CHAPTER 9
That night, Rudra couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to shake Kashish from his mind. Her presence clung to him, and the words he had said earlier echoed relentlessly. Had he hurt her with those remarks? All she wanted was a piece of jewellery—a simple anklet. Yet, it had spiralled into an intense confrontation. Did he just reignite the fire of vengeance burning inside her? But it had been necessary. Kashish needed to understand that she couldn’t insult him whenever and however she pleased. There were boundaries, even at work. Still, he knew how dangerous she could be when it came to revenge. He had to stay cautious—she could pull this kind of stunt again, and next time, it might be worse.
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The next morning, Rudra noticed the chaos as party organizers hurried around the mansion, preparing for the evening’s event. It seemed Daadi was serious about the welcome party, despite his clear disinterest.
“Rudra, look at this suit. I want you to wear it tonight,” Daadi said, holding up a dark black suit—perfectly matching his taste.
“You didn’t need to go through the trouble, Daadi,” Rudra replied, though he was far from excited.
“Of course I did! You’re my grandson. I missed doing these things for you all these years,” Daadi said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
There it was again—those years of distance, of separation, where Rudra had cut himself off from everyone. Those years when he hid from his family, his pain, and himself. Daadi sensed his unspoken tension and quickly shifted the conversation.
“Shekhar ordered your favorite vanilla fruit cake for tonight,” she added, trying to lift his spirits.
Rudra kept walking, the whole idea of the party sounding like a childish attempt to celebrate what was no longer worth celebrating. But Daadi followed closely, refusing to let him escape her enthusiasm.
“Will you be on time? Or should I send someone to drag you here?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
As they walked past the dining room, Rudra caught sight of Kashish. She was laughing with Shekhar and Anjali, her smile lighting up the room. The sight made his chest tighten. He could never make her laugh like that—not around him.
“Do you have any special guests you want to invite to the party?” Daadi asked innocently.
Yes. Her . Rudra nearly spoke the thought aloud, wanting Kashish to hear it too. But he swallowed the dangerous words. Inviting her would be asking for trouble—Kashish Bedi was capable of turning the night into chaos. Thankfully, his phone rang, saving him from answering Daadi’s probing questions. As he walked away, Daadi muttered something under her breath, clearly worried.
Anjali noticed Daadi’s concern. “What’s wrong, Daadi?” she asked.
“I just hope he makes it to the party tonight. He doesn’t seem interested,” Daadi admitted, her voice heavy with disappointment.
“He’ll come,” Shekhar reassured her. “There’s no reason for him to back out now.”
But Daadi’s gaze flickered toward Kashish. If Rudra chose not to attend, it would be to avoid her.
Kashish, clearly overhearing, set her cup down. “I’ll be out of the house the entire evening, Daadi. You have nothing to worry about.” Her voice was firm, her message clear. She wasn’t going to welcome Rudra. She stood up, meeting Daadi’s gaze, then turned to leave. “I’m getting late.”
Shekhar got up too, following her. “Wait, we’ll go together.”
Kashish hoped he meant just the two of them. After all, why would Shekhar ever invite Rudra along to ruin their morning? But as they reached the car, they discovered both tires were flat.
“This is impossible. One flat tire I can understand, but two?” Kashish’s voice was filled with suspicion.
Shekhar frowned. “Yeah, I just had the car serviced. Anyway, we’ll take the other one.”
He was about to call Mohan, their driver, when the screeching of an SUV echoed through the driveway. Rudra’s SUV. No way. Kashish couldn’t believe her rotten luck. Though Rudra sat in the backseat, it still meant being in the same car as him. The thought alone suffocated her.
“Rudra, heading to the office?” Shekhar asked.
“Yeah,” Rudra replied, glancing briefly at Kashish. “Get in, both of you.”
His tone left no room for argument—it was a command, not a suggestion. Rudra rolled up his window but not before catching Kashish’s uncomfortable expression. She reached for Shekhar’s hand, desperate for an escape.
“I’ll call a cab. You go ahead without me,” she whispered, refusing to give in to this situation.
Shekhar shook his head. “No, you’ll be late. It’s your second day at work. It won’t look good.”
“I can’t... I can’t travel with him,” Kashish insisted.
“It’s just 30 minutes,” Shekhar reasoned, but she shook her head again, about to protest further.
Suddenly, Rudra ordered the driver to honk the horn—a signal for them to hurry up. Kashish tensed. She couldn’t bring herself to sit next to him. But Rudra, sensing her hesitation, made the decision for her. He opened the front passenger door and slid in beside the driver, leaving the entire backseat empty.
Shekhar smiled, appreciating the gesture. “Still have a problem?” he asked Kashish, his eyes pleading for her to agree.
Kashish swallowed her frustration. She couldn’t delay their departure any longer. Without a word, she climbed into the backseat, and Shekhar followed. The car pulled away from Raheja Mansion, Rudra quietly taking calls from the front, but Kashish could feel his gaze on her through the rearview mirror.
She kept her focus on Shekhar although who talked about their upcoming meeting.
“Tanuja wants to see you today. We’ve got an hour after training for you to meet with her and discuss the designs. Is that manageable?”
Kashish nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m excited to meet her.”
But even as she spoke, she felt a burning awareness of Rudra’s eyes on her. Could he really be watching her? She shook off the feeling, convincing herself it was just her imagination. Why would he even care to look?
***************
The evening had finally arrived, and Rudra was reluctantly attending the welcome party. His Daadi had gone all out—lavish decorations, gourmet catering, fine costumes, and top-tier drinks. Everything was perfect, except for the fact that Rudra didn’t want to be there. As Daadi introduced him to relatives one by one, he could feel their eyes on him, their silent questions lingering in the air like ghosts. Each glance seemed to ask the same unspoken questions: What really happened that night? Why were you driving alone? How did it feel to hit a man with your car? Were you drunk? Was it truly an accident, or something more?
