CHAPTER 18
A while Later
Composing himself, Rudra stood outside the post office at Uttam Nagar, as instructed by Uday Khatri’s letter. His nerves were taut, his mind racing. Who was this man? And what connection did he have to Kashish and her father? Suddenly, a firm hand clapped his shoulder. Rudra spun around to find a tall, burly man in a hooded jacket standing before him. His neck was weighed down by a thick gold chain, and nearly every finger was adorned with rings.
“Rudra Raheja, I knew you’d show up.”
“Who are you?” Rudra asked, keeping his tone controlled, though his eyes burned with curiosity.
“Uday Khatri. Let’s not talk here,” Uday’s eyes darted around, scanning for signs of Rudra’s backup.
“I came alone,” Rudra responded coldly. “But I’m not leaving. You want to talk? We do it here.”
Seeing that Rudra wasn’t going to budge, Uday relented.
“Fine, let’s cut to the chase. I want my money.”
“What money?” Rudra asked, his voice steady.
“The money that Keshav Bedi borrowed from my father,” Uday replied.
The revelation hit Rudra like a punch to the gut. Keshav Bedi borrowed money?
“What proof do you have that Keshav Bedi took this loan?” Rudra pressed, his instincts telling him this wasn’t a simple extortion attempt.
“We’ve got a signed agreement from him. He borrowed 60 lakhs for a one-year period. Before he could repay, he died. Now, we want that money back. If you don’t pay, we’ll go straight to Kashish. And in our line of work, we have ways of getting what we want from women,” Uday’s tone turned threatening.
The moment those words left Uday’s mouth, Rudra’s blood boiled. He grabbed Uday by the collar, his eyes flashing with fury.
“Don’t you dare lay a finger on her,” Rudra snarled through gritted teeth. “Forget about your money. If you even try to go near her, I’ll make sure you won’t be standing long enough to threaten anyone again.”
Uday struggled to shrug off Rudra’s grip but failed.
“Save that rage for someone else, Raheja. You think we don’t know what happened that night? You’re the reason Keshav is dead. You killed him. You owe us.”
At those words, Rudra’s hold weakened. That night. The one he spent years trying to forget but could never escape. Uday saw the momentary falter and shoved Rudra’s hands off his collar, straightening his jacket.
“How did you even loan him such a large amount? What security did you have that the Bedis could repay you?” Rudra asked, determined to get more answers.
“Keshav put his house up as collateral. We could sell it to recover the loan, but it’s old, and no buyer’s going to pay enough to cover the full debt. That’s why we haven’t gone down that road yet.”
Shock rippled through Rudra. Why had Kashish’s father borrowed such a hefty sum? What did he use it for? If the money wasn’t spent, then where was it?
Uday’s voice broke Rudra’s thoughts. “Look, Raheja. We don’t care about your family or your problems. Just pay what’s owed, and we’ll disappear. We’ve been trying to settle this for years, but your family keeps brushing us off.”
Rudra stiffened. For years? He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Who in my family have you been in contact with?” Rudra asked, his suspicion growing.
“We’ve been talking to Savitri Raheja. She’s the one who’s been dodging us for years. That’s why we came to you this time,” Uday replied.
Rudra’s world tilted. Daadi knows? She knew about the debt and never mentioned it. Why hadn’t she settled it?
“When will we get our money?” Uday’s voice cut through his thoughts, growing impatient.
“Not so fast, Uday. First, I want to see the papers Keshav Bedi signed. I’ll have them verified. And once they’re clear, you’ll get your money. But you’ll also sign a legal agreement ensuring you and your people would stay away from Kashish Bedi. I won’t tolerate any more threats,” Rudra’s voice was firm, laced with authority.
Uday blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Rudra’s business-like approach. No wonder he wasn’t going to leave any loose ends.
“Fine. Where and when do I bring the agreement?” Uday asked, his tone more respectful now.
Rudra pulled out his sunglasses and slid them over his eyes. “My people will contact you,” he said coolly as he turned to walk away.
“Contact me? But you don’t have my number, or any of my details,” Uday pointed out, a smirk creeping onto his face.
Rudra paused, turning back to face him with a sharp grin. “If people like me can be easily tracked, don’t think we can’t trace people like you just as easily.”
Uday’s smirk faded, and he nodded, impressed. With that, he walked off, leaving Rudra standing in the dusty street of Uttam Nagar, his thoughts now torn between his family’s secret and the woman he was desperate to protect.
******************
An hour later Rudra stormed into Daadi’s room without a word. She had just finished reading a mythological text and was placing the book back in the closet when she noticed his presence.
“Rudra, where did you go so early this morning? Ram Prasad mentioned something about urgent work,” Daadi asked, turning toward him with a hint of curiosity.
Rudra quietly shut the door, ensuring no one—especially Kashish—could overhear this conversation. The look on his face was unmistakable: anger, frustration, and something deeper. Daadi noticed instantly, her eyes narrowing in concern.
“You know Uday Khatri?” Rudra’s voice was sharp, direct, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
Daadi’s heart skipped a beat. The name caught her off guard. How did Rudra know? But she quickly composed herself, masking her shock with denial.
