chapter 33
Ishni stood in a flash, her chair scraping against the floor, her voice slicing through the stillness like lightning.
“Objection, Your Honour!”
Her eyes burned as she glared at the defense, her words rising, sharp, unrelenting.
“This… this right here is the disease in our society! A short dress? That’s your argument?
That’s your excuse for a crime so vile it destroys a girl’s life?
A short skirt is not an invitation! A woman’s clothes are not a license for a man’s crime!
”
She slammed her hand on the desk, her voice now shaking the walls of the courtroom.
“And you dare talk about rights? What do you know about rights?”
Her tone grew fiercer, each word like a whip.
“You say women should know their limits? That we can’t step out at night because monsters like you roam freely?
That our freedom—our birthright—must always be locked away while men enjoy theirs without restriction?
Tell me, where is the discipline for men?
Where are their limits? Why is it always the woman who must carry the burden? ”
Her voice broke, but only for a second—then rose higher, roaring like a lioness.
“Do you know what’s funny, Your Honour?
Freedom belongs to us as much as anyone else—but we still have to fight for it.
Fight to wear what we want, fight to speak our truth, fight to simply live without fear!
And here this man dares to stand in this court and lecture me about rights? ”
Gasps spread across the courtroom, women’s eyes welled with tears, even a few men lowered their heads in shame. The defense lawyer sank in his chair, speechless.
Ishni’s voice softened, but it cut even deeper:
“Justice isn’t a favour given to us. It is our right. And today, I swear, Naina will get hers.”
The entire court erupted in murmurs—many clapped despite the judge’s gavel striking furiously to call for order.
Ishni’s voice didn’t waver as she turned, pointing toward the statue standing tall in the courtroom.
“And Your Honour…” she said, her tone steady but sharp enough to slice through every whisper, “…how can we even hope for justice here, when Lady Justice herself stands blindfolded? Look at her—eyes covered with black cloth. Isn’t that what this system has become? Blind.”
She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room, piercing through Aman and his father.
“Blind to the truth. Blind to a girl’s tears. Blind to the screams of mothers who lose their daughters. We come here with hope, and what do we see? A Lady of Justice who cannot open her eyes… a system that chooses not to see!”
Her words hit like thunder, echoing in the silence.
“So tell me, Your Honour—how do we accept justice from a place where even its goddess has been forced into darkness? Where truth is begging to be seen, but eyes remain closed?”
A heavy hush fell. Some people in the gallery shifted uncomfortably, others nodded with teary eyes. Even the judge’s expression tightened—like Ishni’s words had pierced through his robe into his heart.
The judge’s gavel struck once, steadying the restless courtroom.
“Miss Rajput… if you have any concrete evidence, present it now.”
Ishni straightened, her eyes burning with fire as she held up a sealed file. “Your Honour… this is the last thread of hope for Naina.”
She handed it to the court clerk, who rushed it to the judge. Gasps filled the room as the projector lit up, screen flickering to life.
First—CCTV Footage.
The video showed Aman dragging Naina into a deserted classroom. Her trembling voice could be heard resisting— “Leave me! Please!” —before the audio cut, but the image was damning. Aman’s smug face was frozen on screen.
Second—Medical Report.
“I submit Naina’s medical examination,” Ishni declared, “which proves physical assault consistent with her statement. Science does not lie, Your Honour.”
Third—Witness Testimony.
The doors of the courtroom creaked open.
Two students stepped inside—Naina’s classmates, who had been silent out of fear before.
Today, they stood tall.
“We saw Aman force her inside, Your Honour,” one said, voice shaking but firm.
“We were scared of his father… but not anymore.”
The gallery erupted. The Verma father-son duo turned pale. Aman’s father shot up—
“This is a setup! All fabricated!”
But Ishni’s voice cut him down like a blade.
“Fabricated? Then explain why the footage is from your own school cameras! Why your son’s fingerprints are on Naina’s torn uniform?!”
The judge slammed his gavel.
“ORDER! ORDER!”
Silence fell again.
Ishni looked directly at the judge, her voice low but echoing with the strength of every broken girl who never got justice.
“Your Honour, the defense can twist words, but they cannot twist truth. Naina is not just fighting for herself today—she is fighting for every girl silenced by power and fear. And I will not allow this courtroom to betray her again.”
The judge studied the evidence, his face grave. Slowly, he set the papers down.
“This court will announce its judgment…”
The courtroom was silent—so silent that even the ticking of the clock on the far wall felt deafening. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the judge as he adjusted his glasses, flipping through the evidence one last time.
