Chapter 5: Unspoken Bonds

Rudra sat in his office chair, one hand flipping a pen absentmindedly, his gaze fixed out of the tall glass window.
The meeting files were still open on his desk, but his mind wasn’t on them.

A soft knock came on the door.
Without looking, Rudra said, "Come in."

When he finally glanced up, his face softened instantly.

It was his mother,” Usha Jain”

Dressed simply in an elegant pastel saree, she entered with a small, gentle smile.
There was something about her presence — quiet, steady — that broke through even the cold walls Rudra had built around himself.

He stood up immediately, walking to her in two quick steps.
Without a word, he hugged her — firm but careful, like she was something fragile he needed to protect.

For a few seconds, they just stayed like that.

Then she pulled back slightly, cupping his cheek.

She looked at him with a half-smile, half-scold in her eyes.

"Ma se milne nahi aaya na ek bhi baar in 15 din mein..."
She shook her head lightly, pretending to be angry.

He didn’t argue.

Didn’t give excuses.

Just nodded once — deeply, respectfully.

Somewhere, deep inside, he knew she never really needed an apology.

"Kaisa hai tu...", she added, her voice soft, almost longing for her son.

"Main theek hoon, Mom", he said quietly, almost reassuring her.

She checked her behind and then whisper.

“Mom nahi , Maa….”

He smiled …
“maa….”

A faint smile touched her lips, and she patted his chest lightly, exactly where his heart beat steadily beneath.

Just then, the door opened —
and he walked in.

Rudra's smile faded instantly, his body stiffened.
The easy warmth he had with his mother disappeared like smoke in the air.

His father stepped inside, that usual air of authority around him, like he owned every room he entered.
Their eyes met — sharp, cold, unreadable.

There was no anger.

No shouting.
Just a heavy silence between two people who had long forgotten how to be family.

"Mr. Jain”, Rudra said stiffly, a formal nod.

No Dad!

No Papa!

His father gave a small nod back, as if that was enough.
As if that was all that remained between them now.

His mother looked between them, her heart aching, but she said nothing.
They both stood there, stiff, holding back years of buried anger — all for her sake.
Pretending.

Acting.

Finally, his mother stood up to leave, gently squeezing Rudra’s arm.
"Take care, beta," she said softly.
He kissed her forehead, murmured, "Always, Mom."

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her —
the mask fell.

Rudra’s eyes turned cold.
Not just cold.

Icy.

Deadly.

Ram Jain — his father — shifted slightly, sensing it.
But he still stepped forward, his voice calm, heavy with that same controlling authority.

"You need to listen, Rudra. What you’re doing with the exports—"

Before he could finish —
CRASH!

Rudra grabbed the heavy leather chair beside him and hurled it straight at the center table.

The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, the sound slicing through the office like a scream.

Silence.

Rudra turned, his chest heaving, his voice a sharp growl full of raw fury:
"Don’t you fucking dare meddle in my business.

Not now.

Not ever."

He took a step closer, eyes burning:
"Aur apne un kutto se keh dena... door rahein….Is baar sirf taange todi hain... agli baar—"
He left the sentence hanging, the threat loud and clear.

"You can’t talk to me like this... Are you some gunda or what, ha?" his father snapped, losing his calm.

Rudra chuckled darkly, the sound chilling:
"Abhi toh aapne dekha hi kahan hai, Mr. Jain...ki main kya hoon."

"Rudra—",  his father started.

"Shhh... not a single word," Rudra hissed, cutting him off, staring straight into his eyes.

He moved even closer, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper:
"You built an empire on fear and betrayal," Rudra said, low and lethal.
"But me? I’m building mine on hard work, trust, loyalty... and blood too, if I have to."

Their gazes locked —Rudra smirked — that cold, ruthless smirk —
and without another word, turned and walked out…leaving behind shattered glass...

The door clicked shut behind him.
And for the first time in years, Ram Jain felt a chill run down his spine.

