CHAPTER 11
A week later, Chaturvedi, the court personnel who had delivered Kashish into the Raheja family’s care as per the court orders, returned to Raheja Mansion. It was part of his monthly routine—checking on Kashish, securing a family member’s signature, and leaving. Eleven years ago, Kashish would pester him endlessly, begging him to request the court to take her away from this house, this family. But over time, she had grown used to the ritual, and Chaturvedi had witnessed her transformation. He had seen this once-broken girl grow into a strong young woman, and he was satisfied with how the Rahejas had cared for her.
Ram Prasad escorted Chaturvedi to the living room before hurrying to call Daadi. As fate would have it, Rudra had just returned from the office. When their eyes met, Chaturvedi was visibly taken aback, immediately recognizing the man who was the reason Kashish was tied to this family.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Rudra said.
Chaturvedi’s face hardened. It was clear that seeing Rudra stirred unwelcome memories.
“I’m from the court,” Chaturvedi said coldly. “Here to check on Kashish and get Savitriji’s signature—just the usual procedure.”
Rudra’s stomach twisted, understanding the man’s frosty demeanor. The past had come rushing back, slamming into him like a tidal wave. He could see the judgment in Chaturvedi’s eyes—the unspoken disdain.
Just then, Ram Prasad returned.
“Daadiji is not at home. She’s at the temple,” he informed.
“And Shekhar or Anjali?” Chaturvedi asked.
“They’ve gone with Daadi. There’s no one else home right now.”
“I didn’t realize,” Chaturvedi said, rubbing his temples in thought. “I usually come on the last day of the month, but I’m heading to my village tomorrow, so I came today. No matter, I’ll have someone else handle it tomorrow.”
“I can sign,” Rudra offered abruptly.
Chaturvedi’s expression shifted—uncertain, skeptical.
“You?” His hesitation was palpable.
Rudra felt the weight of the unspoken words: You’re the reason she’s here in the first place. You, the culprit. He clenched his jaw, swallowing the bitterness rising in his throat. It was a stark reminder that no matter how much time passed, the world would always see him as guilty.
After a moment of indecision, Chaturvedi reluctantly handed over the papers. But just as Rudra was about to sign, the documents were yanked from his grip.
Kashish stood there, eyes burning with fury.
“How can you let him sign these papers?” she demanded.
Chaturvedi looked taken aback. “Beta, he is a part of this family—there’s no one else.”
“So what?” Kashish shot back, her gaze never wavering from Rudra’s. “I don’t give him the right to sign anything related to me.”
She shoved the papers into Ram Prasad’s hands. “Let him sign,” she said, her voice cold. “He’s been in this house as long as I have. He’s more family than this man ever will be.”
Ram Prasad hesitated, his eyes darting to Rudra for approval. Rudra gave a subtle nod, signaling for him to go ahead. Chaturvedi handed the pen to the trembling Ram Prasad, who hurriedly signed the documents before retreating to the kitchen.
Kashish felt a sense of relief as she watched Ram Prasad sign the papers for her. He and Chanda Mausi were far closer to her than the one person she couldn’t stand—Rudra Raheja. With Chanda Mausi away on an extended leave due to a family emergency, all the household responsibilities had now fallen on Ram Prasad’s shoulders, and he was more than willing to help.
Chaturvedi continued his formalities, asking Kashish if she had any concerns about the family.
Watching from a distance, Rudra turned to leave, not wanting to intrude. But just as he reached the stairs, he heard her voice, filled with venom.
“Oh, I do have some concerns,” Kashish said, loud enough for Rudra to hear. “There’s a bug here that keeps sucking the life out of me.”
Rudra froze mid-step. A Bug? Did she just call him that?
He forced himself to stay composed, but inside, her words stabbed deep. She wasn’t pretending—her hatred was real, visceral. Chaturvedi understood the underlying message but chose not to dig deeper.
“But do not worry. Irritating that bug has become my full-time hobby,” Kashish added smugly.
Chaturvedi adjusted his glasses and sighed. “If that’s all, then I’ll take my leave.” He offered her a kind smile, and Kashish touched his feet out of respect—he was, after all, the only elder she ever honored.
With a lingering look at Rudra, Chaturvedi left.
Kashish turned to walk away, but Rudra was suddenly in her path, blocking her. She tried to move around him, but he stepped in her way again.
Her patience snapped. She raised her hands, ready to shove him out of the way, but Rudra caught her wrists, pulling her close. Their faces were inches apart now, her fiery eyes locked onto his.
How dare he touch her?
She opened her mouth to curse him, but before she could utter a word, Rudra’s hand clamped over her mouth, his other arm sliding around her waist to hold her to him. His grip was firm, yet there was something else in his eyes—something deeper than anger.
Her struggles only made him tighten his hold. Rudra wanted to warn her, to stop bad mouthing him at every occasion, but the way she looked in his eyes, somehow mellowed down all his anger. Those eyes had haunted him for years—filled with rage, but also an emptiness that mirrored his own.
For a moment, the storm between them stilled.