Aman sat trembling, his once-arrogant smirk completely gone. His father’s fists clenched on the table, sweat dripping from his forehead. Naina clutched her mother’s hand, her small body shaking. Ishni stood tall, her gaze unwavering—like a warrior who already knew the battle was won.
The judge cleared his throat.
“After examining the evidence presented before this court… including CCTV footage, medical reports, and live testimonies… this court finds the accused, Aman Verma—”
The entire courtroom held its breath.
“—Guilty of sexual assault, harassment, and misuse of power.”
Gasps, then murmurs, then loud cheers erupted. Naina burst into tears, her mother embracing her tightly, whispering “You’re free, beta… you’re free.” Aman’s father shot up from his seat—
“This is injustice! You can’t—”
“ORDER!” the judge thundered. “This court sentences Aman Verma to 15 years of rigorous imprisonment, and further directs inquiry into the role of his father, Principal Verma, for obstruction of justice and threatening the victim’s family.”
The gavel struck three times.
“Justice has been served.”
The courtroom exploded in applause. Tears rolled down Ishni’s cheeks as she turned to Naina. The little girl ran into her arms, sobbing.
“Didi… you saved me.”
Ishni bent down, cupping her face, her voice trembling yet proud.
“No, bacha… you saved yourself by standing strong. Today the world will know—no one is too powerful to escape justice.”
From the corner, Rudra watched silently, his eyes locked on his wife—his lioness. The entire courtroom might have seen a lawyer. But he saw something far greater.
When she stood, the world bent. When she spoke, monsters fell.
And in that moment, every mafia man sitting in the gallery, every criminal who had once mocked the idea of justice, felt it in their bones—
Why the underworld whispered her name with fear.
Because when she rises—
“God is Woman.”
The gavel’s echo was still vibrating in the air when Ishni turned her head and her eyes found him.
Rudra.
He hadn’t moved from the corner of the courtroom, his tall figure leaning against the bench, arms crossed, his storm-dark eyes fixed only on her. For a second, her breath hitched. She didn’t care about the claps, the cheers, or the reporters already rushing outside.
Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she all but ran—her robe flying behind her like wings. And then, before anyone could process, she crashed into him.
Her arms circled his torso, clutching him like he was the only reality left in a world that had just shifted. Her face buried into his chest, the tears she had held back finally breaking free.
“Rudra…” she whispered, voice trembling. “I did it. I kept my promise. Naina got justice.”
For a moment, the ruthless mafia lord—the man the city feared—did nothing. His jaw tightened, his eyes closed. And then, his arms wrapped around her, iron-strong, protective, pulling her in so close that it felt like the world ceased to exist.
“You didn’t just win a case, Ishni…” his deep voice rumbled against her ear, “…you tore the whole system apart today. You… you’re fire.”
She pulled back slightly, her teary eyes locking with his, lips quivering into a small smile.
“But you’re the reason I could do it… because you’re with me.”
Rudra tilted her chin up, his thumb brushing away the wetness from her cheek. His voice dropped, dark and possessive.
“I was always with you. I’ll always be with you. Even if the world turns against you—I’ll burn it down before I let anyone touch you.”
Her heart hammered as she leaned into him again. Around them, the courtroom had fallen silent, people staring in awe at the deadly mafia don holding the fiercest lawyer like she was his world.
And for Ishni—this victory wasn’t just for Naina. It was for every girl who had been silenced. For every woman who had been told to hide.
And for Rudra—this wasn’t just pride. It was reverence. Because in his arms, he wasn’t just holding a woman.
He was holding his goddess.
Ishni’s POV
It had been a few days since the case. Life had slowly settled back into something resembling normal. No flashing cameras, no courtroom tension—just silence, peace, and him.
I woke up with strong arms wrapped firmly around my waist, pulling me into a cage of warmth. A smile tugged at my lips even before I opened my eyes.
Turning my head slightly, I found my dramatic husband still asleep—if you could call it that.
His face was completely buried in my neck, his breath tickling my skin.
He looked nothing like the ruthless man the world feared.
Right now, he looked like a stubborn oversized child refusing to let go of his favorite toy.
I shifted a little, trying to sit up, but the grip around my waist tightened instantly.
I couldn’t help the smile that curved on my lips.
Damn… he was really so good-looking. It honestly felt like God had taken His sweet time to carve him only for me.
Every sharp line of his jaw, every messy strand of hair falling across his forehead, every little scar that made him more human than a king—he was mine.
My fingers tangled gently into his dark hair, the silkiness slipping between them. I bent down and pressed a soft kiss on his nose.
His lips curved lazily, eyes still closed, voice rough from sleep.
