Chapter 31: "A Demon's Wrath: The Price of Sin"

Mumbai – Club

Haya glared at those men with pure rage, her fingers trembling as shards of glass dug into her skin, drawing thin lines of blood. The pain, however, was the least of her worries. Right now, her only concern was getting out of this hellhole—escaping from these monsters at any cost. She couldn't let them have their way with her. She had to fight.

Frantically, she looked around, trying to find an escape, some way to break free, but before she could act, the three men grabbed her, forcefully tying her hands behind her back. One of them, his eyes filled with anger, raised his hand and slapped her across the face. The impact was brutal, sending a sharp sting across her cheek. Haya's head snapped to the side, her breath hitching in pain. But she wasn't the kind of girl who would go down without a fight. Clenching her jaw, she lifted her knee with all the strength she could muster and slammed it between the legs of the man who had struck her.

A guttural cry tore through the air as the man stumbled backward, clutching himself in agony. But before she could do anything else, another one of them retaliated, his palm colliding with her cheek once more—this time, even harder. Haya tasted blood, her lower lip splitting open as she staggered, her body trembling from both fear and fury.

"Stay away from me!" she spat out, her voice quivering yet defiant.

But her plea fell on deaf ears. The men merely smirked at her helplessness, their cruel eyes undressing her inch by inch. One of them, the apparent leader, stepped closer, his gaze dark and predatory.

"What if we kill you right here, huh?" he sneered, tilting his head. "Who would even know that a sweet, innocent girl like you ever stepped foot in this club? Who would care if you simply disappeared, only to become someone's midnight feast?"

His words sent a shiver down her spine, bile rising in her throat. Disgust and terror coiled around her like an iron grip.

Haya's body tensed as another man reached out and violently tore her gown apart. The fabric ripped mercilessly, leaving her exposed in nothing but her undergarments. Her breath hitched. A raw, chilling fear crawled beneath her skin as she instinctively tried to cover herself, but with her hands tied, she had no way to shield her dignity.

She felt utterly helpless.

For the first time, her mind went numb. Her body trembled, her vision blurred, and a strange acceptance settled over her. There was no way out. No escape. No savior.

Her strength faded.

She let her body go limp, her muscles relaxing as if surrendering to her fate. She closed her eyes, swallowing hard, pretending to accept her doom.

And the moment they sensed her resistance fading, their cruel smirks widened in sick pleasure. They inched closer, their fingers reaching out for her trembling lips.

One of them leaned down, about to claim her lips—

BANG!

A deafening crash shattered the thick air.

The door burst open with violent force, slamming against the wall.

A cold, deathly silence followed.

And then—

A storm stood at the threshold.

Rudraksh.

His icy gaze swept over the scene before him, his eyes dark and unreadable, his presence lethal and unforgiving. A terrifying aura radiated from him, making the air itself tremble in fear.

His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists.

The devil had arrived.

The smirk that Rudraksh had worn as he entered the room vanished in an instant. His expression turned dangerously cold, his eyes darkening with something lethal. The eerie silence that followed his arrival was suffocating, thick with the weight of something deadly.

Haya, unaware of his presence, kept her eyes shut, still caught in the haze of fear and despair. The men holding her had loosened their grip, sensing something was off, but she remained lost in the same whispered plea—her lips trembling as she repeated the only words left in her fading strength.

"Let me go... please, let me go..."

Then—

A voice.

A barely audible whisper, yet enough to shatter the suffocating stillness.

"Ma'am..."

It was Max.

At the sound of that single word, something inside Haya stirred. Her breath hitched. The familiar voice cut through her fog of helplessness like a blade, and her eyes fluttered open.

And then—she saw him.

Rudraksh.

Their eyes locked.

For the first time, Haya's gaze wasn't sharp, wasn't filled with fire or defiance. There was something else in her eyes tonight—something she had never allowed to surface before. Vulnerability. A silent, desperate plea. A cry that never left her lips but screamed through her gaze.

Rudraksh had always known her to be fierce—bold enough to meet his gaze without a hint of submission. She was the kind of woman who silenced him with just a look, a woman whose eyes never wavered, whose confidence never faltered.

