𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑:- 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡

【Ａｕｔｈｏｒ＇ｓ　ｐｏｖ：】

Vania rises from her seat like a slow-burning flame refusing to be snuffed out. Her voice doesn’t tremble. Her eyes don’t flinch. 

“Yes. I’m not giving you a divorce.” 

The audacity of it makes Rudraksh laugh—but it’s not joy. It’s mockery dipped in venom.

“You think you have any choice in this?” he scoffs. “Vania, you’re naive. When I say something, it’s a command. Not a suggestion. People obey. You will obey too.” 

But she shakes her head, gently, like a feather resisting the storm. 

“No. Not this time. I won’t. I’m not leaving you.” 

That simple refusal—bold and calm—rattles him more than a scream ever could.

His voice sharpens. 

“You will. I’ll make you. I have my ways, Vania. Don’t forget who you’re talking to.” 

And Vania, bless her wild heart, meets his fire with quiet steel. 

“I know who you are… but you seem to have forgotten—you’re a husband too.” 

That word hits like a punch. Husband.

It wraps around him like a chain he never agreed to wear. 

“I don’t accept that,” he spits. “It was my mother’s last wish, and I fulfilled it. That’s it. Now you must leave, Vania.” 

Something twists in her chest. A sharp crack—but she doesn’t crumble. 

“Leave?” she whispers. Her voice breaks but her spine doesn’t. 

“After spending my whole life here? Not knowing what freedom smells like? Never stepping outside these damn walls? And now, suddenly, you tell me to just go?” 

She steps closer. Her pain—palpable, pure. 

“When you keep a bird caged for years… it forgets how to fly. And when the door finally opens—it doesn’t leave. Because the sky is terrifying when all you’ve known is the cage.” 

“Aur tum keh rahe ho ki main ud jaun?” (And you're telling me to just fly away?) 

Rudraksh’s jaw twitches. It’s the truth. The kind of truth that slaps harder than rage. From childhood, she was protected—no, controlled. Kept hidden. Educated inside, loved within limits, caged under the pretext of ‘safety’. No outings. No visitors. No existence beyond this palace. She’s a secret dressed in silk. A woman raised in shadows.

“You’re irritating, Vania,” he growls. “And stubborn. But don’t forget my reach—my power. I can give you anything you want. Just grab this chance and leave. I’ll make sure you never lack anything.” 

Vania lifts her chin, eyes glimmering with unshed tears—and something more dangerous. 

Hope. 

“Okay,” she says softly. “I’ll leave.” 

Rudraksh blinks. It’s too easy. He doesn’t trust it. 

She continues, voice calm, too calm. 

“But on one condition.” 

He crosses his arms, smug returning like a habit.“Name it. You’ll have it.” 

She looks into his eyes unshaken, unafraid. “You,” she says. “I want you.”

For a moment, the world tilts. Rudraksh doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. He just stares at her, as if she’s spoken in a language not meant for his ears. Did she—Did she just say that? She wants him? Him—the man whose name makes the bravest men cower? Him—who’s been called a devil more times than a man? 

It’s madness.

Frustration flares in his veins, hot and consuming. His steps close the distance in a blink, until he’s right in front of her—so close, their breaths tangle. The air crackles. The world shrinks to just them. 

Vania should feel intimidated—anyone would. But she doesn’t move. Doesn’t cower. Those eyes—big, honest, stubborn—hold his without flinching. And Rudraksh hates it. He speaks, voice sharp as a blade. “Did you just say that?”  A cruel chuckle escapes him—low, bitter. “You’re really fucking stupid, Vania.”  His words drip poison. “I’m a man of darkness, and you want me? Me? The one they call the devil himself?” He leans in, his voice a dangerous whisper.  “It’s funny.” 

Each word is a dagger, meant to cut deep. And it does. Vania is fragile, soft, untouched by cruelty—yet here she is, facing it head-on. The weight of his words presses against her chest, but she refuses to let it crush her. From the corners of the room, the servants watch. Sympathetic. Silent. Helpless.  They know. 

They know she deserves better than this. 

Better than him.

Then why? Why did Sunita do this?

Why did she tie this soft, breakable soul to a man who doesn’t even believe he has a heart? Why did she claim to love Vania more than herself—yet throw her into a hell she can’t escape?  It doesn’t make sense. Unless—unless Sunita knew something no one else did. A tear slips down Vania’s cheek, silent, shimmering.  And then—she speaks. 

Softly. Gently. Like she’s laying her soul bare. 

"I love you." 

The words freeze him. Love.

Foreign. Unreal. Unbelievable. 

His breath catches. For the first time, Rudraksh Martin has nothing to say.  He looks into her eyes—searching. And fuck.  He sees it. 

The truth. The unbearable, inescapable truth. She means it. 

Every syllable, every letter—etched in those eyes that look at him like he’s worth something. Like he’s human.

His stomach twists. His chest tightens.  No.  No, this is a joke. A fucking lie. A delusion. “What nonsense, Vania!” He snaps, voice rough. “Watch your tongue.” 

She doesn’t even flinch. 

“You’re speaking nonsense,” he grits out, as if saying it aloud will make it true. “Love? Me? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

He scoffs, forcing himself to sneer. 

“And when did this happen, huh?” He steps back, as if putting space between them will stop the suffocation creeping in. “I haven’t been here for decades.” 

But deep down, he knows— His presence was never needed for her to fall.

His name. His words. His memory. 

Sunita’s whispers. The stories. The devotion. All of it—woven into Vania’s heart like an unshakable truth. And now, here she stands—a girl mad enough to love a monster.

A girl who doesn’t see his sins. A girl who just made the devil feel something close to fear. 

Because Rudraksh Martin knows how to handle enemies. 

How to handle weapons, blood, death.  He knows how to handle cheap flings. One-night stands. Meaningless touches. 

But love?  He has no fucking id

ea what to do with love. 

And that terrifies him more than anything else ever has. 

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