After introducing himself to Vansh, Vihaan stepped outside. His gaze instantly fell on Shaili who was sitting by the poolside, her feet dipped in the water, looking lost and fragile. She was alone, wiping away her tears quietly.

Vihaan glanced around, found no one else there, and walked towards her. His voice came in a low, almost guilty tone from behind.

“I’m sorry.”

Startled, Shaili turned to look at him. The moment she saw him, she quickly stood up, brushing her tears away as if she didn’t want him to see her weakness.

Seeing her like that, something heavy stirred in Vihaan’s chest.

“I’m truly apologizing for my behavior,” he said firmly. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that especially when I didn’t even know the whole truth. I  overreacted. I was hyper. I’m sorry.”

Shaili gave him a faint, weak smile and shook her head softly.

“It’s okay. Anyone in your place would’ve reacted the same way. But trust me… I could never do something like that to Riddhima bhabhi.”

Vihaan didn’t say anything further. Instead, without thinking, he reached out and took her hand in his. Shaili froze, her eyes widening at his unexpected gesture half shocked, half confused.

But before she could say anything, Vihaan pulled out an ointment from his pocket. As he gently applied it to her hand, his voice dropped into a softer register.

“Haldi touched your skin too… you shouldn’t forget to take care of yourself while worrying about everyone else.”

Shaili just smiled faintly at his words, warmth flickering in her heart, but Vihaan didn’t stay any longer. He simply walked away, leaving her staring at his retreating figure

Meanwhile, Vansh stormed straight into Kartik’s room. Without a word, he collapsed onto the bed. Kartik looked at him carefully before asking,

“How’s Riddhima now?”

“She’s fine,” Vansh muttered, his jaw tightening.

When Kartik learned about the incident, his brows furrowed.

“But who the hell would do this?”

Vansh exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, man. But whoever it is, they’re trying to frame me. First those pictures now this chemical in the haldi. It’s going too far.”

Just then, Vansh’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen Ashish Uncle. Without delay, he answered.

“Yes, Uncle?”

Ashish’s voice came urgent, serious.

“I need to see you right now. Come to my room.”

“I’m coming,” Vansh said and got up immediately.

At the same time, in the garden, Ishita was busy posing for her photoshoot when Soumya arrived furiously. She dismissed the photographer with a wave of anger and snapped,

“This was your doing, wasn’t it?”

Ishita’s lips curved into a cold, wicked smile.

“You know me too well, Aunty. And you really thought I’d let Vansh’s haldi touch Riddhima peacefully? She had to face the consequences.”

Soumya sighed heavily, pressing her hand to her forehead.

“At least tell me before you pull such stunts. One day, Ishita, your games will get you killed and you’ll drag me down with you.”

Ishita leaned closer, placing a hand on her shoulder with a sinister calm.

“Relax, Aunty. I always have a backup. And don’t worry Riddhima won’t live long enough to see me fall.”

Vansh reached Ashish’s room. Ashish was already seated on a chair, waiting, his expression deadly serious. Vansh took a seat too and said,

“Yes, Uncle?”

Ashish’s voice carried authority as he spoke,

“Find out who did this. I just want the name. The rest I’ll handle myself.”

Vansh nodded. “Okay.”

Ashish leaned forward, his tone sharper.

“By the way, were you there yesterday… when Riddhima and Mamta aunty had that fight?”

Vansh shook his head. “No. I only heard about it later.”

Ashish narrowed his eyes. “Later, huh?” His voice grew heavier. “Vansh, I’m giving you everything I own. My entire life’s wealth is my daughter and she is now yours. For me, crores mean nothing. If you need money, just say it within ten minutes, I’ll have any amount transferred into your account.”

Vansh frowned, utterly confused. “Uncle, I don’t understand what you mean.”

Ashish’s words cut sharp.

“Wasn’t it dowry Mamta aunty wanted? That’s why Riddhima brought a blank cheque.”

Vansh froze. The word dowry hit him like a slap. For the first time, the weight of his family’s actions hit him fully.

