Chapter-50

Author's POV,

Next Day,

The sterile hallway felt even more suffocating as Rudra and Veer huddled outside Pihu's room. Muffled voices from within, a stark contrast to the tense silence between the two men. Business, a constant specter, loomed over their fragile truce.

Veer, his voice etched with a hint of apprehension, brought up the simmering issue. "Shaurya. What's the play with him? A week cooped up, barely a morsel of food or a drop to drink. He won't last much longer."

Rudra's face contorted at the mention of the name. His jaw clenched, a muscle flickering in his temple. A storm of emotions warred within him - raw fury, a primal urge for vengeance, and a cold, calculating desire to make Shaurya pay. But then, like a soothing balm on a raging fire, the image of Pihu surfaced in his mind. Her vulnerability, the sliver of trust she'd offered, all threatened by the fallout of his actions.

Drawing in a ragged breath, Rudra forced his voice into a semblance of calm. "Release him," he rasped, the words laced with a controlled fury. "But make it look official. Fabricate some incompetence charge, anything to justify his permanent suspension."

Veer raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. A beat of heavy silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken questions. Finally, Veer spoke, his voice low and filled with worry. "Pihu won't be happy, Rudra. You know that. She..."

Rudra cut him off, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "She will not know about this. And do as I said. Make sure he never comes in front of Pihu again. He must pay the price of trying to take away what's mine and on top of that putting her life in danger."

With a resigned sigh, Veer conceded. "Alright, Rudra. We'll handle his release and termination."

A heavy silence descended upon them. Veer studied Rudra, a mix of apprehension and grudging respect in his gaze. He had witnessed the lengths to which Rudra could go when vengeance consumed him. Yet, here he was, tempering his rage for a reason far more powerful – the unspoken hope of Pihu's acceptance.

The conversation shifted, moving on to more pressing matters. "Yashvardhan," Veer said, consulting his notes. "Our sources found him in Italy. Apparently, he's losing his mind over Rudraansh's disappearance."

A smirk played on Rudra's lips. "Keep him on a tight leash. Don't let him slip out of sight again. It's time to settle this score once and for all."

Veer nodded in agreement. "One more thing, Rudra. Remember the annual mafia meeting next month? You can't afford to miss it."

Rudra's face fell, annoyance flickering across his features. "Veer, you know I can't leave Pihu right now. She needs me."

Veer sighed, unsurprised by the answer. "But till then she will be alright to take care of herself and the meeting is crucial. Missing this meeting would give Matteo Ricci the perfect opportunity to take you down. We can't afford that. But, there's another complication. This year's meeting is in Italy, and with both Matteo and Yashvardhan there... well, let's just say an attack is highly likely."

Rudra listened to Veer's reasoning, his mind already racing with plans. His eyes gleamed with a fierce determination. Italy was not just a battleground; it was an opportunity, a chance to bring Matteo Ricci and Yashvardhan Sinha to their knees. His mind was already crafting a plan, a meticulous strategy to strike at the heart of his enemies and emerge victorious.

Suddenly, a sharp CRASH! shattered the tense silence hanging between Rudra and Veer. It erupted from Pihu's room, a discordant note in the sterile symphony of the hospital hallway. In a heartbeat, both men were at the door, flinging it open with a violence that sent it slamming against the wall.

The picture that greeted them was a tableau of frustration and helplessness. Pihu lay propped on one elbow, her face flushed with exertion and a grimace of pain contorting her features. On the floor, a shattered glass lay in a glistening pool of water, shards reflecting the stark overhead light. Beside the bedside table, a vase teetered precariously, its remaining contents threatening to join the watery mess below.

"Pihu!" Rudra roared, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and anger. He rushed to her side, his large form dwarfing the frail figure on the bed.

Veer's eyes darted between the broken glass, the precariously balanced vase, and Pihu's strained posture. Understanding dawned on him. Pihu, likely frustrated by her limitations and the indignity of needing assistance, had overreached for the glass, causing the entire thing to come crashing down.

