Page 31 of One Hellish Love

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 insidehim. 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 behissuffering 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, whenhetouched 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, Rudrawatched 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.

CHAPTER 12

Next Day – Raheja Mansion

Rudra skimmed through some contract files struggling to concentrate. His mind kept drifting back to Kashish, and the bruises she’d gotten from pushing herself too hard during last night’s intense boxing practice.

They say distance doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder, but for Rudra, it did. The last eleven years he spent in isolation—from his own family and from himself—had only deepened his sorrow. Yet, in the midst of all that grief, one face gave him solace: the face of Kashish, the girl whose hatred for him burned as fiercely as the guilt he carried. He knew it wasn’t right. She was just a girl back then, and he had no idea who she was now. But his feelings grew anyway, becoming deeper as time went by.

Day by day, year by year, he found himself drawn to her, even without crossing paths again. He knew this pull was a double-edged sword, leading only to heartbreak. But he couldn’t turn back. This one-sided love had become the most real thing in his life. It was painful, but it was also what kept him alive. For Rudra, breathing and loving Kashish meant the same.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. His grandmother and Shekhar entered. While his grandmother took a seat beside him, Shekhar settled in the recliner across from them.

“What’s your age, Rudra?” Daadi asked, her tone pointed.

Rudra raised an eyebrow. “You know it better than I do, Daadi. What’s this about?”

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