CHAPTER 5
Few Minutes Later
Rudra fisted his fingers, his knuckles white as he looked out of the car’s window. The morning’s incident still seared into his mind, a raw wound refusing to heal. He hadn’t been surprised when she’d coldly ignored him during the Prasad offering - her rejection was a bitter pill he’d long expected to swallow.
His phone’s incessant ringing shattered his brooding thoughts. Shekhar’s name flashed on the screen. After what felt like an eternity, Rudra finally answered.
“Rudra?” Shekhar’s voice crackled with barely concealed worry.
“I’m fine, Bhai,” Rudra replied, his tone clipped. “On my way to the office.”
Relief flooded Shekhar’s words, but a new concern quickly surfaced. “Are you driving?”
The question pierced Rudra like a dagger, ripping open old scars he’d fought so hard to forget. It was as if the world still saw him as that reckless 16-year-old, forever tainted by one catastrophic moment. The accident that had shattered lives. The two-year sentence in juvenile detention that had nearly broken his spirit.
Those hellish days in confinement haunted him still. Even after his release, when Daadi had whisked him away to Paris, the mere thought of touching a steering wheel had filled him with paralyzing dread.
It wasn’t until he was 24 that fate forced his hand, thrusting him into a moment that would redefine his relationship with driving forever…
**Flashback**
Rudra was in his car driven by his trusted driver Steve, who suddenly clutched his chest with a strangled gasp. Barely conscious, Steve managed to wrench the vehicle to the roadside before slumping over the wheel. One look at Steve’s ashen face told him everything - this was no minor ailment, but a full-blown heart attack threatening to snuff out a life.
Fingers trembling, Rudra punched in the emergency number, relaying their location with desperate urgency. But as Steve’s laboured breathing grew weaker, a chilling realization struck - help wouldn’t arrive in time. In that moment, Rudra faced a crossroads: cling to his paralyzing fear of driving, or take the wheel and race against death itself.
With a surge of adrenaline, Rudra made his choice. He hauled Steve into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel, hands shaking as they gripped the familiar leather. The engine roared to life, and Rudra peeled away from the curb, every fibre of his being focused on the four-mile sprint to salvation.
As he wove through traffic, he barked orders into his phone, alerting the hospital of their imminent arrival. Screeching into the emergency bay, he was met by a team of medical professionals who whisked Steve away on a waiting gurney.
The next hours passed in a blur of forms and anxious waiting. When Rudra finally received word of Steve’s condition, the doctor’s words hit him like a thunderbolt: “If you’d waited for an ambulance, we’d be having a very different conversation. Your quick thinking saved his life.”
That night Rudra felt immensely proud of himself for taking the right decision on time and saving a life. After that incident, he slowly got used to driving again. But he was always cautious. He didn’t drive in crowded areas. He was strict when it came to follow the driving rules and speed limits. But even after being a professional now in driving, he thought of avoiding it in India, especially in the same city where he once took a life.
“Rudra?” Shekhar’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. “Can you hear me?”
Snapping back to the present, Rudra swallowed hard before answering.
“I’m not driving,” he replied smoothly. “Mohan is.”
Though Shekhar was relieved to know that, he felt a sorrow in Rudra’s voice.
The call ended abruptly, leaving a lingering tension in the air as Rudra’s sleek car glided to a stop outside the imposing Raheja Designs headquarters. Though he’d never set foot in this particular office, the faces that greeted him were eerily familiar, thanks to those countless video conferences. Among them stood Jay Mathur, the Project Delivery Manager whose razor-sharp efficiency had long impressed Rudra from afar.
Jay came forward and greeted him before expertly manoeuvring Rudra through a sea of eager introductions and then whisking him away to his meticulously crafted office cabin meant to be his home for the next four months. The room was classy and very well suited his needs.
“It’s like stepping into my Paris office,” Rudra murmured, taking in the familiar layout.
Jay’s eyes gleamed with barely concealed satisfaction.
“We aimed for an exact replica, sir. Is it to your liking, or shall we make adjustments?”