Kneeling beside the bed, Rudra reached out to gently cup Pihu's face. "It's alright, Pearl," he soothed, his voice softer than Veer had ever heard him speak after they entered this dangerous world. "I told you to call me if you need anything. I told you before, even if I'm not right here, I'm always nearby. You just need to call." His gaze softened further, reflecting the helplessness he felt in seeing her struggle. "I also told you that if I need to leave for some reason for a short while, then I always leave a nurse for you to help."

"Here, let me help you drink some water." Rudra retrieved a fresh glass, his movements careful yet practiced. He filled the glass and held it gently to Pihu's lips, his eyes filled with a concern that surprised even Veer.

Veer watched in stunned silence. The tenderness in Rudra's gaze, the way his calloused hand cradled Pihu's face – it was a side of his friend he hadn't witnessed in years. A sliver of the old Rudra, the one driven by protectiveness rather than vengeance, seemed to peek through the hardened shell. He also saw a flicker of hope blossom between Rudra and Pihu, a chance to mend their fractured relationship.

Pihu, soothed by the cool water, noticed the other presence in the room. A small smile graced her lips as she whispered, "Veer bhai."

Veer's train of thought was broken, but in a welcome way. He came closer to the bed. Rudra rose from his seat beside Pihu, silently offering his space, and moved towards a chair near the window to sit.

A wry smile played on Veer's lips as he approached the bed. "Seems like you've caused quite a stir, Pihu," he said gently, his voice devoid of any judgment.

Pihu winced slightly, a reminder of the limitations her injury imposed. "I, uh, I didn't mean to cause any trouble," she stammered, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering pain. "Just needed some water, that's all. Sorry about the mess."

Veer waved a dismissive hand. "No need for apologies, Cupcake. How are you feeling?

"Much better, thank you," Pihu replied.

They talked for a short while, a gentle conversation filled with concern and lighthearted teasing. Rudra, who had moved to a chair near the window, remained silent. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on Pihu, a silent language passing between them. Unlike the usual intensity in his eyes, this time, they held a depth of love and peace that didn't go unnoticed by Veer.

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Pihu's POV,

Trapped in a world of sterile white, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor mocked the silence in my head. Each beep a reminder of my fragile existence, a stark contrast to the vibrant life I once knew. The days bled into one another, a monotonous blur of medication, weakness, and a crushing sense of isolation. I clutched the well-worn novel, the words swimming before my eyes despite my desperate attempts to lose myself in its pages.

Rudra never left. He sat across from me at a messy desk, buried in papers. Now, fatigue etched lines on his face, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to nights spent on the uncomfortable hospital couch. I also noticed the way he pushed away untouched meals, a stark contrast to his usual healthy appetite. A pang of worry, unwelcome and unexpected, twisted in my gut.

It was weird how different he seemed. Before, he was all cold and calculating, the scary mafia boss. Now, his words, laced with a surprising sincerity, echoed in my mind. Could this truly be the same Rudra? The man who had orchestrated my abduction, forced me into marriage, held me captive?

At first, I thought it was all an act, a trick to get me to trust him. But days turned into weeks, and he never went back to his old ways. His voice, once curt and demanding, softened as he spoke to me. Even when I got stubborn or threw a fit, he stayed calm and patient. His voice, once a weapon used to control, had softened into a soothing balm, calming my anxieties. His eyes even seemed warm when he looked at me.

The whole thing scared me and made me curious at the same time. Was it possible? Could the darkness that consumed him still hold a flicker of humanity? Could the monster he became possess even a sliver of care? It felt dangerous to even think about him differently. Yet, the way his gaze lingered a touch too long, the way his hand rested a fraction of a second too long when adjusting the sheets – it all whispered a story. A story of a man wrestling with his past, a man struggling to reconcile the monster with whatever humanity might remain.