But tonight—tonight, she looked different.

There was no challenge in her eyes. No rebellion.

No spark.

Just emptiness.

And Rudraksh—he couldn't bear to look.

For the first time, he had to turn away, his jaw clenching, his fists tightening so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Then—

The moment those men slackened their hold on her, Haya moved.

In a blur, she rushed toward Rudraksh, crashing into him, her trembling arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Her body shook uncontrollably, her fingers digging into him as though afraid he'd disappear. She clung to him with everything she had, as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had just tried to shatter her.

And Rudraksh—he felt it.

He felt every shiver racking her fragile frame.

He felt the way her body trembled against his like a leaf caught in a raging storm.

And something inside him snapped.

His vision blurred with red.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his veins bulging beneath his skin. His breath turned sharp and ragged, his entire body vibrating with unrestrained fury. His temples throbbed, his heartbeat a deafening roar in his ears.

Whatever hatred existed between them—whatever twisted relationship they shared—it didn't matter.

Because at the end of the day, she was a woman.

And what had just happened to her—what those men had tried to do—deserved only one punishment.

Death.

But beyond that—beyond everything else—

She was his wife.

No matter how much he denied it, no matter what kind of war raged between them, the truth remained unchanged.

She. Was. His.

His responsibility. His pride. His honor.

And tonight, standing there with his wife's broken body trembling in his arms, Rudraksh knew one thing for certain—

Someone was going to die.

The only sound in the room was the sharp, uneven breaths of Haya. No one else dared to speak.

The four men standing in front of Rudraksh had already realized the terrifying truth—death stood before them. And it had a name. Rudraksh.

They had crossed a line they shouldn't have, touched someone they never should have. And now, they were staring at their own graves.

Yet, it wasn't his rage that scared them the most—it was his silence.

The absence of words.

The eerie, suffocating stillness before the storm.

Rudraksh's arms tightened around Haya's waist, holding her against him, his grip firm yet careful. She was still trembling, still buried in his warmth, as if she wanted to disappear inside him completely. If she could, she would have.

But Rudraksh—his mind was unreadable. A dark abyss of thoughts no one could decipher.

A moment later, he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around Haya's shivering body. His fingers lingered on the fabric for a second before he gently pushed her away.

Then, in a cold, controlled voice, he said, "Max, take Haya to the car. I'll be there soon."

Max, who had been frozen in place, immediately lowered his head and responded like an obedient soldier. "Ma'am, shall we?"

But before Max could take a step, Haya's hand shot out, gripping Rudraksh's wrist with all the strength she had left.

"N-No... no, Rudraksh, please. I don't want to go. I won't go anywhere," she whispered, her voice weak, her head bowed.

At that moment, something in Rudraksh snapped.

His fingers closed around her chin in a bruising grip, forcing her head up until their eyes met. His jaw was tight, his voice sharp and commanding.

"Look at me when you speak, Haya.

I said, look at me!"

Haya flinched, her breath hitching as she shook her head, refusing.

But Rudraksh wasn't in the mood for defiance. His grip tightened. "Your eyes should never be lowered. Do you understand me?" he growled, his fury barely restrained.

Haya's lips parted, her entire body trembling as she whispered, "I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay with—"

Before she could finish, Rudraksh cut her off with a sharp, furious command.

"Max, take her. Now."

Max hesitated for a second, his gaze flickering between them. But when Rudraksh shot him a deadly look, he obeyed.

Haya stiffened as Max took a step toward her, but this time, she didn't resist. Her feet moved on their own, carrying her toward the exit. She didn't look back—not once.

And the moment she disappeared through the door, the temperature in the room dropped.

Rudraksh lifted his gaze, his lips curling into a chilling smirk.

A smirk that sent ice-cold terror down the spines of the four men standing before him.

One of them, barely able to control his fear, stammered, "S-Sir, we... we didn't know she was related to you. P-Please... forgive us!"

At his words, Rudraksh chuckled.

A deep, low, terrifying chuckle.

"Oh? So if she wasn't 'related' to me, then what?" His voice was smooth, deceptively calm. "Would that have changed anything? Tell me... what would you have done then?"

