𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 :- 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

【Ａｕｔｈｏｒ＇ｓ　ｐｏｖ：】

Vania's voice slices through the silence-soft, but oh, it shakes the storm inside him.

"Nonsense? You think it's nonsense?"

She steps forward, like she's walking into the fire instead of away from it.

Her eyes glisten-but not from weakness. From strength. From truth.

"Rudraksh, I do love you. For me, the meaning of love... it's you."

He stiffens.

She doesn't stop.

She never stops.

"I learned what love is when I fell for you. Bari Maa always told me to sit like this, walk like that, speak a certain way because Rudra likes it this way."

Her voice breaks a little-but it's the kind of break that builds something stronger.

"I gave my whole life to you. Every choice I made, every part of me-I moulded it to fit your shadow. To be someone you could maybe, someday... call wife."

Her lip trembles-but she holds her ground.

"And now you're telling me it's nonsense?"

Rudraksh breathes in slowly-like he's trying not to explode.

Because she's undoing him.

Word by word.

"Rudraksh, I don't know why you're pushing me away," she whispers. "Why you want to get rid of me. But I'm not leaving you."

Her gaze lifts, meets his with unshakable softness.

"Not now. Not ever."

And that- That shatters him.

The moment of silence between them feels like the world is holding its breath.

But Rudraksh-he doesn't break. He burns. And he lets the flame spill out. He roars, "Because I hate you!"

The words echo, venomous and raw.

"I hate your stupidity! I hate your fucking purity! You're a threat to my darkness! A liability I didn't ask for!"

His voice is fire, but his eyes?

His eyes are desperation dressed as fury.

"And you will leave me, Vania." He steps closer, towering over her, like a storm threatening to drown. "Trust me, you will. This little fantasy you have of love-it'll vanish the second I start to break you."

His lip mixtures curl into a cruel smile. "And I love to break things." He leans in-dangerously close. "It can be things, rules, or people-I don't give a damn."

He whispers like he's promising a curse. "So brace yourself, angel. You've invited hell with open fucking hands."

But Vania...She doesn't step back. Doesn't flinch. Her chin lifts. "No amount of venom you spit will make me walk away from you." Her voice is calm. Deadly calm. Like a lullaby before war.

"It's something I'm just... not capable of."

Each word she speaks is a blade to his chest. She, the twenty-one-year-old untouched by sin, is offering her love-her soul-to a man who only knows how to destroy.

And Rudraksh? He shuts his eyes. Tightly. He clenches his fists.

'Don't listen,' he tells himself. 'Don't look at her.' But her voice lingers like perfume. Her eyes burn behind his eyelids.

She's fucking with your head.

She's just a naive doll... crafted by your mother to torture you-even after her death.

His mind screams. His soul? Already halfway gone. He wants to destroy something. Rip the walls apart. Bleed the rage out of his veins. But he stays rooted. Frozen.

Because this girl-This fragile-looking, tear-stained woman with stars in her eyes and fire in her chest-Has just done what bullets, blades, and betrayals couldn't.

She's threatened the devil's grip on his throne. And that?

That is far more dangerous than any bullet ever aimed at his chest.

He exhales like a ticking bomb.

Then, he turns. Cold. Sharp. Calculated. "You, Vania... you will pay for this disobedience, this defiance. I'll make sure of it."

Each word is coated in venom.

But she doesn't flinch this time.

She just watches him walk away like her soul is being dragged behind him.

And then-The moment his back is turned, She collapses into the chair.

Like a puppet whose strings have finally snapped. Her sobs aren't loud-but they echo. In this mansion of monsters, heartbreak still makes noise.

He stops at the door. Hears her cry.

And of course-he smiles. Cruel. Cold. Sadistic. "I haven't even started yet, Vania." His voice drips with the delight of destruction. "Be careful with your tears... they'll be your best friend from now on."

He throws one last dagger.

"Because I'm not stopping-not until you run from me like the rest of them."

And just like that-he disappears into the dark.

Suruchi rushes to her like a panicked mother. A glass of water in one hand, trembling. She presses it into Vania's palms, patting her head gently-like trying to fix cracks in glass with soft touches. Vania falls into her arms. Sobs like a child.

Suruchi whispers, "He's changed."

