Page 29 of One Hellish Love

But just as she stepped outside, the skies opened up, and it began to rain heavily.

“Damn it!” she cursed under her breath. “Not now...”

There was nowhere to seek shelter. She was already outside the office gates, and going back in wouldn’t make a difference—she was soaked. Shivering in the cold, she checked her phone. The cab was still 10 minutes away.

Her teeth chattered, and she wiped the rain from her face, her legs trembling from the cold. Just then, she realized something—the rain wasn’t hitting her anymore. She turned around, startled to see Rudra standing behind her, holding an umbrella over her head.

He was completely drenched, yet he held the umbrella only for her.

RAIN.

It was a force that connected them in ways neither could ignore—a reminder of the pain, the tragedy that had forever linked their fates. Ever since that night, the rain had become a bitter enemy to Rudra. The storm had blurred his vision that fateful evening when he lost control of the car and destroyed her life. The boy who once loved running in the rain to play football had grown to despise it with every fiber of his being.

But tonight, as he saw Kashish shivering in the rain, he couldn’t stop himself. He rushed to shield her from the downpour, despite his own aversion.

The water dripped from their faces, their bodies tense. Kashish’s blood boiled with anger at the unwanted help. She was about to step away, determined to reject his protection, when Rudra gripped the umbrella and placed it firmly in her hand.

“Rain has never been kind to either of us. You’ll get sick... And to make me suffer, you’ll need to stay fit... So, take it.”

His words struck her harder than the cold rain ever could. She stood there, gripping the umbrella, watching him turn back and walk away, completely drenched. The shock of his actions left her rooted in place, unsure of how to react.

By the time she considered dropping the umbrella and storming off, her cab arrived. She folded the umbrella mechanically and got into the car.

Help. From him. The last thing she ever wanted, the last thing she’d ever accept.

The man who had destroyed her childhood... How dare he protect her now?

The cab drove away, but her thoughts remained with him, replaying the strange encounter. Why? Why would he help her? Why wouldn’t he let her hate him fully, completely, without question?

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

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 himlike 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.

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