Rudra’s lips quirked in begrudging admiration.
“This will suffice for my stay. No need to fuss.”
He sank into the chair and soon immersed himself in the details of their latest high-profile client.
******************
Lavina stepped inside the conference room where the client meeting was about to begin shortly. The client hadn’t arrived yet when she saw a few eye-catching fashion designs.
“These are exquisite, Jay,” Lavina breathed, her finger tracing the intricate lines. “Who’s the designer?”
“Kashish Bedi,” Jay replied.
Lavina’s eyes sparkled with possibility.
“I need to meet her. Immediately after this meeting - I want to see what other gems she’s hiding.”
Before Jay could respond, Shekhar’s voice cut through the air like a knife.
“Kashish isn’t a full-time employee.”
Undeterred, Lavina’s smile only grew.
“That can be changed. Talent like this shouldn’t go to waste - we’ll make her an offer she can’t refuse.”
Shekhar’s face darkened.
“It’s not that simple, Lavina. We’ve been down this road before. There’s nothing that will convince Kashish to join us full-time.”
Lavina leaned back, her dimpled smile a challenge.
“Perhaps you just haven’t found the right motivation. Leave it to me - I’ll bring her into the fold.”
“You won’t.” The words, sharp as steel, sliced through the room. Rudra stood in the doorway, his presence filling the space like a gathering storm.
He marched forward and took his place at the centre of the conference table.
“Rudra, please. Just look at these designs! We can’t let a resource like this slip through our fingers. Give me one chance to-”
“She is not a resource, Lavina,” Rudra interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. “This discussion ends now.”
The room fell silent. Lavina’s eyes narrowed. Why was he so determined to keep this woman at bay?
Rudra had always been acutely aware of Kashish’s contributions from afar, her talent undeniable. But bringing her fully into the Raheja fold? The very thought sent a chill down his spine. Better to keep her at arm’s length, like a brilliant star just out of reach.
****************
It had been two agonizing days since Rudra’s return to the house, and after the explosive incident during the morning puja, Kashish had made it a point to avoid him completely. Her demeanour had shifted dramatically from the moment Rudra stepped back into their lives. Once someone who found solace in preparing meals, especially dinner, Kashish now refused to even step into the kitchen. Her breakfasts were confined to her room, as if she was building invisible walls around her. She immersed herself in her designs, constantly sketching, driven by an almost obsessive need to finish each one. Her designs, stored meticulously on her laptop, were her escape, her passion. Despite Shekhar’s repeated pleas for her to join the family business, she steadfastly refused. If it were any other company, she might have reconsidered. But this was his company—the company of the man who had shattered her life. She would never lower herself to be a part of it.
******************
Today, ‘Talaash Boutique,’ Raheja’s prestigious new client, was at their office to finalize their contract. They were in the process of selecting a designer from Raheja Designs to craft their new women’s apparel line. The head of their team, Tanuja Mehra, was scrutinizing the designs Jay had presented. Rudra, Shekhar, and Lavina sat tensely, waiting for her decision.
Tanuja, known for her ruthless standards, seemed unimpressed. Rudra had been warned of her exacting taste— she was a powerhouse in the fashion industry, with boutiques spanning India’s metros and the UAE. Her collections had to be extraordinary, and she never worked with the same designer more than twice.
Tanuja finally spoke, her tone biting.
“I’m not impressed.” She looked directly at Rudra. “Mr. Raheja, I had high expectations when I entered this partnership. These designs aren’t bad, but they lack depth. They’re just fabrics. I want to see the soul behind the work.”
Before Rudra could respond, Lavina nervously handed her another set of sketches. “What about these?”
Tanuja’s eyes scanned them, and a smile broke across her face.
“Yes, this is it. This designer understands the essence of beauty. These sketches are a perfect fusion of ethnic elegance and modern flair. This is the designer I want for my project.”
Lavina let out a sigh of relief, but Shekhar’s heart sank. These designs were Kashish’s. There was no way she would agree to this—no way. Rudra’s face darkened as realization dawned.
