No matter how much Rudraksh and Advika wanted to strike back, they couldn't.
Every time they even thought of taking a step, Anay would appear—like an immovable wall standing between them and their target.
And most of the time... he was the one who ended up hurt.
They couldn't even bring themselves to harm him.
Meanwhile, the Sarpanch had locked himself in his room.
Fear had seeped into his bones so deeply that he wouldn't even eat without having a servant taste his food first.
He spent his days cooped up and refused to meet Shrey—he would only talk to Anay.
Many times, he tried to provoke Anay:
"Anay, that girl shouldn't be left alive... she's cunning. She'll strike again."
But Anay always ignored his words.
Even Shrey was now forbidden from going near the Sarpanch.
So he could do nothing—only watch it all in silence.
He didn't have the courage to lose Anay by confronting him outright.
And now... Holi was approaching.
The haveli had been shrouded in a dark, cursed silence for a long time,
But Thakurain had made up her mind—this Holi, she would bring happiness back.
She wanted to paint every corner of the house with love.
Preparations began: clothes, sweets, colored powder, drums, and the dahi handi—it was all being organized, just like old times.
Anay had invited a few important guests. He personally didn't care much, but if Thakurain wished it, he had to respect that
From early morning, the haveli was alive—
The beat of the drums, the fragrance of sweets, and the scent of fresh gulal filled the air.
Thakurain was busy in rituals. Dressed in a red Banarasi sari, she looked radiant. The jasmine garland in her hair added to her beauty.
Moli was seated beside her—
Today, she wore a white Anarkali dress with a rainbow-colored dupatta.
She looked more vibrant than usual. Her hair flowed freely, and every time the wind touched her strands, it felt like the weather itself was smiling at her.
Shrey had gone out for some work, but as soon as he returned and saw Moli—
He froze.
His eyes refused to blink, and his heartbeat suddenly sped up.
Something within him had begun to shift.
"Aarti…" Thakurain held the plate out in front of him.
"Huh?" Shrey jolted.
"Aarti, dear... where are you lost?"
"Oh…" He quickly took the aarti,
but his gaze was again drawn toward Moli, who was arranging color plates behind them.
"Where's Anay?" Thakurain asked.
"Probably still sleeping, Aunty… I'll wake him."
He turned to go, then paused midway and turned back to Moli.
"Hey, girl…"
"Yes, sir?" she replied softly.
"Umm… well…"
Shrey hesitated.
Moli looked into his eyes and asked,
"Do you need something?"
For the first time, Shrey really looked at her—
She had lost in her eyes today, and something about her pulled him in.
Without saying a word, he took a fistful of gulal,
and in one quick move, smeared it across her cheeks.
He leaned in and whispered,
"Happy Holi, girl…"
Before Moli could even react, Shrey had already walked inside.
Moli stood frozen. Her heartbeat raced.
She had never imagined such a gesture from Shrey—not even in her wildest dreams.
She gently touched her cheeks where the color now rested, still in disbelief.
"Oh my... you're already colored!"
One of the servants joked as she saw Moli smiling with colored cheeks.
Moli fumbled, then replied with a slight stammer,
"Yeah… I just really love Holi…"
Her voice trembled slightly—she was still trying to regain composure.
It all felt like a dream—
Shrey smearing color, those words... that moment...
Her heart was still stuck in it.
"Come now, we have gujiyas to make. If you keep smiling like this, when will the work get done?"
The servant chided playfully.
"And clean that color off first—don't let it fall into the food!"
Moli nodded quietly, and used her dupatta to wipe her cheeks.
But though the color vanished from her skin, it didn't fade from her heart.
She folded that dupatta neatly and placed it in a safe corner.
As she tucked it away, she smiled—
That moment… that touch… it lingered.
Outside Anay's room, Shrey steadied his breath and entered.
"Well well... the child of Kumbhkaran is waking up early these days."
Shrey joked, seeing Anay standing in the balcony.
Anay cast him a cold glance and turned away.
Shrey walked up, embraced him lightly, and said,
"Happy Holi, brother... Let's forget everything today and play like we did as kids. I really miss those times…"
But Anay stayed silent.
"Anay… are you upset?"
Shrey gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
Anay's voice was calm and firm:
"You sided with that Rajvansh…?"
Something stirred in Shrey's chest.
The very thing he feared had come true.
Anay knew everything—about the Sarpanch's kidnapping and Shrey's involvement.
He didn't accuse without proof—so if he was asking, it meant he already knew... just wanted to hear it from Shrey's mouth.
"Anay… I…"
Shrey stumbled on his words.
"We considered you a friend... and you betrayed us?"
Anay's tone was sharp, eyes burning.
Shrey looked up into Anay's eyes—dark circles under them, a dull face, red eyes—he hadn't slept a wink.
Something broke inside Shrey.
He had done all this for him, yet he was the one suffering.
"Listen to me, Anay… there are things you don't know…"
Shrey's voice cracked—he was scared now, scared of losing him.
"I know everything."
Anay's gaze remained fixed outside.
Shrey's heart shook.
"What exactly do you know…?"
Anay turned to face him and said:
"Leave. I don't even want to see you."
"Anay… tell me what you know first…"
Shrey was almost begging.
"I said leave... or I won't be able to control myself."
Tears welled up in Shrey's eyes.
"Then hit me… I wouldn't mind dying by your hands.
I've taken your blows since childhood—never once complained.
I still won't.
You're my friend... my brother…"
Anay's face turned to stone.
"A brother doesn't betray his own blood."
And that one sentence shattered Shrey completely.