Forgiving him and forgetting what he did feels impossible – forgiveness is a long process. The pain he caused me and my loved ones is real. But I can't ignore the effort he's putting in to keep his promise of changing. A part of me wanted to shut him out completely, but another part couldn't deny the flicker of... what was it exactly? Hope? Trust? forgiveness? It was a confusing mess.

This whole situation was nothing like the relationship of captor and captive we once shared. Gone was the cold, calculating mafia king. In his place stood a man burdened by a past he couldn't escape, a man desperate to atone for his sins. The worry lines on his face, so different from his usual tough look, slowly chipped away at the walls I'd built around my heart, little by little.

A sigh escaped my lips, a wispy sound lost in the sterile hum of the machines. Pushing the tangled mess of emotions aside for now, I closed my eyes. Time, perhaps, would offer the clarity I desperately craved.

Author's POV,

The soft sigh that escaped Pihu's lips snagged at Rudra's attention. He glanced up from the paperwork littering his desk, his brow furrowing in concern. " Pearl, Is something wrong?" His question, laced with concern, was enough to burst the dam of frustration within her.

Pihu open her eyes and met his gaze with a flicker of annoyance. "Can't I just sigh in peace now?" she retorted, her voice laced with a hint of frustration that surprised even her. It wasn't directed at him, not entirely. It was the culmination of days spent trapped within these sterile walls, the monotony gnawing at her spirit.

Rudra's hand paused over his paperwork, his expression softening with understanding. "Of course," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I apologize, Pearl. I just thought... if you're tired or in pain, you might need help."

Pihu sighed again, a heavier exhale this time, ruffling the sterile sheets around her. "No, I'm not tired or in pain," she said, her voice quieter now.

It was a lie. The pain was a constant companion, a dull ache that lurked beneath the surface, kept at bay by a cocktail of medication. Even the slightest movement sent a jolt of protest through her body. She tried to control it, and asked further with a questioning look, "When are we leaving this place? Don't you said we can leave after two weeks?"

A flicker of unease crossed Rudra's face at Pihu's question. He steepled his fingers, his gaze flitting away from hers for a moment. "Leaving this place," he began cautiously, "well, the doctor wants to monitor you for a bit longer."

Pihu's brow furrowed. "A bit longer? Monitor me? For what? What are you hiding?" Her voice held a tremor of frustration that tugged at his conscience.

He forced a smile, a tight one that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm not hiding anything. It's just the doctor thinks it's best for you to stay here for a bit longer. They want to monitor your progress more closely."

Rudra's mind flashed back to the conversation with the doctor two days before.

Flashback starts,

The harsh fluorescent lights of the doctor's office seemed to pulsate with a new intensity as Rudra sat across from him. The sterile atmosphere, usually a comfort, now felt suffocating. The silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic tick of the wall clock. Finally, the doctor cleared his throat, his expression grim.

"Rudra," he began, his voice heavy, "I need to talk to you about Pihu's latest test results."

Rudra's heart lurched. Pihu's surgery, the one to remove the bullet that nicked her spine, had been a success, or so they thought. Relief had washed over him like a tidal wave, leaving him drained but hopeful. Now, a knot of dread formed in his stomach.

"What is it, doc?" Rudra forced the words out, his voice barely a whisper.

The doctor steepled his fingers, his gaze fixed on the reports spread across his desk. "During the surgery, everything went smoothly. We were able to remove the bullet without any complications. However," he paused, letting the word hang heavy in the air, "the post-operative tests reveal some underlying nerve damage."

Rudra's breath hitched. Nerve damage? How could it be?

"It's minimal," the doctor continued, sensing Rudra's panic. "We caught it early, which is fortunate. With proper medication and complete rest, the damage should be reversible."

But the next words sent a cold shiver down Rudra's spine. "However, any stress or excessive movement could exacerbate the condition. In the worst-case scenario..." the doctor trailed off, leaving the unspoken possibility hanging in the air.