Her eyes flicker toward the corridor he vanished into. "Those eyes are empty now... a far cry from the boy I used to admire. The boy who once saved a puppy from the rain and cried when his mother bled her finger." She laughs bitterly. "Now he bleeds others and smiles."

Kaya scoffs. "You forgot what he is now?" Her voice carries the truth like a blade. "A beast."

Suruchi nods. "But beasts... beasts are meant to be feared, not adored."

And Vania-poor, broken, but still burning Vania-Looks up with swollen eyes. "But I can't hate him," she whispers. Her voice is so soft, it sounds like prayer and punishment.

"Even if someday... I want to. What am I supposed to do?"

She clutches her chest, like trying to hold her own heart from crumbling.

"I need her... I need Bari Maa to guide me..." Her gaze lifts to the ceiling, as if Sunita's spirit might whisper from the chandeliers.

A silent plea: Come back... please, just one more time.

Suruchi hugs her tighter, grounding her to the earth. She strokes her hair, gently-like how a mother might comfort her child after a nightmare.

"Vania," she whispers, "do you remember what Bari Maa used to say?" Her voice carries memory and grief.

"If you want something... fight for it. Bleed for it. Break rules for it. Earn it."

She holds her by the shoulders now, eyes sharp with truth. "If you want that man-the one who wants to break you-then you've got to be a fighter."

Her voice cracks with emotion. "You remember what Sekhar Sir used to say to her?"

Vania's lips curve weakly, even through the tears. "You have to be a fighter if you claim to be a lover."

Suruchi smiles faintly, wiping a tear from the corner of Vania's eye.

"Exactly. So be bold. Be shameless. Be strong enough to earn him."

Then her tone shifts-gentle, but laced with warning. "But Vania... be careful. He's not just broken. He's far beyond human now."

Her voice lowers to a whisper.

"He can hurt you in ways you can't even imagine. Wanting him is a death wish."

She leans in, brushing back Vania's hair. "I want the best for you. But it's your war. Choose your battlefield wisely."

And Vania...The same girl who crumbled moments ago, Now rises from that chair. A little broken. A little bent. But still standing. She wipes her tears-each one a drop of loyalty that refused to fall silently.

Not weakness. Not surrender.

But silent promises carved on her skin. She looks ahead-eyes no longer moist but burning,

Voice no longer soft but rooted in something dangerous-Madness... or maybe love.

The lines blur now.

"I'll fight for my love," she whispers.

And the air around her stills.

Because her voice?

It's not a whisper.

It's a vow dressed like mercy.

Her words bleed resolve.

Her heart-both sword and shield.

"Even if that means fighting with the person I love...more than life itself."

She isn't just in love. She's ready for war.

"From tomorrow, I'll do anything required to break through those walls he has created," she says, her voice sharp like morning frost.

"I'll take the hell he pours on me. I'll stand my ground until he gets exhausted and gives in."

Suruchi walks toward her, silent but strong. She places her hand on Vania's shoulder-Not to hold her back, but to steady her. To remind her that even warriors need an anchor. And sometimes love is the battlefield and the weapon both.

The next morning :

The sun rises quietly, but the fire in her chest roars louder.

Vania moves through her routine like a rhythm she's memorised in sleep. Brush. Bathe. Braid. Pray to a God she's not sure listens anymore.

And then... the kitchen. She always cooks for Rudraksh. It's her way of loving-through taste, through touch, through the quiet warmth of spices.

But today?

She stops mid-step. Because the air smells... different. She furrows her brows as her gaze lands on the servants, bustling around like they've been trained overnight. "Why are you cooking his breakfast?" she asks, confused but still gentle.

"Give it to me; I'll do it."

Her voice remains soft, polite, as purely as Vania has always been-

A woman who doesn't raise her tone, but raises hearts instead.

The servant stammers, fear pooling in his throat. "Master ordered me to cook. From today, I will cook for him and serve him."

And just like that...The pan in her heart starts to sizzle. Why would Rudraksh say something like that?

He never cared much about food. Never interfered in this part of her day. So why now?

Her mind screams for logic, but her feet are already moving. The anklets around her ankles sing softly as she walks. Each step toward his office a quiet protest.

She doesn't knock.

She never does when she's hurting.

Rud

raksh looks up, and oh-The disgust in his eyes could kill flowers from across the room.

"The last thing I want to see in my life is you walking toward me. What a misfortune."