — but the look in her eyes made them move fast.
The moment the coarse grains hit his raw wounds, the man’s scream tore through the warehouse like an unholy wail. His back arched, muscles convulsing, eyes bulging as the sting of salt dug deep into the exposed flesh.
Ishni smirked,because this was only the beginning.
Slowly… one by one… the men’s resistance crumbled.
His groans turned to whimpers.
His defiance bled out along with their blood.
Ishni’s gaze slid toward the other three, still bound and hanging in the dim light.
They froze under her stare, eyes wide with pure, primal fear.
She took her time walking toward them, heels echoing in the silence, the air thick with the coppery stench of blood.
She stopped just close enough for them to smell the faint trace of her perfume — the only softness in this hellhole.
Her lips curled into a slow, cruel smirk.
“Don’t worry…” her voice was smooth, almost sweet,
“…yours will be more brutal.”
The words were soft.
But in the silence, they felt like a death sentence.
Ishni’s heels clicked slowly against the concrete as she approached the second man. His body trembled, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She tilted her head, smirking, her eyes glinting with venom.
“I have a special treatment for you…” she whispered, the softness of her tone more terrifying than a scream.
She lifted her hand, and with a simple flick of her fingers, Rudra’s men obeyed.
Within moments, they dragged in a massive tub, covered with a thick black cloth. The metallic scrape against the floor echoed through the basement, making the three men flinch.
The tub was placed at the center.
Ishni gave a small nod.
The cloth was pulled away.
Gasps rippled through the air.
Even Rudra’s most hardened men stiffened.
Inside the tub writhed a mass of black, glistening creatures—hundreds of leeches, twisting and churning over one another in a living nightmare.
The second man’s eyes bulged, horror swallowing him whole. He thrashed violently against his restraints.
“N-no… no please! Don’t—don’t do this!”
Ishni crouched slightly so her face aligned with his, her smirk never fading. She reached out and gently trailed a finger down his cheek, mockingly tender.
“Do you know,” she said, her voice calm, conversational, “…leeches don’t just drink blood. They cling. They suck. They make you feel every second of your body being drained alive. And the best part?” She leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear. “They don’t stop… until I tell them to.”
Behind her, Phoenix let out a low, guttural sound, as if enjoying the terror in the room.
The man shook his head frantically, tears spilling, his voice breaking into sobs.
“Please! Please no, I’ll do anything!”
Ishni straightened, her smirk darkening into something feral. She turned to Rudra briefly, who sat silently in his chair, watching his queen with pride burning in his ocean-blue eyes.
“Put him in.”
The order fell from her lips like a decree from hell.
The men grabbed him by his arms and legs as he thrashed violently, screaming, clawing at the air. His nails scraped against the floor, leaving desperate marks before he was hoisted and shoved into the writhing tub.
The moment his body touched the water, chaos erupted.
Hundreds of leeches latched onto his flesh, their slimy bodies wriggling, attaching themselves to his arms, chest, neck—even his face. The sound of their wet suction filled the air.
“AAAAHHHHH!” His scream tore through the basement, bouncing off the concrete walls like the cries of a man already in hell.
The tub churned red within seconds, his blood mixing with the water until it looked like a pool of molten death. He flailed, splashing, his terrified eyes darting to Ishni, as if she might spare him.
She only tilted her head, calm as ever, watching like a queen enjoying a performance.
“See?” Ishni’s voice was soft, almost gentle, yet sharper than any blade. “This is how it feels when something eats you alive—slow, relentless… and you can’t stop it. Just like what you and your filthy friends did to countless women.”
He screamed again, clawing at his own body as if to rip the leeches off, but every movement only made them cling tighter, hungrier.
Blood bubbled to the surface. His cries turned to desperate, choking sobs.
The other two men, still tied and hanging, began to shiver uncontrollably. Their knees buckled, their faces pale as death. One of them vomited on himself, unable to hold the horror inside.
Rudra sat back in his chair like a dark king, his sharp jaw set, his cold eyes never wavering from the scene. Phoenix, curled beside him, growled low, as though savoring the man’s agony.
The stench of iron filled the air. The basement echoed with nothing but the man’s screams, the sound of leeches feeding, and Ishni’s calm breathing.
Finally, she leaned forward slightly, her smirk returning.
“Do you feel that?” she asked, her voice slicing through his agony. “That’s your life… leaving you slowly. And yet, I’m merciful enough to let you keep breathing.”
Her words dripped like venom. She straightened, her eyes shifting to the two men who still awaited their fate.
“Don’t worry,” she said coldly, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “…yours will be even worse.”