Chapter 1
"Some people die the day they stop breathing. Others die the day they stop loving. Rudraksh Khurana died the day he walked away."
The penthouse was cold. It was always cold now.
Rudraksh sat on the edge of his king-sized bed, the silk sheets tangled around his waist. The room was dark, save for the dim light of the digital clock on the nightstand.
06:00 AM.
Another day.
Another 24 hours to pretend he was fine.
Another 24 hours closer to the end.
He reached out, his hand trembling slightly a tremor he told everyone was due to "fatigue" and grabbed the bottle of pills. No water. He swallowed two dry, the bitter taste grounding him in reality.
He stood up and walked to the ceiling window. Mumbai was waking up below him, bathed in grey morning mist.
"Two years," he whispered to the glass. "730 days."
Two years since he let go of the only hand that made him feel warm.
Two years since he became the 'Villain' so she could be the 'Queen'.
He coughed, a racking, painful sound that tore through his chest. He grabbed a tissue, pressing it to his lips. When he pulled it away, he checked it. No blood today. Good.
He was better today.
Rudraksh sat in his massive leather chair, staring blankly at the rain hitting the window pane. His body was in the room, but his mind was still somewhere in the past, remembering the sound of her laugh, the smell of her vanilla perfume.
The door burst open.
Shaurya walked in, balancing a stack of unopened files, a ringing office phone, and a steaming cup of black coffee. He looked exhausted, his hair slightly messy. He was Rudraksh's PA, his best friend, and the only person keeping this firm-and Rudraksh-from falling apart.
"You didn't eat breakfast, Rudra," Shaurya said, placing the coffee on the table. His tone was sharp, but his eyes were full of worry.
Rudraksh didn't turn around. "Bhookh nahi hai."
"You need calories. The meds are strong," Shaurya argued, walking over to organize the messy desk. He tossed a fresh, thick file onto the table. "And we don't have time for a hunger strike. Mr. Mehra kabse call kar rahe hain."
Rudraksh rubbed his temples. The headache was starting again. A dull throb behind his eyes. "Send Mehra away. I'm not taking new cases."
"We can't," Shaurya sighed, finally sitting down and running a hand through his hair. "He's paying triple. It's a massive IP theft case. Some top fashion house allegedly stole his designs. He says if he loses this, he's bankrupt."
Rudraksh closed his eyes. The pain in his head spiked. He wasn't listening to the details. He just wanted the noise to stop.
"Shaurya, I said no."
"Rudra, listen to me," Shaurya's voice softened. "The firm needs this. You... you might not be here forever to handle things. If we secure this win, the firm's reputation is set for the next five years. Do it for the legacy."
Secure the firm. That caught Rudraksh's attention. He needed to leave Shaurya and the staff secure. That was his duty.
"Is the case solid?" Rudraksh asked, his voice hollow, his gaze still fixed on a raindrop racing down the glass.
"Mehra says it is. I haven't gone through the details yet, I just got the file this morning," Shaurya admitted, tapping the thick folder. "But it's high profile. Easy win for a shark like you."
Rudraksh didn't ask who they were suing. He didn't care. To him, every opponent was just a faceless name to be destroyed. He just wanted Shaurya to stop talking so he could close his eyes.
"Fine," Rudraksh murmured, waving his hand dismissively. "Take it. Prepare the filing."
Shaurya blinked, relieved. "Okay. Good. I'll get started."
Rudraksh stood up, picking up his coat. "I'm going for a drive. Migraine is killing me."
"Phone to lete jao!" Shaurya called out.
"Yeah, yeah" Rudraksh muttered, grabbing his keys and walking out without looking back.
The office was quiet. Shaurya took a sip of Rudraksh's untouched coffee and pulled the heavy "Mehra Case" file toward him.
"Alright, let's check out the details." Shaurya muttered to himself, opening the cover.
Plaintiff : Mehra Fashion House
Defendent : Oberoi Enterprises
Representative : Kashvi Singh Oberoi
Shaurya froze.
The coffee cup slipped from his hand, crashing onto the floor. Hot liquid splattered everywhere, but he didn't move.
His eyes were glued to the name. Kashvi.
The girl Rudraksh destroyed himself to save. The girl whose name was banned in this office.
"No..." Shaurya whispered, his face draining of color. "No, no, no."
He grabbed his phone to call Rudraksh, to tell him to turn the car around, to tell him they couldn't take this case.
But before he could even dial, the glass doors swung open.
"Mr. Shaurya!"
Mr. Mehra barged in, followed by two anxious assistants. He looked frantic, sweating profusely. "Thank god you are here. The media is already calling. We need to file the lawsuit today! Right now!
Shaurya quickly shut the file, hiding the name. "Mr. Mehra, please listen. We need to discuss-"
"Discuss what?" Mehra interrupted, his voice rising in panic. "I am paying triple! Triple the fees! My reputation is on the line. If Mr Khurana doesn't take this, I am finished. Please, tell me he is taking it!"
Shaurya was cornered. He couldn't say 'No' without a valid reason, and he couldn't even explain the real reason to a client.
"Mr. Mehra, it's not about the money, it's just that-"
Click. The sound of the heavy cabin door opening cut him off.
Both men turned.
Rudraksh walked in. He didn't look at anyone. just walked straight towards his desk, unbuttoning his coat.
"Sir!" Mehra rushed towards him. "Thank you! Thank you for coming back. Please, save my company."
Rudraksh didn't answer. He didn't even blink. He just pulled out his chair and sat down, staring at the empty space on his desk.
Shaurya stepped forward, his voice low and urgent. "Sir... wait. Before you agree, you need to see who-"
"Give me the file, Shaurya," Rudraksh interrupted. His voice was rough, dry. devoid of any emotion.
"Rudraksh Sir, listen to me," Shaurya tried again, gripping the file tighter. "The opposition. It's... it's not just a random company. You need to know-"
"Does it matter?" Rudraksh finally looked up.
Shaurya stopped. He saw the dead look in Rudraksh's eyes. It was the look of a man who had nothing left to lose.
"They are all the same, Shaurya," Rudraksh said softly, holding out his hand. "Liars. Thieves. Just give me the damn file."
Mehra was watching, confused. The tension in the room was suffocating. Shaurya looked at Mehra, then at Rudraksh's shaking hand. He realized he had no choice.
With a heavy heart, Shaurya placed the file in Rudraksh's hand.
I'm sorry bhai, Shaurya thought. I'm so sorry.
Rudraksh opened the folder.
The room went silent.
Rudraksh's eyes scanned the first page.
He stopped.
Kashvi Singh Oberoi.
The name stared back at him.
Shaurya held his breath, waiting for the explosion. Waiting for Rudraksh to throw the file, to scream, to storm out.
But nothing happened.
Rudraksh stared at the name for five long seconds. His expression didn't change. Not a flicker of anger. Not a tear.
He just blinked, once.
Then, slowly, he picked up a pen.
"Sir?" Shaurya whispered, terrified by the silence.
Rudraksh didn't look up. He simply uncapped the pen and started underlining the clauses in the lawsuit.
"Mr. Mehra," Rudraksh said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Sit down. Let's discuss the case."
Shaurya stepped back, feeling a chill run down his spine.
This wasn't Rudraksh fighting a case.
This was Rudraksh accepting his punishment.
He was going to war against the woman he loved, and he wasn't going to fight it. He was just... waiting for the end.