Rudra understood. Paralysis. The very word sent a tremor through him. He couldn't imagine Pearl, his firecracker Pihu, confined to a wheelchair.

"How long does she need to stay here?" Rudra managed to ask, his voice hoarse.

"For now," the doctor said, "complete bed rest is crucial. We'll monitor her progress closely and adjust the medication as needed. It won't be a quick recovery, Rudra, but with time and proper care..."

The doctor's words faded into a background hum as Rudra absorbed the gravity of the situation.

Flashback ends.

Rudra surfaced from his thoughts with a jolt, yanked back to the present by the raw frustration crackling in Pihu's voice. "Monitor what?" she demanded, her words laced with a tremor that betrayed the simmering anger beneath as she glared at him. "They're already monitoring everything here, Rudra! Every twitch, every heartbeat. It's suffocating!"

Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill. The sterile whiteness of the room seemed to press in on her, mirroring the weight of confinement on her chest. "I can't stay here any longer," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. "You promised two weeks, and now you're changing the rules?"

Rudra felt a surge of anger rise within him, a primal reaction fueled by her accusations and his own helplessness. "These aren't 'rules,' Pihu!" he snapped, his voice tight with controlled fury. "This is about your health!"

But the anger quickly dissipated, replaced by a pang of guilt as he saw the hurt flicker across Pihu's face. "My health?" she echoed, her voice trembling. "If it's about my health, then why can't I recover at your place? I know you can arrange everything I need. You have the power, the money..."

Her voice trailed off, a flicker of hope battling with the suspicion brewing in her eyes. A muscle twitched in Rudra's jaw. The doctor's warnings echoed in his mind, a chilling reminder of the truth he couldn't reveal. But seeing the steely resolve harden Pihu's gaze, a chilling echo of his own ruthless past, a flicker of fear sparked within him.

"Absolutely not," he said, his voice low and firm, yet devoid of the gentleness he'd strived to show her lately. The mask of control he'd worn was slipping, revealing the hardened leader beneath. "The doctor's orders are clear. You stay here until he says otherwise."

Pihu flinched, not from his words, but from the coldness that seeped back into them. The flicker of trust, the fragile bridge she'd begun to build between them, crumbled to dust. All she saw now was the ruthless man who had orchestrated her abduction, the man who held her captive.

"Why?" she whispered, the fight draining out of her voice, replaced by a deep, hollow ache. "Why do you want me locked up here? Why won't you tell me anything?"

Rudra's face remained impassive, a mask hiding the turmoil within. "There's nothing to tell you," he lied, his voice strained. "I just want you to get better."

But Pihu's anger, fueled by hurt and suspicion, burned hotter than ever. With a defiant cry, she ripped the IV needle out of her hand, ignoring the sting of the withdrawal. It was a reckless act, born of desperation and a misplaced sense of control.

Rudra's eyes widened in shock. He lunged for her, catching her wrist just before she attempted to swing her legs over the side of the bed.

"Pihu! What are you doing?" he roared, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and fear.

"If you won't help me leave and tell me the truth," she spat, her voice tight with a blend of fury and tears, "then I'll leave myself!"

Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, Pihu ignored the throbbing pain radiating from her unused muscles and tried to push herself out of bed. Rudra's grip tightened on her wrist, his face etched with a steely resolve.

"Don't be stupid, Pihu! You'll hurt yourself worse!"

But Pihu was beyond reason, consumed by a desperate need to escape the suffocating walls and the man who held her secrets hostage. "I don't care!" she screamed, her voice raw with emotion. "I just can't stay here any..."

The world tilted on its axis. A wave of dizziness washed over her, stealing her breath and her vision. Before she could finish her sentence, darkness consumed her.

Rudra watched in horror as the fight drained from Pihu's face, replaced by a horrifying pallor. All his anger, all his frustration, melted away, replaced by a primal terror. "Doctor! Nurse!" he roared, his voice thick with panic. The mask had shattered completely, revealing a man on the verge of breaking.

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To be continued.......