The four men furiously shook their heads, their faces pale with dread.

But Rudraksh wasn't satisfied.

His smile vanished. His eyes darkened.

And then, his voice thundered through the room— "WHERE DID YOUR VOICES GO?! I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!"

The walls trembled.

The air turned suffocating.

And as Rudraksh stepped forward, circling them like a predator playing with its prey, the four men knew—

Tonight, they wouldn't leave this room alive.

Max had returned, his face impassive, but in his hands, he held something that sent the remaining color draining from the four men's faces—a cutter.

Rudraksh's cold gaze flickered to the tool, and a slow, chilling smirk tugged at his lips. He then looked at the men before him, trembling and pale, their bodies already betraying their impending doom. Then, his eyes shifted to his bodyguards, standing like silent reapers, waiting for their master's command.

With just one glance from Rudraksh, the bodyguards moved, seizing the four men effortlessly. They didn't fight. They couldn't.

Rudraksh took slow, deliberate steps toward one of them, his voice eerily calm.

"These hands... these very hands touched her, didn't they?"

His fingers ghosted over the man's trembling hands, and then—

RIP.

With a single swift motion, the cutter slashed through the man's shirt, the fabric falling in pieces to the floor.

Rudraksh turned, settling into a chair, his posture relaxed. "Start," he ordered.

The guards needed no further instructions.

One of them took the cutter from Rudraksh's hands, and within moments, the man's skin was being peeled away like fruit.

His screams echoed within the walls, but they never left the room.

They belonged to Rudraksh now.

He watched, unaffected, unbothered—his eyes holding nothing but satisfaction.

"She screamed too, didn't she?" Rudraksh mused, his tone casual. "She must have begged you to let her go... just like you're begging me now."

The room filled with desperate pleas, their voices cracking under terror. But Rudraksh—he was a living nightmare.

He thrived in their agony.

Once their skin was shredded, another guard stepped forward, holding something sharp. Rudraksh, in no hurry, lit a cigarette and exhaled, his lips curling in amusement.

"Go on."

The moment the command left his lips, the sharp object was plunged into their eyes—one by one.

The screaming turned to gurgled wails.

One of them collapsed—dead. The others writhed in unbearable agony, clutching at their faces, but they were past saving now.

Still, Rudraksh wasn't done.

"I wanted all four wickets to fall," he murmured, exhaling another cloud of smoke. "So far, only one is down."

Another guard stepped forward, this time wielding a sword.

In mere seconds, the remaining three lost their hands.

Another body dropped.

Now, only two remained—barely alive, their suffering stretching beyond the imaginable.

Rudraksh rose from his seat, dusting off his coat, his voice colder than ice.

"Throw them into boiling acid. Clean this mess up."

With that final command, he turned on his heel, walking toward the door.

Then, as if remembering something, he halted, glancing over his shoulder—his expression unreadable.

"She was my wife."

His voice was filled with something dangerous, something that made even his own men shiver.

And then—he was gone.

As the guards processed the massacre that had just unfolded, one of the newer recruits shakily rubbed his face, his hands trembling.

"What... what happened to Sir?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Such cruelty... I've never seen anything like this in my life."

His horror-stricken eyes darted to the bodies—some lifeless, some still twitching. The scene before him was worse than any nightmare.

Max, however, remained unfazed. He gave the recruit a sharp look, his tone void of emotion.

"Didn't you hear Sir's orders? Throw them in the acid. Now."

His voice held no room for argument.

And with that, Max, too, stepped out.

Meanwhile, outside, Haya sat in the car, her hands clenched together, her breath shallow.

Something inside her felt wrong.

She was safe, she knew that—but the air around her was thick with something dark. Her body refused to relax.

And then—

She saw him.

Rudraksh.

His figure emerged from the shadows, walking toward her with a deadly calmness. His face was unreadable, but his aura... it was suffocating.

As he got closer, the dim lighting caught his face—his sharp features, his intense eyes, his cold smirk.

But Haya's gaze was drawn elsewhere.

To his hands.

Hands that were stained with blood.

"Will Rudraksh be able to handle Haya, or will his rage destroy everything?"

"Find out in The Devil's Sweet Sin!"