“My lips are waiting too…” he murmured.
Heat rushed to my cheeks instantly. “Shut uppp…” I whispered, rolling my eyes, “…and let me admire my husband.”
Instead of listening, he pulled me closer until I was half sprawled on top of him, his arms locked firmly around me.
His chest rose and fell under my palm, warmth seeping into me like home.
“Admire me from here,” he mumbled, his breath brushing against my lips now, teasing me with every word.
“Because I’m not letting you go anywhere, jaan. Ever.”
I buried my face against his chest to hide my blush, my lips curving into a smile I couldn’t stop. This man—the world’s most dangerous, ruthless mafia don—was acting like a needy child who wanted nothing more than to be loved.
And truth be told… I loved every second of it.
“Kafi romantic mood mai hai aap subah-subah, Rudra jii…” I whispered in a teasing tone, my fingers slowly tracing the sharp line of his jaw.
His lips curved into that half-smirk that always made my heart skip. Without even opening his eyes, he caught my hand mid-air and pressed a kiss to my fingertips.
“Subah ho ya raat, mood toh aapki wajah se banta hai, jaan,” he drawled, voice still thick with sleep but dripping with heat. “Aur waise bhi… agar meri biwi itni khoobsurat lag rahi ho, toh romance karna mera farz hai.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Drama king.”
He finally opened his eyes, that dangerous depth softening only for me. In the next second, he flipped me under him with one swift move, pinning me against the bed. His messy hair fell against my forehead as he whispered, “Drama king nahi, aapka king. Aur aap… sirf meri queen.”
My cheeks burned crimson as his lips hovered dangerously close to mine.
“Rudra…” I tried to push him lightly, but my voice betrayed me—it came out shaky, nervous.
He smirked, lowering his lips until they brushed mine ever so slightly.
“Say my name again… phir chahe din ho ya subah, main aapko dikhata hoon asli romance kaisa hota hai.”
I pressed my fingers gently against his lips before he could steal the moment further.
“Rudra… chalo ab, breakfast karna hai. Subah ho gayi… yeh sab nahi,” I said, trying to sound firm but my voice came out soft.
He raised a brow, eyes glinting with that familiar mischief, and kissed the tips of my fingers instead of moving away.
“Breakfast? Mera breakfast toh aap ho, jaan,” he murmured against my hand, his tone so teasingly dramatic that my cheeks instantly heated.
“Rudraaa…” I groaned, glaring at him, but his smirk only widened as he leaned closer, brushing his nose against mine like an overgrown child demanding attention.
“Fine,” he sighed, dramatically collapsing beside me, throwing one arm over his forehead like a hero in a tragic play.
“Subah-subah meri biwi mere romance ko ignore karke… poore dil pe chhuri ghopa diya hai.”
I burst out laughing, shaking my head at his antics.
“aap na… bilkul impossible ho.”
He peeked at me from under his arm, lips twitching.
“Aur aap meri ho. Bas wahi kaafi hai.”
But just as I tried to push the blanket off and get up, his strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me right back on top of him.
“Not before a kiss…” he whispered in that husky, half-sleepy voice of his, eyes finally opening and locking with mine. His lips curved into that boyish smirk that always made my heart skip. “Because if you don’t kiss me in the morning, jaan… everything feels bitter.”
Before I could protest, he tilted his head up and pressed his lips to mine—slow, warm, and possessive. My breath hitched, my fingers automatically curling into his shirt as if my body already belonged to him without question.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, he murmured with a teasing smile, “See? Now the world feels sweet again.”
My cheeks were burning, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Tum na… pagal ho, Rudra.”
He grinned, brushing his thumb along my jaw.
“Pagal toh sirf aapki mohabbat mai.”
Suddenly, a loud roar echoed through the mansion. I blinked, startled, and looked at Rudra who was still holding me hostage on top of him.
“I think… Phoenix also woke up,” I whispered, trying to hide my laugh.
Rudra groaned, shutting his eyes dramatically. “Of course. The third wheel of our marriage.”
I chuckled and pressed my palm against his chest. “Rudra…”
He opened one eye, glaring in the direction of the roar. “That oversized spotted brat knows the exact timing to ruin my moments.”
Another, louder roar came from downstairs—this time more demanding.
I burst out laughing. “Seems like he’s calling us for breakfast.”
Rudra sighed heavily, rolling me back onto the bed and getting up slowly. “I swear, jaan, one day I’ll lock him back in the damn forest…”
I smirked. “Haan, haan. Bolte rahiye. But we both know you can’t even sleep if he’s not guarding our door.”
Rudra paused, then muttered under his breath, “That’s not the point.”
