Will I Ever Find My Real Lovee

94. Bittersweet relief

Ruhani’s heart pounded, a frantic drum against her ribs.

The predatory gleam in Rakesh’s eyes, the chilling casualness of his confession, and his sinister approach ignited a primal fear she had never known. She had to warn someone.

She had to break free.

"Help! Help! Someone help!" Ruhani screamed, her voice raw with terror, pushing against Rakesh with surprising strength as she tried to make it to the door, to make herself heard beyond the confines of the hidden room.

Rakesh’s eyes narrowed, his casual demeanor instantly replaced by a fierce, ruthless anger.

He moved with lightning speed, his hand clamping roughly over her mouth, cutting off her desperate cries.

Her muffled struggles were futile against his superior strength.

"Quiet, you fool!" Rakesh hissed, his grip bruising. He held her tight with one arm, his other hand reaching into his jacket.

A cold, metallic glint flashed in the dim light as he pulled out a knife.

The blade gleamed menacingly, reflecting the fear in Ruhani’s wide, terrified eyes.

As he raised the knife, his intention chillingly clear, poised to strike, the door to the hidden room suddenly burst open with a resounding CRASH.

Sashwat stood framed in the doorway, his face a mask of grim determination, his eyes blazing with a fierce, protective rage.

He had disregarded his own healing, his own pain, driven by an unerring instinct that Ruhani was in danger.

His gaze instantly took in the horrifying scene: Rakesh, knife raised, Ruhani struggling, his hand clamped over her mouth.

"RAKESH!" Sashwat roared, his voice filled with an almost superhuman fury, a cry that reverberated through the room, cutting through the chilling silence of Rakesh’s impending act.

He lunged forward, a whirlwind of motion, not wasting a single second.

Rakesh, startled by Sashwat’s sudden appearance, momentarily froze. But the maniacal glint in his eyes quickly returned, fueled by a desperate, murderous rage.

His grip on Ruhani tightened, and a cruel, triumphant sneer twisted his lips.

"I won't let your wife live!" Rakesh hissed, his voice venomous, a chilling declaration of his intent.

Without another warning, with a brutal, swift movement, he plunged the knife deep into Ruhani's shoulder.

A blood-curdling scream pierced the air, tearing through the tense silence of the room.

Ruhani's body convulsed, a profound shock radiating through her as pain exploded from her shoulder.

Her legs buckled, but Rakesh held her upright, a perverse satisfaction on his face.

Sashwat’s head was not in control. The sight of Ruhani, screaming, bleeding, stabbed by her own father, by the murderer of his mother, shattered any remaining semblance of his composure.

A primal, uncontrollable rage surged through him, eclipsing everything else. He reached for the gun he had discreetly carried, a heavy, cold weight in his hand.

He didn't hesitate.

He raised the gun and, in a terrifying burst of pure, unadulterated fury, emptied the clip into Rakesh.

The shots cracked through the small room, each bullet finding its mark. Rakesh stumbled, his cruel smile fading into a look of disbelief, then shock, before his body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.