Rudra's POV
She shouldn’t have looked at me like that.
Like she wasn’t afraid.
Like she belonged here.
I told myself I was just passing by. That I only wanted to check on the baby. But the truth was—I came to look at her.
Again.
She sat on the edge of the bed now, patting his back softly. The lullaby had stopped, but her lips still moved, murmuring some prayer under her breath.
For him?
For forgiveness?
For Aarzoo?
I didn’t care.
I stepped inside, door clicking shut behind me.
She turned. Her eyes met mine.
And something in me—snapped.
“You think this makes you good?” My voice came out low, dangerous. “That if you play mother, I’ll forget what you did?”
She blinked. “I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. She stood, still holding the baby. “He’s crying a lot today. He needs—”
“I said don’t lie.”
I grabbed the child from her arms, too roughly. He let out a sharp wail. She flinched.
Good.
I laid him in the crib and turned back to her.
“You poisoned her,” I spat. “You handed her the cup. You watched her die.”
Tears rose in her eyes, quick and silent. “No… I didn’t know. I didn’t—”
I moved before I could think.
The belt was hanging on the chair. I don’t even remember picking it up.
Only the sound it made—crack—as it cut through air and skin.
Her scream wasn’t loud. Just a gasp. Like she hadn’t expected it. Like pain was still new to her.
I should’ve stopped there.
But I didn’t.
The leather struck again.
And again.
Until she was on her knees, hands shielding her head, back bent, the thin cotton of that damn suit sticking to her skin, already marked red.
I was breathing hard. My hand shook.
She didn’t cry out this time.
She just stayed there. Shaking. Whimpering.
And somehow, that broke me more.
I dropped the belt.
“What are you trying to prove?” I hissed, kneeling down in front of her. “That you’re innocent? That I’m the villain?”
Her face was streaked with tears. She didn’t answer.
I reached out and grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look at me.
“You don’t get to be the victim,” I said. “You don’t get to cry.”
But she was crying.
And still-still-my thumb brushed away one of those tears. Slowly. Like a traitor.
I stared at her lips.
At her trembling chest.
At the bruises already forming under the fabric.
And for a second, I wanted to kiss her.
Not to comfort.
But to claim.
To punish in a different way.
I stood up abruptly.
“I should throw you out,” I said, voice hollow. “But I won’t. Not yet.”
I turned and left the room before I did something worse.
But even with the door closed behind me, her sobs followed me.
And they didn’t sound like guilt.
They sounded like haunting.
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Only His✔️
RomanceI thought monsters lived in nightmares. Then I met him. Rudra is powerful, feared, and impossible to defy. When he took me into his mansion, I thought it was to save me. I was wrong. His kindness hides chains. His touch burns like fire and freezes l...
