Page 2 of One Hellish Love

There, standing amidst the chaos, was a tiny figure—rage burning in her eyes, another stone clutched in her fist, ready to strike again. That 13-year-old girl’s gaze locked on Rudra with the intensity of someone whose soul was consumed by hatred. She lifted her arm, prepared to throw the second stone, her small frame trembling with fury.

Rudra stood frozen, unable to look away from her. She was no stranger. She was the one whose father had died that night—herfather had come under his car. The sheer force of her rage, the depth of pain in her eyes, hit him harder than the stone. He realized at that moment the enormity of what he had done. Her suffering crushed him, more painful than any punishment the court could give.

“Stop that girl,” a police officer shouted. “She’s Kashish—the deceased’s daughter.”

Before she could throw the stone, Roy rushed in, grabbing her wrist and wrenching the weapon from her hand. For a moment, he raised his hand as though to strike her, but Rudra instinctively raised his arm in protest from far averting Roy’s actions on time. She didn’t deserve to be hit. Not for this. Not after what he had taken away from her. Roy hesitated, lowering his hand, and though the girl didn’t flinch, her glare remained fixed—fearless, daring him to try.

Rudra was so lost in her eyes, so consumed by her rage, that he didn’t even feel the police officers shove him into the van. As the vehicle pulled away, her figure grew smaller in the distance, but her piercing gaze burned into his memory, a haunting reminder of the price he would pay for his crime.

As the van disappeared through the gates, the storm outside was nothing compared to the one brewing inside him.

*****************

Kashish Bedi stood still, numb, as she was escorted through the grand entrance of Raheja Mansion by an old maid. Her footsteps echoed in the silence as they moved toward the living room.So, this is where he belongs... the boy who killed my father?She couldn’t understand why she had been sent here. To live withthem? She would have preferred to survive alone on the streets than stay under the roof of the family responsible for her loss. She had fought against this decision in court, but her efforts were in vain. Just as Rudra would serve his punishment in the Juvenile Home, Kashish now felt sentenced to live here for the next 12 years of her life—until she turned 25.

Somesh Chaturvedi, the court official, gently held her hand as they waited for Savitri Raheja to appear. Two days had passed since Rudra had been taken to the Juvenile Home, and nowKashish was here, standing in the mansion of the family, with hatred rising in her chest.

When the 60-year-old, Savitri Raheja finally entered the room, her presence commanded it. Her sharp eyes briefly scanned Kashish with an emotion that she couldn’t quite place—was it contempt? Resentment? She felt a wave of anger surge inside her. This girl, this orphan, was a living reminder of everything they had lost. But Savitri couldn’t deny the bitter truth—her grandson was the reason Kashish had lost her only family.

Chaturvedi broke the tense silence, addressing Savitri Raheja.

“Savitriji, these are the court documents granting you legal custody of the girl.”

He handed her the papers. Without a word, Savitri signed them, her hands steady but her expression tight.

Chaturvedi continued, “At the end of every month, a court representative will visit to check on her welfare and get your signature. Should there be any complaints about mistreatment—”

Savitri raised her hand sharply, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“There will be no such complaints. She’ll be more comfortable here than she ever was in her own home.”

Kashish shot her a look full of venom, but Savitri’s face remained cold and unyielding.

Chaturvedi nodded, “We expect no less, Savitriji. Thank you.”

Before he left, Chaturvedi placed a hand on Kashish’s head, offering a blessing she neither asked for nor wanted. Within minutes, he was gone, leaving Kashish and Savitri alone in the unbearable silence of the grand living room. The tension waspalpable, and the hostility between the two women hung heavy in the air.

Savitri broke the silence, calling for the maid, Chanda.

“Take her to the guest room. She’ll be staying there from now.”

Chanda nodded and led Kashish upstairs.

*****************

The guest room was vast, lavish, almost palace-like. It was bigger than her entire home had been. Yet, despite its opulence, it felt hollow—cold, devoid of warmth. This was not her home. Nothing about this place would ever be home. Kashish quietly closed the door behind her, her heart aching with grief and loneliness. She walked slowly to the edge of the bed, sinking to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes as memories of her father washed over her. She could almost see him again—his gentle smile as he told her bedtime stories, the way he brushed her hair before school, his playful antics to make her take her medicine when she was sick.

If only that night had never happened... if only he hadn’t gone out to buy my favorite ice cream.Her tears flowed freely now; her sobs muffled as she pressed her face against her knees. The room was dark, and she wept for what felt like hours, alone, clinging to the edge of the bed.

Suddenly, she felt a presence. A plate of fruit was gently pushed towards her. Startled, she looked up to see a young man—perhaps 19 years old—standing before her. He had a calm smile and with that gentle look in his eyes, his presence felt disarming.

“Eat this. You must be hungry,” he said softly.

Kashish didn’t respond. Instead, she pushed the plate away and buried her face back between her knees.

“If you don’t eat it, Roxy will devour it all,” he warned playfully. “Then don’t come complaining later.”

Kashish lifted her head, confused.Roxy?Before she could ask, a small pug waddled into the room, dressed in a bright outfit. Kashish blinked in disbelief—was she hallucinating? Did they dress up their dogs? The boy knelt beside the dog, patting its head.

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