Their curiosity bore down on him. His mind spun, struggling to silence the flood of memories. He quickly excused himself, distancing himself from the crowd, trying to regain control. Shutting his eyes, he whispered to himself, “ No one cares about your past anymore, Rudra. Calm down. ” But it was easier said than done. He had never been good at showing people what was going on inside him. No one knew the turmoil he was fighting, not even his family.
When he opened his eyes, he saw her. Kashish. Standing in the lobby of her room, speaking on the phone, her gaze flickering restlessly down toward the party, as if searching for someone. His heart clenched. Was it him she was looking for? But before he could draw any conclusions, a hand rested on his shoulder.
It was Shekhar.
“Rudra, what are you doing here? Come on, you need to pop the champagne.”
Reluctantly, Rudra followed Shekhar back into the throng of guests. Lavina handed him the bottle. He popped the cork with a loud cheer from the crowd, the sound echoing through the room. For a brief moment, it felt real—like no one cared about the past anymore. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to run from these people. Taking a deep breath, he downed the champagne and began mingling with the guests, trying to lose himself in the shallow conversations.
The dance floor was filled with couples, and before long, Lavina pulled him into a dance. He couldn’t refuse her. The partners began to rotate, and soon Rudra found himself holding a stranger in his arms. She was clearly drunk, a sheepish smile plastered on her face as she leaned in too close.
“Hi, handsome,” the woman slurred.
Rudra remained composed, though he could feel the irritation building inside him. He had encountered women like this before—ones who threw themselves at him because of his status. This one was no different.
“Hi,” he replied coldly.
“I can’t believe it,” she giggled, her hands roaming over his arms. “I’m in the Rudra Raheja’s arms. Wow. How cool.”
He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to shove her away. She leaned even closer, her fingers tracing his lips lazily.
“You haunt my nights, sexy,” she whispered.
That was enough. Rudra pushed her away, his disgust clear. He loathed women who touched him so freely, without permission. Not even Lavina, his closest friend, ever dared to do that.
“Stay away,” he growled.
She only chuckled, taking it as a challenge, and moved forward again, her hands about to press over his chest. “I can’t,” she whispered, a wicked grin on her face.
Rage ignited in Rudra. He shoved her harder this time, and she stumbled to the ground, drawing the attention of the entire party. The music stopped, all eyes on them. Rudra stood there, glaring at her, his body radiating fury.
The woman picked herself up, humiliated but defiant.
“Chill man,” she spat loud enough for everyone to hear. “I thought after that accident, you’d become tougher. But you’re just a coward, Rudra Raheja. You’re not worth any woman’s time. You’re the most insensitive man I’ve ever met. Or maybe... maybe you were always this heartless. Isn’t that why you crashed your car into that innocent man? Poor you.”
The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Savitri’s face went pale, unable to believe someone had insulted her grandson so publicly. Rudra remained motionless, as if carved from stone. How had it come to this? How could a woman humiliate him so deeply, all because he didn’t let her touch him?
The woman stormed out of the party, leaving the guests in stunned silence. Savitri was too shocked to speak, but she knew she had to console Rudra. Still, one glance told her he wasn’t looking for comfort. He left the party without a word, brushing off everyone’s attempts to stop him. Shekhar and Anjali quickly apologized to the guests, but the damage was done. The party ended abruptly, and the only thing on everyone’s mind was whether Rudra would retreat back into the emotional isolation he had lived in for so long.
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The next morning, Rudra left for work early. Shekhar noticed that Kashish was gone as well, having sent a message that she had errands to run before heading to the office. As Rudra’s car pulled up at the entrance of the building, he noticed a familiar face getting out of another vehicle— her. The woman who had humiliated him last night. What was she doing here?
He followed her discreetly, keeping his distance, and soon discovered his answer. She embraced another woman dressed in a pink and white Anarkali—Kashish.
His blood ran cold. They knew each other?
Rudra edged closer, straining to hear their conversation.
“Thanks, Sheetal. The drama you pulled last night was incredible,” Kashish said, her voice filled with satisfaction.
Sheetal waved her off. “Come on, don’t thank me. You know I’m always with you. That’s what friends are for. You should’ve seen his face when I reminded him of his past.”
Kashish smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I was there. When I called you and saw you entering the house, I came down. I watched everything. You don’t know how deeply satisfying it was to see him humiliated like that, in front of everyone.”
Rudra’s fists clenched as he heard every word, his heart hardening with every syllable.
“But are you sure this won’t cause problems for you or your father?” Kashish asked in concern.
Sheetal laughed. “Never. That’s the privilege of being rich. We might not be as wealthy as the Rahejas, but we have enough power and influence. They can’t touch us.”
Kashish’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and she hugged Sheetal again. But when they pulled apart, they both saw Rudra standing there, his tall shadow casting over them.
Sheetal froze, terror flashing in her eyes, but Kashish remained unfazed. She had achieved her goal. If Rudra knew she was behind it all, so be it.
“Rudra... I...” Sheetal began, her voice trembling.
Kashish cut her off.
“Sheetal, you don’t owe him any explanation. You can leave.”
“But—”
“Leave,” Kashish repeated firmly, her gaze never leaving Rudra’s.
Reluctantly, Sheetal scurried off, leaving Kashish to face Rudra alone. She met his gaze with pride, stepping forward, unfazed by the storm brewing in his eyes.
“You said if I wanted to hurt you, I should strike here,” she pointed to her heart, “not here.” She pointed to her head. “Well, I did.”
Rudra’s fists tightened, fury coursing through his veins. He had always known Kashish was vengeful, but this... this went beyond anything he had expected.