Just then, Phoenix’s heavy footsteps echoed closer—clearly coming upstairs.
I widened my eyes at Rudra. “Uh-oh…”
He facepalmed. “Don’t tell me he’s coming to drag us for breakfast.”
Author POV
After freshening up and getting dressed, Rudra and Ishni finally made their way downstairs.
Phoenix was already sprawled near the dining table like a king, his sharp golden eyes following them as if he’d been waiting for hours. The staff placed the dishes carefully, clearly cautious of the big jaguar’s intimidating presence.
Ishni chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Dekha? He really was calling us for breakfast.”
Rudra muttered under his breath, glaring at Phoenix, “Or maybe he was calling you. I’m just the unwanted guest here.”
Phoenix let out a low growl, almost like a smug laugh, and rested his massive head on Ishni’s lap the moment she sat down.
“See?” Rudra said dramatically, pointing at the jaguar. “Absolute betrayal. My wife is officially stolen by a spotted beast.”
Ishni rolled her eyes, feeding Rudra a bite of paratha to shut him up. “Bas drama mat karo. Now eat.”
Phoenix blinked at Rudra with a look that screamed, Yes, drama mat karo, husbandji.
Rudra narrowed his eyes at the jaguar. “One day… I’ll kick you out of this house.”
Phoenix lazily licked his paw, giving the perfect expression of try me, human.
Rudra didn’t say anything this time. He just sat there, his elbow propped on the table, chin resting on his palm, his sharp eyes fixed only on her.
Every little thing she did—smiling at Phoenix, tucking that one loose strand behind her ear, scolding the staff gently for spilling chutney, even chewing slowly—felt like poetry to him.
“Why are you staring like that?” Ishni finally asked, glancing at him, cheeks flushing under his intense gaze.
Rudra smiled faintly, that rare, quiet smile which belonged only to her. “Just thinking how unfair life is.”
Her brows furrowed. “Unfair?”
He leaned slightly closer, his voice deep and soft, “Because God gave you to me… and now I can never repay Him.”
Ishni’s heart skipped. She looked down quickly, hiding her blush with a scolding tone, “Bas kijiye… subah subah itna dramatic mat hoiye.”
Phoenix lifted his head, watching Rudra carefully, almost like judging if his words were genuine or just drama.
Rudra smirked at the jaguar, as if challenging him silently: This… she’s mine. Only mine.
Phoenix snorted softly but lowered his head back onto Ishni’s lap, as if saying: Fine. For now.
Time Skip – Ishni POV
I was in my cabin, buried in piles of case papers, the weight of deadlines already sitting heavy on my shoulders. Just as I scribbled my signature on the last page, my phone rang.
I didn’t even need to check the screen. That ringtone had already become a part of me. I smiled knowingly and picked it up.
“Rudra… am I oxygen? That you need me to survive?” I asked, leaning back in my chair, smirk tugging at my lips.
There was a pause, and then his deep, velvet voice came through the line.
“Exactly, jaan. Without you, I can’t even breathe properly.”
My lips parted in surprise at the way he said it—so dramatic, yet so utterly him.
“Rudra… do you even realize how filmy you sound right now?” I teased, trying to mask the way my cheeks were already heating up.
“Filmy?” he chuckled darkly. “Jaan, it’s not a film. It’s my truth. If I don’t hear your voice every few hours, I feel restless. I can burn the whole world but still crave your one ‘hello’ to calm me down.”
I bit my lip, shaking my head. “You’re impossible, Rudra.”
He hummed softly. “No, jaan… I’m just hopelessly addicted to you. Now tell me—are you missing me too, or should I take my car keys and come straight to your office to find out?”
I gasped, sitting up straight. “Rudra! Don’t you dare. My whole staff is outside!”
I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Good. Let them watch. So they’ll finally understand that their boss is mine, and only mine.”
“Rudraaa…” I whined, covering my face in embarrassment even though he couldn’t see me.
“Hmm?” His voice dropped lower, a teasing growl now. “Say it again, jaan. I love when you call my name like that…”
“Rudra… mai aapka kya karu?” I said, smiling helplessly, my voice soft but filled with affection.
On the other end, I heard his low chuckle—the kind that always made my heart skip.
“Bas apna bana kar rakho, jaan,” he replied smoothly. “Aur kuch mat karo. Aap meri ho, aur yeh kaafi hai.”
I bit my lip, my smile growing wider. “Aap na… bilkul pagal ho.”
“Pagal toh hoon,” he admitted, his tone suddenly softer, almost vulnerable. “Par sirf aapke liye.”