“Tanuja, could you excuse us for a moment?” Rudra asked tersely. She nodded, and Jay escorted the team out. Once they were alone, Rudra stormed toward Lavina, gripping her arms in fury.
“I told you,” Rudra seethed, his voice low and dangerous, “Kashish needs to stay out of this. Why did you give her designs to Tanuja?”
Lavina stared at him, shocked by this uncharacteristic outburst. She had never seen him like this—someone unhinged, his raw emotions boiling over.
“Rudra... you’re hurting me,” Lavina gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.
The word “hurt” echoed in Rudra’s mind like a cruel joke. He knew hurt better than anyone. It had been his constant companion for the past eleven years. He released her abruptly, turning to Shekhar.
“Tell Tanuja the designer is unavailable. If she can’t find the soul in the rest of our work, she’s welcome to walk away from the contract.”
Shekhar and Lavina exchanged looks of disbelief.
“Rudra, wait,” Shekhar urged. “Don’t make such rash decisions. Tanuja isn’t just any client—she’s a force in this industry. If we lose her, we could lose much more than just this contract. We need to handle this carefully.”
Lavina chimed in, still shaken.
“Why is this designer so untouchable? She can send us her work, but she can’t be part of the team? It’s absurd.”
Rudra’s eyes flashed dangerously.
“Not another word, Lavina. You’ve already made things worse. Let us handle it now.”
Lavina fell silent, her curiosity piqued. What was Rudra hiding? Was he protecting Kashish, or was he shielding himself from something far darker?
Despite Shekhar’s attempts to smooth things over, Tanuja remained firm. She gave Raheja Designs a week to convince Kashish, or the deal would fall through. The company had already invested heavily in this partnership; they couldn’t afford to lose it.
*******************
Later that evening, Shekhar and Anjali visited Kashish in her room. The floor was scattered with papers, her mind clearly consumed by her latest designs. She moved the mess aside, gesturing for them to sit.
“Sorry about the chaos,” she said with a weak smile. “Just working through something.”
Anjali smiled warmly.
“I have no doubt you’ll get it right. You always do.”
Shekhar, however, was in no mood for pleasantries.
“Kashish, what’s going on? You’ve been locked in here for two days—breakfast, lunch, dinner, everything. Why?”
“I told you, I’m busy with this design. It’s keeping me focused.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Shekhar snapped. “I know you better than that. You’re hiding. You’re hiding from him .”
The mention of Rudra made her tense with anger, though she struggled to contain it.
“If you want to avoid him, fine,” Shekhar continued. “But don’t push the rest of us away. We aren’t the ones who wronged you.”
Kashish remained silent, unable to meet his gaze. Shekhar’s voice softened, but the urgency remained.
“And these designs... they mean nothing if you keep hiding.”
“Let it go, Shekhar,” Anjali interjected gently. But Shekhar wouldn’t.
“I’m not the enemy here, Kashish. I’ve always looked out for you. I just want to see you on the right path, not hiding behind these walls.”
“I get it, Shekhar. But—” Kashish started.
“No, I’m sorry,” Shekhar interrupted. “I pushed too hard.”
Without another word, he left, leaving Kashish stunned. Anjali quickly explained what had happened at the office—how Tanuja wanted her to lead the new project. Kashish was floored. The idea of working for Rudra’s project was unthinkable.
“Shekhar is trying to hold everything together, but he’s tearing himself apart. He can’t make everyone happy without hurting someone.” Anjali added softly.
Kashish nodded. She knew better than anyone the weight Shekhar carried for her. He had always been her protector. And someone like him? You never let them get hurt.
Anjali’s reassuring touch on her cheek brought her back to the present.
“Now, get back to your work. I know you’ll finish what’s on your mind.”
As Anjali left, Kashish moved to close the door, only to hear soft guitar notes drifting from the room down the hall. His room. The sound was hauntingly beautiful, but to her, every note felt like a stab to the heart. No matter how gentle his music, everything he touched turned to poison. She slammed the door shut, desperate to keep his world, his very presence, out of her life. She couldn’t even bear to breathe the same air that kept him alive.