“Dowry ” he muttered bitterly, realizing how wrongly he had judged Riddhima. His chest clenched as guilt clawed at him.

He folded his hands before Ashish.

“Uncle, I’m sorry. On behalf of my family, for everything they said to Riddhima. Please don’t embarrass me by bringing up dowry again. I promise you it’ll never happen from me. Never.”

Outside, Kartik had been restless since morning. He stepped out for some fresh air and sat on a bench in the garden, closing his eyes and letting the cool breeze calm him.

A little distance away, Nitya had been walking, her eyes drifting to him every few minutes. She hesitated, debating whether to approach. Finally, gathering courage, she walked over and spoke softly,

“How are you feeling now?”

Kartik opened his eyes, nodded slightly. “Better.”

She wanted to sit but hesitated when he didn’t say anything. As she turned to leave, Kartik’s voice stopped her.

“If you’re free… you can sit.”

She smiled faintly and sat beside him, keeping a little distance. Silence fell between them—awkward, heavy.

Finally, Kartik broke it. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Nitya replied gently. After a pause, she asked, “No one else from your family came?”

“Mom’s here. Dad was busy, so he couldn’t make it.”

“And… your wife?” Nitya’s question slipped out softly.

The word hit him like a stone. His face darkened instantly, eyes searching hers as if trying to find something he lost years ago.

“I’m not married,” he said flatly.

Then he asked in return, “What about your husband?”

Nitya looked away. “He might come directly for the wedding.”

Both tried to lighten the awkwardness, but the air between them still felt heavy, charged with unspoken words.

Finally, Nitya stood. “I’ll go check on Riddhima.” She left.

Kartik whispered to himself, his gaze following her retreating figure,

“Seven years… and so much has changed between us. Yet you… you’re still the same. Only this smile why doesn’t it reach your eyes anymore?”

His heart twisted as she disappeared from sight. Closing his eyes again

7 years ago today's morning Kartik was already up early and ready. His phone rang—it was Vansh.

“Good morning!” Kartik answered cheerfully.

“Get ready fast. I’m waiting,” Vansh ordered.

“Where are we going?” Kartik asked lazily.

“Don’t tell me you forgot? You’re coming with me to meetings today—as my lawyer.”

Kartik groaned. “No way. I’ve got college today. First day for the freshers—new girls are coming. They need me.”

“Shut up, Kartik! You already have four girlfriends and three situationships. I’ve never seen a bigger flirt than you.”

Kartik smirked. “What can I say? My heart is huge. There’s room for everyone.”

Later, Kartik drove into college with his friends. Just as his car neared the gates, a girl suddenly darted in front of it and knelt down, shielding something with her hand. Kartik hit the brakes hard and stormed out angrily.

“Hey! Do you have a death wish, standing in front of my car?” he yelled.

The girl looked up, moving her hand away—and Kartik went speechless. Her long hair flowed in the wind, framing her innocent face. Big doe-like eyes, long lashes, pink cheeks, and rosy lips glowing under the sunlight—she looked ethereal.

His friend yelled at her “Lost your voice already?”

The girl slowly lifted a small rabbit in her arms and said softly,

“It would’ve died under your car. I was just trying to save it.”

Kartik crouched down to her level, eyes locked on hers.

“And who would’ve saved you, Miss… Kaju Katli?”

She blinked at him, her lips curving into a small smile.

Hume to aap bacha lete na

“(You would’ve saved me, right?”)

Then she stood, dusted off her clothes, and walked away.

“By the way, I’m Nitya. Not Kaju Katli.”

Kartik’s lips curved into the brightest smile

“Nitya… my Kaju Katli,” he whispered to himself, watching her walk away.

His friends shook him out of his trance.

“Bro, get up! Everyone’s watching you.”

Kartik straightened, eyes still fixed on where she had gone.

“Find out everything about her.”

His friend rolled his eyes. “Thousands of girls join college every year. What’s so special about her?”

Kartik smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief and something deeper.

“She just stole my heart. That makes her the most special of them all.”

It was late at night. The whole mansion had gone quiet—everyone tucked away in their rooms.