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Rudra grabbed his car keys and stormed out, the rage humming just beneath his skin.

He needed air.

No... he needed her.

Roshni.

But he can’t go to her,,,,it will be to early…

So he went to one place she often goes…

Rudra stepped out of the car, the sea breeze slapping his face, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside him.

cigarette dangling between his fingers, every day of last week replaying in her mind…

her every moments ,,pictures of every night,,,her

The way she’d looked at him that day near her college — when their eyes locked for that brief moment — something shifted.

But it wasn’t just one moment.

It was every stolen glance, every time he’d seen her turn away quickly as if she didn’t want to be seen, yet secretly hoped to be caught by him.

Rudra had even started showing up at the tea stall near her college,

at the temple close to her campus — places he knew she’d visit.

He wasn’t stalking, not really.

And even if he is…

Does he care…

No f*cking hell…

He just wanted to be near her, even if she never knew he was there.

A glance,

a smile,

even if she never acknowledged him — he was there, lurking in the shadows, watching.

And every time she’d pass by, there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a spark of something more, before she’d look away.

It pissed him off.

But it also… intrigued him.

He will wait outside her college for hours, just hoping for a glimpse, a brief second where their eyes would meet.

And when they did, when their gazes finally locked, it felt like a damn explosion.

His heart would race, and everything else would fade.

But she’d always look away first, always pulling back, like she was hiding something.

It frustrated him,

but it also made him want more.

“What is going on inside that pretty mind of yours, Roshni?”

Every day, he chased after her in little ways, always lingering, always watching,

Look what he has become

a stalker,

a lovesick puppy,

a lost lover,

Never sure if he was getting closer or if she was just slipping further away.

But then, why wasn’t he doing anything? …

He didn’t want to lose his patience... not with her.

His cigarette burned between his fingers as he exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

Why did she keep running?

Rudra flicked the cigarette away, his jaw tightening.

He couldn’t keep doing this.

He couldn’t keep waiting,

Enough of being her “Good Boy” Now!!!

 “What you thought Roshni madam, you can stay away from me….

I told you already…some things aren’t meant to be left behind once found"

“Enough of this hide-and-seek crap now...

you are mine,

and you have to behave like one.”

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The next day, a Friday,

Rudra woke with a knowing smile, one that curled on his lips like a silent promise.

His mind was sharp, and his thoughts colder than the morning air that rushed through his open window.

He sat up slowly, the sheets still tangled around him, as his eyes narrowed with a deliberate calm.

His muscular frame moved with precision as he stood up, the muscles in his chest and arms flexing effortlessly beneath his olive skin.

His six-pack abs tightened with every shift, his V-line traced down to his night trouser, the subtle curve of it

- a testament to his discipline and dedication

- a reminder of the strength he commanded

— both physically and mentally.

He raised the cup of black coffee to his lips, the steam swirling upwards in delicate tendrils before dissipating into the cool morning air.

The bitter warmth of the drink matched the tension brewing within him.

He didn’t go after her today, not in the morning like he had every other day.

Today, he decided to let her breathe, to think she had a chance to escape.

But he knew better.

He had waited long enough, watched her from afar, let her run, let her think she could escape.

But today, he was done with that.

“You think you’re in control, Roshni?” he murmured to himself, his voice low and dangerous.

“You think you can keep running?”

“Now it was time to take control back my love.”

A laugh, dark and filled with anticipate on, left his lips.

He leaned back in his chair, letting the thought linger in the air.

“You can’t hide from me. Not anymore.”

He could picture it:

her eyes wide,

her heart racing,

that mix of fear and desire that had been dancing just beneath the surface for days.

She was already his; she just didn’t know it yet.

His fingers brushed against the cool screen of his phone, hovering over her contact—her number, the one she had no idea he possessed.

"Today, I will make you look at me.
I will make you talk to me.
Agar pyaar se maan gayi toh achha hai,
Varna..."

[If you agree with love, it’s good,
Otherwise..."]