Page 47 of One Hellish Love

“If you don’t want to share it with me, I won’t take it,” he said, his gaze intense.

Kashish swallowed hard, then sighed.

“You want to know what I think?”

Rudra nodded, waiting.

“I think sharing your joy with your enemies only amplifies it,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her eyes gleamed with a wicked smile. “And I don’t need to tell you who my enemy is, do I? So, take it.”

Rudra’s heart raced.Enemy.He’d rather be her enemy than the one title that weighed heavier:her father’s murderer.He reached out, taking a Jalebi from the plate, his eyes locked onto hers as he took a bite.

“Congratulations, Miss Bedi. I hope you climb every ladder of success and make your father proud,” he said softly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Kashish’s face twisted, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Her father. The mention of him always tore her apart.

“Don’t you dare talk about my father,” she spat, her voice trembling with anger. “You lost that right the moment you took his life.”

Before Rudra could respond, she turned and stormed away, leaving the plate of Jalebis on the table. He clenched his fists, furious at himself for hurting her again.

Shekhar and Anjali looked on in shock. Rudra took a deep breath and walked out. He had ruined a moment of joy, again. Every word he spoke only brought her more pain. How many times would he hurt her, knowingly or not?

This had to stop. He couldn’t keep breaking her like this. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted. Not in this life, or the next.

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

The next day, Rudra was in his bedroom when Ram Prasad knocked on his door and entered the room.

“Sir, these letters came for you yesterday.”

Rudra took the stack from him, and Ram Prasad left. He quickly skimmed through the envelopes. Two were expected, but the third caught his attention. It was from the Uttam Nagar post office. Uttam Nagar. The name hit him hard. That was where Kashish lived as a child. His pulse quickened as he tore open the envelope, pulling out a letter that sent a cold chill down his spine.

Rudra Raheja,

I need to discuss some unsettled business with Keshav Bedi. If you’re too busy, I can take it up with his daughter. She’s never far from my sight.

Meet me on Sunday at 10:00 a.m. outside the Uttam Nagar Post Office. You won’t recognize me, but I know you. That’s the weakness of rich men. You can always be traced.

—Uday Khatri

Rudra crumpled the letter in his fist. Who the hell is Uday Khatri? What “unsettled business” did he have with Kashish’s father? And worst of all, he knew Kashish? How? Fury surged through Rudra as he stormed out of his room, his heart pounding with worry and anger.

“Ram Prasad!” he barked. “Where’s Kashish?”

“She left early this morning.”

“Where did she go?”

“I—I don’t know, Sir. She didn’t say.”

That didn’t sit right with Rudra. It was Sunday, no reason for her to be at work. Panic clawed at him. He dialed her number. Twice she ignored his call, driving him mad with anxiety. The third time, she finally answered, and he didn’t waste a second.

“Where the hell are you?” he demanded, his voice raw with anger and fear.

Kashish didn’t even need to hear his name to know it was him. But what right did he have to call and interrogate her?

“I don’t need to report to you outside of working hours,” she shot back, her irritation clear.

He forced himself to calm down. She was safe. For now.

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