Page 73 of One Hellish Love

Rudra smirked but kept his usual cool demeanor. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Kashish, who was talking to a colleague, he quickly diverted his gaze.

Jay took the mic and began addressing the group.

“Thank you, everyone, for being a part of this fun activity. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and while some of you may have your own plans, there are a few single souls like me—” (the room chuckled) “—who rely on these little events to make the day special. We all know the rules, so let’s get started. Pick a chit, be someone’s secret Valentine, and make their day unforgettable!”

Applause filled the room as staff members began picking their chits one by one. When it was Kashish’s turn, she walked forward, reached into the pot, and after a few seconds of rifling through the chits, picked one. As she walked back to her place, her hand tightened around the slip of paper. Her heart suddenly raced as she read the name and shot a gaze straight to Rudra. Of all the names in the pot, she had to pick his?Rudra Raheja—her Secret Valentine?How was this possible? She clenched the chit tightly in her fist, struggling to process the absurdity of the situation. She would have to buy him a gift now? This was beyond coincidence; it felt like some kind of cosmic joke.

While she tried to calm herself, Rudra stepped forward to pick his chit. Kashish watched him intently, trying to decipher his reaction as he read the name. But his face remained unreadable. He pocketed the chit casually and focused on the others, giving no indication whose name he had drawn.

Kashish’s mind was racing. Whose Secret Valentine could he possibly be? But that shouldn’t be her concern. The real issue was thatshehad to be his. Of all the people in the room, fate had played the cruelest trick on her.

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When she returned home from work, she spotted Daadi already seated in the living room, almost as if waiting for her. Kashish had planned to unwind a bit, enjoy a quiet cup of tea, but seeing Daadi sitting there made her rethink. She knew exactly what conversation was waiting for her. Trying to avoid Daadi’s attention, she attempted to slip past unnoticed, but it was in vain.

“Kashish,” Daadi’s voice called out, forcing her to stop. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to escape me?” Daadi asked, her eyes narrowing.

Kashish frowned. “Because Iamescaping,” she bluntly replied.

Daadi sighed in disappointment. The tension between her and Kashish felt unbreakable. What on earth did Rudra see in this girl that made him so protective, so devoted to her?

“Had you thought about my proposal?” Daadi cut straight to the point. “I hoped you’d reconsidered.”

Kashish let out a heavy sigh. Why was Daadi still pursuing this after she had already declined last night? What was it going to take to make her stop?

“I already told you, I’m not interested in doing this. Please ask someone else,” Kashish responded, her voice firm but weary.

“What are you making her do, Daadi?” Rudra suddenly interrupted. He and Shekhar had just walked in and overheard the tail end of the conversation. Kashish stiffened the moment she saw him. Lately, every time she crossed paths with him, she was reminded of the fact that she was hissecret valentine. How was she supposed to pick a gift for a man who already had everything?

Rudra strode forward, his gaze flicking between Daadi and Kashish.

“Rudra, it’s nothing important,” Daadi quickly tried to deflect. “You two are home early today.”

“Yes, Daadi. We finished up at the office quicker than usual,” Shekhar added.

But Rudra wasn’t convinced. Daadi and Kashish barely exchanged words, so any conversation between them was certainly not trivial. He sensed something was off, and his sharp instincts told him that there was more to this than met the eye. While Daadi distracted Shekhar, Rudra stepped closer to Kashish.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

Kashish crossed her arms, a sigh escaping her. “Oh, so now you have time to talk to me?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

Rudra held back a smile. She looked striking when she was angry, a fire in her eyes that made her even more defiant. He had always seen her treat him with cold indifference or outright hatred, but this was different—she actuallywantedto talk to him. And of course, it had to be about the favors he had done for her.

Suddenly, a smirk crept across Kashish’s face as an idea hit her. “You know what? Let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you exactly what Daadi wants from me—on one condition. You talk to me about this repayment thing,” she offered, her smirk widening.

It was a challenge, a daring move on her part. She was clearly hiding something, and the idea that she and Daadi might be plotting together piqued his curiosity. What could these two possibly have in common?

“Is that how you think deals are made?” he shot back.

“It’s not a deal. It’s the ancient barter system,” she retorted with a glint in her eyes. “You give me something, I give you something in return. Think about it. Good night.”

Before he could respond, Kashish turned on her heel and headed to her bedroom, leaving him standing there, momentarily speechless. Did she just... wish him good night? She had never, in all their history, offered him anything remotely polite, let alone a good night. Tonight was definitely different. Yet amidst all this, Rudra couldn’t shake the feeling that something bigger was brewing between them.

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That night, as Kashish sat in her room sketching designs, the soft strumming of a guitar drifted into her ears. So, Mr. Music Lover was at it again. She tried to ignore it, focusing on her sketches, but the melancholic tune kept pulling at her attention. Couldn’t he play something more cheerful for once? But what was she expecting from a man who had no concept of happiness? A man who only knew how to steal others’ joy, just like he hadstolen hers. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the wave of bitterness. Why was she even thinking about this now? She had promised herself to move past it.

Yet, as the guitar’s tune shifted, something in the sound tugged at her, compelling her to get up. She found herself walking toward his room, unsure if she really wanted to go in. She stopped at his door, which was slightly ajar. Couldn’t he at least close it? But then again, this was his house. He could do whatever he wanted. Peeking through the crack, she saw him—sitting on the floor, his back leaned against the edge of the bed, lost in the music. His face was clouded with sadness, as if he were mourning something. Was he missing someone? An ex, maybe? The small yellow lamp illuminated the room dimly, casting soft shadows. It suited him, she thought—a man who thrived in darkness.

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