Rajeshwari quietly pushed open Riddhima’s door. The girl lay still, eyes closed, pretending to sleep.

Rajeshwari sat beside her, gently lifting Riddhima’s head into her lap and running her fingers through her hair.

Her voice softened, “Does it still burn, kiddo?”

Riddhima murmured without opening her eyes, “It’s better now, Mom.”

Rajeshwari’s hand kept moving in slow circles through her daughter’s hair. “Kiddo, tomorrow’s your mehendi, then the sangeet… then the wedding. And after that, you’ll be gone.”

She paused, her voice breaking a little. “So, how long are you planning to stay mad at Aashish? Because after this, you won’t even have time to come see us. You’ll leave everything  your life here.”

She smiled faintly, lost in memory. “You know, when you were child, if Aashish got late from work even by five minutes, you’d start crying like the world was ending. And when he finally walked in, you’d throw a tantrum so big that he’d have to do the silliest things just to make you laugh again.”

Rajeshwari’s tone softened even more. “He loves you, kiddo. You have no idea how much it hurts him when you stop talking to him.”

Riddhima finally spoke, still not opening her eyes. Her voice was calm… but broken.

“I’m not mad, Mom. I’m hurt. Deeply hurt. I used to think he was the best dad ever. Turns out I was wrong. What I called love, he called responsibility.”

Her lips trembled. “Tell me something, Mom does a daughter stop being good the moment she says no? Is she only loved when she obeys everything they say? The moment she takes her own stand, she becomes a burden?”

She took a deep breath before adding, her voice thick with pain, “You should understand that better than anyone. Nana threw you out because you wanted to marry Dad. And now Dad’s sending me away for the same reason because I don't  want to marry someone he  approve of.”

Rajeshwari froze. There were no words left to offer—only a tear that slipped quietly down her cheek.

She leaned down, kissed Riddhima’s forehead, and walked out silently.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the tears Riddhima had been holding back finally spilled. She wiped them away quickly, but her heart refused to calm.

Outside, Rajeshwari found Aashish standing outside the room and he listened eyerthing  Without a word, she walked straight into his arms and broke down.

He didn’t ask anything—just held her close, trying to keep both of them from falling apart.

Everyone dressed in peach colour for Mehndi function

Riddhima wore a stunning dark emerald green indo-western sharara set for her mehndi. The bralette-style blouse was embroidered with silver-gold work, paired with sheer, flowy sharara pants and a matching cape that gave her a modern royal vibe. Her statement chandbaalis, soft waves, and glowing face

Vansh’s wore a dark emerald green silk kurta with intricate silver embroidery on the collar and cuffs, paired with a tailored churidar and a sleek embroidered stole draped over one shoulder. His look perfectly matched Riddhima’s outfit, making them appear like a royal, coordinated couple straight out of a dream.

The moment Riddhima walked into the mehndi venue, the entire atmosphere shifted.

Every head turned, every whisper paused — but for Vansh, time simply stopped.

He looked at her and muttered under his breath with a smirk,

“So, Pranpriye saved all this beauty just for the wedding, huh?”

Mamta broke the moment, turning toward Riddhima

“Riddhima, there’s a ritual — the groom’s name should be written on the bride’s right hand.”

Riddhima slowly raised her right hand. It had ointment smeared on it, the skin slightly red.

Rajeshwari’s voice came out in panic, “Kiddo, your hand was perfectly fine yesterday! What happened?”

Riddhima sighed softly, not meeting her gaze.

“I was ironing my outfit, Mom… burned it by mistake.”

Mamta frowned, annoyed. “So now what? You can not going to write Vansh’s name?”

Before Riddhima could walk away, Vansh caught her wrist.

Without saying a word, he picked up the mehndi cone, leaned slightly closer, and said with a calm authority,

“Oh, it will be written   my name. And on the right hand only.”

He carefully wrote ‘Vansh weds Riddhima’ on her wrist, his touch deliberate, possessive.

Riddhima glared at him, her jaw tightening.

