Chapter 10: What Happened?
Author's POV
Sunlight had already conquered the city.
It forced its way through the heavy white curtains of the master suite, turning the room into a battlefield of gold and shadow. Birds chirped somewhere far below—ordinary, careless sounds that felt like insults in a space built for silence.
Rudra Singh Chauhan slept deeply, unnaturally still, as if his body had finally surrendered to the war raging inside him. The black silk sheets were twisted around his waist, one arm flung across the empty side of the bed. For once, the feared mafia king looked almost human—until the strong knock shattered everything.
Rudra woke with a violent jerk.
Heart slamming against ribs like a trapped animal.
Hand automatically reaching for the gun under the pillow before his mind caught up.
The room was empty.
No threat.
Just the door.
He exhaled sharply, dragging a palm down his face.
The phone on the nightstand glowed like a warning beacon.
23 missed calls from Ayansh Thakur.
30 missed calls from Dad.
The numbers stared back at him, cold and familiar.
Rudra's throat closed.
He knew this pattern.
He had lived it once before.
Rudra's POV
The last time my phone looked like this—flooded with missed calls from Dad and Ayansh—was the day Mum died.
I was nineteen.
Out handling "business" like the good soldier I thought I was.
I didn't pick up.
I didn't answer.
I thought there would be time later.
There wasn't.
I walked into the hospital room too late.
She was already gone.
No last words.
No goodbye.
No sorry.
Just her hand, cold in mine, and the guilt that has never left.
The only woman I ever loved like that.
The only one I respected enough to let soften me, even for a second.
And I failed her in the worst way possible.
Why does this happen to me?
Why does every woman I let close slip away before I can hold on properly?
First my grandmother—when I was a child.
She left me barren, scattered, trying to understand why the person who held me together was suddenly gone.
Then my mother—teenage years.
Another woman I loved with everything I had.
Another goodbye I never got to say.
That was the day I decided: never again.
Never let another woman inside.
Never love again.
Because every time I did, they left.
Every time I opened my heart, I got betrayal in return.
Loneliness.
Emptiness.
I never cried.
Not once.
I suppressed it all—feelings, emotions, weakness.
I locked them away so deep no one would ever see.
So I would never look stupid.
Never look broken.
The hollow space they left behind is still hollow.
Still bleeding quietly.
I stared at the missed calls, chest aching like someone had driven a blade between my ribs and twisted.
Dad's thirty calls weren't casual.
Ayansh's twenty-three weren't friendly check-ins.
This was bad.
Very bad.
Just as the thought landed, another knock—rapid, desperate, urgent.
My body went alert.
Not scared.
Alert.
Something bad had happened.
Or was about to.
Because this felt exactly like that day.
The same dread.
The same silence before the storm.
I took a deep breath, forced my legs to move.
Stood up.
Walked to the door.
Hand on the handle.
One second of hesitation.
Then I opened it.
What I saw shocked me completely.
I stood frozen—stunned—unable to process the sight in front of me.
To be continued…
Cliffhanger Hook:
Who—or what—is standing at Rudra's door that could make the unbreakable king freeze in shock?
Author's Note 💔
Hey my broken-hearted readers…
Rudra reliving his past losses, the guilt over his mother and grandmother, the hollow space he's carried since childhood—it hurts to write. The way he's locked away every emotion just to survive… did it make your chest tight? Drop in the comments: Do you think Rudra will ever let someone fill that emptiness, or is he too broken to try?
If this chapter wrecked you (in the best way), smash that ⭐ VOTE, comment "RUDRA DESERVES HEALING" or "WHO IS AT THE DOOR?!", and add to library so you don't miss the moment everything changes.
Next part: The shock at the door… and the party that will force Rudra to face what he's been running from.
Stay with me. This war is about to go public.
Love you all (even when it hurts the most) 🌑
— Your author (still feeling Rudra's hollow ache)
Insta id: priyanshi roy 9.11.9