“No, I don’t know anyone by that name,” she lied, attempting to move past him.
But Rudra stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
“You always taught me to tell the truth. Why are you lying to me now, Daadi?” he demanded.
Daadi sighed, realizing there was no escaping this. Somehow, Rudra had uncovered the connection between Kashish, Uday Khatri, and herself.
“I lied because I don’t want you involved in this mess, Rudra,” she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion. “You’ve been through enough. You’ve come back after so long, and I want you to find peace. I want you to be happy.”
Her concern was genuine, but Rudra wasn’t swayed.
“Why didn’t you just pay off the debt and settle it?” he asked, his tone strained.
Daadi looked at him incredulously. “Why should we? It’s their debt, not ours. We have no business getting involved.”
Rudra had expected this answer, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. He needed to make her understand.
“Her house is mortgaged to them, Daadi. That’s all she has left from her family. You can’t expect her to lose it.”
Daadi’s face hardened with fury. “What happens to her house is her problem. You shouldn’t be getting entangled in this, Rudra. She is not your responsibility.”
“She is my responsibility!” Rudra’s voice thundered, filling the room with raw emotion. Daadi flinched, startled by the intensity in his voice. “She lost her father because of me. I won’t let her lose anything else.”
Daadi was shaken. She grasped his arm, trying to pull him back to reason.
“Rudra, why are you doing this for her? Can’t you see how much she hates you? No matter what you do, she’ll never acknowledge your good intentions. She’s filled with bitterness.”
“I’m not doing this for her forgiveness,” he said through gritted teeth. “What I’m doing, you or anyone else will never understand.”
With that, he shrugged off her hand and stormed out of the room.
Savitri stood there, stunned by his words. She realized the depth of Rudra’s resolve—his undying commitment to Kashish, despite her hatred. As his grandmother, she couldn’t bear to see him suffer more because of that woman. She knew she had to act, and fast, to get Kashish out of Rudra’s life forever.
Rudra walked through the hallway. The confrontation with Daadi had only fuelled his frustration. As he approached his room, Kashish appeared, blocking his path. She had been waiting for him, and her sharp gaze told him she had overheard enough to be suspicious.
“What are you hiding from me?” she demanded, trying to keep her anger in check. She wasn’t here for a fight—she wanted answers.
Rudra stood silent, unmoved by her words.
“I know this has something to do with me. That’s why I need to know,” Kashish pressed on, her voice rising. “What were you doing in Uttam Nagar? Why did you drag me out of there so quickly?”
“When the time comes, I’ll tell you everything,” Rudra replied, keeping his voice calm, trying not to provoke her further. He turned to walk to his room, but she wasn’t done.
“So, it is about me. What is it? I have a right to know. I don’t trust you with any of my personal matters,” she shouted after him, her frustration spilling over.
Rudra entered his bedroom, and despite his urge to shut the door in her face, he paused. She had followed him, stepping into his space—again. His silence was deliberate; he knew the truth about Uday Khatri would only infuriate her further. She would never accept his help, never allow him to pay the debt hanging over her head.
Kashish looked around the room, realizing where she had stepped. It was his room—the place she despised the most. Her gaze shifted, landing on an easel by the poolside. A sketch was resting on it, partly concealed by a thin layer of translucent paper. The sight of it stopped her cold. Did he sketch? That was something she hadn’t known. And then she saw the face beneath the paper—a face that seemed eerily familiar.
Her breath hitched. Was that... her?
Rudra saw where her attention had drifted and quickly stepped in front of the easel, blocking her view.
“Get out of my room,” he commanded, his voice harsh.
But her focus had shifted.
“What have you drawn?” she asked, ignoring his demand. She was no longer concerned with the incident in Uttam Nagar. Her curiosity was piqued by the sketch—by the possibility that he had drawn her .
Rudra’s jaw tightened. He cursed himself for leaving the drawing board exposed. He knew what she would do if she saw it. She’d tear the sketch to pieces, accuse him of intentions he couldn’t explain, and it would only escalate her hatred.
“I said get out,” he repeated, his voice even more commanding.
Kashish, undeterred, tried to push past him to get a closer look. But Rudra grabbed her arm, stopping her. He couldn’t let her see it. Not now. Not ever. He knew this confrontation would only end badly, with more accusations, more hurt. She would never understand.
Without another word, he dragged her to the door and pushed her out, gently but firmly.
“The next time I tell you to leave, you leave immediately ,” he warned, shutting the door in her face.
Kashish stood there, stunned. His reaction had confirmed her suspicions—the face on the sketch was hers. But why? Why had he drawn her face? Was she haunting him? Was he obsessed with her image, seeking some twisted form of forgiveness? Or... was there something else?
Her thoughts spiraled, and a dark possibility crept into her mind. Could he have some other interest in her? Her blood boiled at the thought. He had killed her father. How could he even dare think of her that way?
She clenched her fists, trying to push the disturbing thoughts aside. She was overthinking—surely. But the unsettling feeling lingered.
Rudra leaned against the door inside, his heart racing. Did she suspect something? Had she recognized her own face on that sketch? Hell, no! He couldn’t let this complicate things further.