Kashish, realizing her struggles were futile, bit down hard on his palm. He winced in pain, but before he could react, she tore free from his grasp and bolted up the stairs.
Rudra watched her retreating form, the pain of her bite lingering on the edge of his palm. Her teeth marks were still visible, an imprint of her defiance. Strangely, the raw sting of that bite only fueled his desire. He raised his hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against the mark she had left, his eyes closing as if savoring the pain. His body never felt that ache before... the ache of wanting this woman in his arms, forever .
Shekhar and Anjali, who had just returned from the temple with Daadi, had witnessed everything. Shocked, they exchanged a worried glance, unsure of what to make of the scene they had just witnessed.
“What was that?” Shekhar muttered under his breath. “Is Rudra... falling for Kashish?”
Anjali’s eyes widened. “God... If she finds out, she’ll kill him.”
“She already sees him as a murderer,” Shekhar said, pressing his fingers to his temples. “How can he... How can he even think of her like that?”
They stood there, paralyzed by the unfolding situation. Rudra, oblivious to the fact that they had seen everything, calmly made his way back to his room. Thankfully, Daadi was outside, distracted with the gardener, or things would have escalated.
Once inside their room, Shekhar collapsed onto the bed, his head in his hands.
“This... this can’t happen,” he muttered. “Rudra cannot be thinking of her like that.”
Anjali sat beside him. “I noticed how he’s been looking at her, but I thought I was imagining things. After today, though...”
“If Kashish finds out... she’ll destroy him. She’ll never forgive him—never.” Shekhar’s voice cracked with worry. “It was an accident, but she’ll never see it that way. He’s the man who took her father’s life, and no woman can ever fall in love with a man who’s caused her so much pain.”
Anjali sighed; her heart heavy. “What are we going to do?”
Shekhar shook his head, lost in thought. “We have to stop this... before it’s too late.”
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Even after retreating to his bedroom, Rudra couldn’t shake the memory of her bite. The imprint of her teeth, small, but sharp and perfectly shaped, her bite had left more than just a physical mark. Their clash had shifted into something far more charged. He hadn’t just met her eyes today; he had held her close, felt her heat, and something within him was stirring, something dangerous.
What was happening to him? How had this woman, filled with nothing but hatred for him, gotten under his skin so deeply? He knew she would never offer him anything but disdain, but somehow, that only fueled the fire burning inside him. Yet, the more he desired her, the more he realized just how wrong it was. Giving in to these feelings would only lead to more suffering, and it would be his suffering in the end. He couldn’t allow it. He needed to leave—return to Paris, far away from her and the inevitable pain that would come from being around her.
*****************
Kashish could still feel his hands on her skin, his breath warming her face. She punched the heavy bag harder, rage coursing through her veins. How dare he touch her like that? How could he even think of holding her that close? Did he not see the fury burning in her eyes? She struck the bag again, each punch a reflection of the war raging inside her.
Boxing had become her outlet, a form of self-defense she had adopted years ago after being ragged by her seniors in school. She was only fourteen then, and the incident left her shaken. Shekhar had filed a complaint, and even Daadi had stood up for her, ensuring the school took action against those responsible. But no amount of protection from the Raheja family could erase the fear she had felt, and from that day on, she vowed to never rely on anyone else for her safety again. She learned boxing and self-defense to protect herself, but today, when he touched her, she had felt powerless. Why hadn’t she used the skills she had honed for years?
Frustration boiled over, and she hit the bag again, harder this time, her fists throbbing with pain. Her knuckles were raw, bleeding, but she didn’t care. All she could picture was Rudra, and hurting him was the only thing that brought her relief. The thought of making him bleed was the only thing that would erase his touch from her skin.
What she didn’t know was that the very man she wanted to destroy had been silently watching her from the shadows. The gym, with its glass walls, gave him a perfect view of her battle. Leaning against a pillar, arms crossed over his chest, Rudra watched her with a mix of admiration and pride. Every punch she threw at the bag was a reflection of the internal war she was waging against him. How he wished they weren’t enemies—how he wished they were fighting on the same side.
He stayed hidden until she finally gave up, her fists bloodied and bruised. When she stepped out of the gym, Rudra ducked behind the pillar, not wanting her to see him. As she disappeared toward her room, he lingered for a moment longer, wishing he could change the course they were on.
Later that night, Kashish sat in her room, sketching, when Ram Prasad knocked on the door.
“Kashish Didi, please use this paste on your hands. It’ll help heal your bruises,” he said, holding out a small bowl.
Surprised, Kashish looked at the paste and then at him. “How did you know I was hurt?”
Ram Prasad shifted nervously, avoiding her gaze. “I... I saw you in the gym,” he lied, handing her the bowl.
She smiled faintly, touched by his concern. “Thank you, Ram Prasad,” she said, taking the paste from him.
He nodded quickly and rushed out of the room before she could realize the truth—that it wasn’t him who had prepared the paste for her. It was Rudra—the man she hated with every fiber of her being. The man who, despite everything, couldn’t help but try to soothe her pain, even from the shadows.