Vansh leaned closer to her ear, his voice low and teasing,

“Pranpriye, I know you did this on purpose.”

She yanked her hand free and sat down angrily for her mehndi.

A few minutes later, Vihaan walked over and crouched beside her.

“So, how are you feeling now, Riddhima?” he asked casually.

Riddhima shot him a sharp look and said dryly,

“I don’t remember inviting you, Vihaan. You seem like an uninvited guest.”

Vihaan chuckled under his breath, leaning close enough for only her to hear.

“Uninvited? I’m your stalker Riddhima. I don’t need an invitation.”

He laughed lightly and slung an arm playfully around her shoulder.

From a distance, Vansh’s jaw clenched.

Nitya, watching the whole exchange, giggled as Riddhima turned to hug her in mock irritation.

Meanwhile, Vansh stood there with that dangerous calm in his eyes — the kind that could silence a crowd.

He leaned toward Pranav and said in a low voice,

“Find out everything about this Vihaan Ranawat. He seems… a little too special for Pranpriye.”

The mehndi function was in full swing — laughter, music, and the scent of henna filled the air. Everyone was dancing, teasing, and enjoying every bit of it.

But Riddhima’s attention wasn’t on the celebration.

From a distance, her eyes kept drifting toward Ashish and Rajveer — sitting opposite each other, silent, as if the noise around them didn’t exist.

After a few moments, she leaned toward Nitya and whispered,

“I’ve heard since childhood that Rajveer uncle is Dad’s close friend… but I’ve never seen them actually talk.”

Nitya frowned slightly, following Riddhima’s gaze.

“Yeah, I noticed that too. It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Riddhima nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful.

“Very weird,” she murmured, still watching the two men

Almost everyone had their mehndi done—except Nitya.

She had stayed beside Riddhima the whole time, making sure she had everything she needed.

Later, after feeding Riddhima food Nitya was about to leave when Kartik stopped her midway.

“You didn’t get your mehndi done,” he said, raising a brow.

Nitya smiled faintly. “Yeah, I was a bit busy.”

Kartik smirked. “If you don’t mind… I could do it for you?”

For a second, she hesitated—but then nodded. They moved a little away from the crowd and sat together on a small seat, tucked in a quiet corner.

Before touching her hand, Kartik looked at her and asked softly,

“May I?”

Nitya extended her hand silently. Kartik began drawing delicate patterns, his focus steady, his fingers sure.

“You’re… actually good at this,” Nitya said, slightly surprised, watching the neat curves of henna forming across her skin.

Kartik chuckled. “Mom made me her personal mehndi artist since childhood. Guess practice does make a man perfect.”

They both laughed, that easy kind of laughter that fills silence with comfort.

But that warmth froze the moment a hand brushed through Nitya’s hair from behind.

A low whisper grazed her ear—dark, cold, familiar.

“Don’t you miss me, sweetheart?”

The voice made her blood run cold. She shot up instantly, yanking her hand away from Kartik’s. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead as her lips trembled,

“D–Dhruv ji… you?”

Kartik stood too, his jaw tightening when he saw the man—Dhruv Rathee—wrap an arm possessively around Nitya’s waist, pulling her closer.

Kartik’s eyes darkened. His fists clenched at his sides. The sight burned, but reality struck like a blade—

She wasn’t his. She was Dhruv’s wife now.

Dhruv smirked, stretching a hand toward Kartik.

“Hi, Mr. Dixit.”

Kartik didn’t shake it. He simply folded his hands slightly and said,

“Hi, Mr. Rathee.”

Then turned and walked away.

The moment Kartik left, Dhruv’s smile disappeared. He gripped Nitya’s hand so tightly she winced.

“You’re coming to the room. Now,” he hissed, dragging her with him.

“Dhruv ji, please—my hand— you’re hurting me!” she cried softly, but he only tightened his hold, dragging her down the hallway.

Meanwhile, the mehndi function wound down.

Music shifted, laughter returned, and everyone moved on to rehearse for the next big event—

the Singhaniyas vs Raichands sangeet competition.

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Thank you♡