Page 80 of One Hellish Love

“Daadi, please. When I’m ready, I’ll let you know,” Rudra cut her off again, his patience wearing thin.

Daadi’s frustration was palpable.

“You’ll never be ready. You keep locking people out. You can’t live like this forever, Rudra.”

Kashish silently agreed. He needed to change, to confront his problems rather than hide from them.

“You can’t run from happiness. Embrace it,” Daadi pressed on.

Rudra’s agitation was building. He wiped his face with a napkin and stood up.

“I don’t want unnecessary attachments. I like living on my own terms.”

“Your terms aren’t always right,” Kashish interrupted, unable to stay quiet any longer.

Rudra shot her a dangerous look.

“Stay quiet.”

“This is home, you’re not my boss here. Stop threatening me,” she fired back, undeterred.

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

“What difference does it make? You never listen to me anyway, whether at home or work,” he growled.

“Get a wife. Maybe she’ll listen to you,” Kashish snapped.

Rudra’s jaw clenched.

“Enough. One more word about my marriage and I’m leaving for Paris—forever,” he warned, his anger flaring.

Daadi looked stricken. Kashish stood her ground.

“That’s pure blackmail.”

“I haven’t even begun blackmailing. Don’t push me,” Rudra retorted before storming out.

Kashish turned to Daadi, guilt flickering in her eyes.

“I’ll talk to him again. Don’t worry.”

She grabbed her purse and hurried after him. Rudra was already in the backseat of the car, and Mohan was about to drive off when Kashish blocked their way. Rudra glared at her through the window but she quickly opened the door and slid into the seat beside him.

“Will you drop me at work? I don’t want to be late again. My boss is relentless when it comes to humiliating me,” she muttered, her tone sarcastic.

The anger that had been simmering in Rudra seemed to evaporate. She was actually asking him for a favor—a major change. Kashish shut the door, and as she turned, their heads accidentally collided. She groaned, rubbing her forehead in pain. Rudra winced too but said nothing.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

He didn’t look away from her, his gaze intense. She kept rubbing her forehead, clearly hurting more than she let on. As the car started, Rudra finally shifted his gaze to the window.

“I know why you’re against marriage,” she said softly.

He turned to her, his expression sharp and speculative.

“You have haphephobia,” she continued, her voice steady.

Rudra’s jaw tightened. Of course, Lavina had told her.

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