📢 Apology & Big Update Announcement! 📢
Hey, my amazing readers! đź’ś
First of all, I owe you all a huge apology for missing the last update. I know many of you were waiting, and I truly feel bad for the delay. Life got a bit chaotic, and I couldn't upload as planned. I appreciate your patience and your constant support—it really means the world to me! 🤍
But here's the good news! Mine Yes! Forced to be Yours Mr. Devil is back on track, and I'm sticking to the promised update schedule! 🎉 You won't have to wait long because exciting chapters are coming your way!
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Laughter filled the grand Singhaniya mansion, echoing through its marble halls as splashes of vibrant hues painted the air with joy. The scent of sweets, fresh flowers, and the unmistakable fragrance of gulal blended into an intoxicating melody of celebration.
In the midst of it all, Ria stood grinning mischievously, holding a water balloon dripping with colored water. Her eyes sparkled as she found her perfect target—Aarav. With precision, she hurled the balloon, and it landed with a loud splash against his back.
"Happy Holi, Twin!" she shouted, clapping her hands as Aarav froze in place.
For a second, he didn't react. The cold water seeped into his kurta, making him shiver slightly before he turned, eyes narrowing at his sister.
"Ruk! Abhi batata hoon Dadi ko! Vo khabar legi teri!" Aarav threatened, a playful smirk curling on his lips as he lunged forward.
Ria shrieked, dodging him at the last second, rushing towards the other side of the sofa where Janvi stood, observing the scene with amused curiosity. The moment she saw Aarav coming, Ria grabbed Janvi's wrist, pulling her along.
"Save me!" she giggled, hiding behind Janvi.
Aarav was about to counterattack when his gaze landed on Janvi properly for the first time. His steps faltered. The teasing grin faded slightly, replaced by something unreadable in his eyes.
Janvi, standing there awkwardly, noticed the shift in his expression and raised an eyebrow. "What?" she asked, tilting her head.
Aarav blinked, covering up his hesitation. "Nothing." His voice was unusually quiet.
Before anything more could be said, Komal and Rakhi entered the living room.
"Singhaniya generation, come to me!" Komal's voice rang out with authority, cutting through the playful chaos.
Everyone turned toward her, and as her gaze landed on the unfamiliar face, she paused.
"Beta, tum?" Komal asked, eyes softening as she took in Janvi's presence.
Ria stepped in immediately. "Dadi, she's our friend."
Janvi, despite the warmth in Komal's voice, instinctively bent down to touch her feet in greeting. But before she could, Rakhi reached out, stopping her gently.
"No, beta," Rakhi said with a smile. "You are Laxmi, and in our house, we don't let Laxmi touch our feet. Devi touches our hearts, not our feet. A hug is enough."
For a moment, Janvi hesitated, unfamiliar with such gestures, but when Ria and Anaya gave her reassuring smiles, she finally leaned in, embracing Rakhi first, then Komal.
As soon as the formalities ended, Janvi wished them all a happy Holi.
Meanwhile, Aarav stood nearby, slightly damp from the water attack, his expression unreadable. He quickly turned to Komal, seeking justice.
"Dadi, look what your granddaughter did!" he complained, gesturing towards his wet clothes.
Komal chuckled, patting his cheek. "Toh behna bhi tumhari hi hai. Tum par hi gayi hai."
The teasing sent a ripple of laughter through the room, but before Aarav could respond, Dev entered with a large plate of colors. The eldest Singhaniya carried himself with his usual quiet strength, his presence commanding but affectionate.
Walking to Komal first, he bent down and gently applied a soft smear of color to her feet before moving up to her cheeks, marking her with the hues of Holi. Komal, in return, colored his cheeks with a fond smile.
Next, Dev turned to Rakhi. He took a pinch of red sindoor-like color and softly placed it on her forehead before applying color to her cheeks.
"Happy Holi, Rakhi," he murmured with warmth.
Rakhi's eyes softened as she touched his cheek in return, her own lips curving into a small smile.
As the family continued their celebrations, Ria wasted no time coloring Komal, and soon, everyone had been covered in vibrant shades. However, amidst all this, one person remained untouched.
Anaya.
She stood there, smiling as she watched her family playing, teasing, and coloring each other, but she was still clean—save for the color Rudra had applied to her earlier. That was the only mark on her.
Ria and Janvi had started a mini battle, laughing as they smeared colors onto each other, but Anaya's eyes drifted towards someone who had been there just moments ago and had now disappeared.
Aarav.
It was odd. He had been so enthusiastic moments ago, but now, he had vanished as if he had never been part of the excitement. Anaya frowned slightly, her fingers tightening around the edge of her dupatta.
"Beta, don't worry." Rakhi's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
She turned to see her mother-in-law smiling at her, reading her emotions effortlessly.
"Rudra will come," Rakhi reassured her.
Komal nodded, adding, "Yes, but you will have to search for him. He might be in his office."
Anaya sighed, nodding. Her fingers traced the edge of a color plate as she took a few pinches of bright red and yellow powder. Then, deciding she might as well take something for Rudra too, she picked up a plate with freshly made gujiyas before heading upstairs.
Behind her, Ria turned to Janvi with a playful grin. Dipping her fingers into a bowl of color, she smeared Janvi's cheeks, laughing.
"Come, let me show you how our family celebrates Holi! First, meet my mom, Dadi, and dad!" she declared.
Janvi chuckled, allowing herself to be led towards them. One by one, she greeted them, placing small smudges of color on their cheeks as they blessed her in return.
Rakhi, watching the girl closely, leaned towards Komal and murmured, "She's beautiful, isn't she, Maa?"
Komal smiled knowingly, but before she could reply, Dev, who had been munching on a gujiya from Rakhi's plate, spoke up.
"Oh yes, she is beautiful," he agreed. "But don't start thinking about alliances just yet. Our children are not old enough for marriage."
He took another bite, smirking slightly as Rakhi narrowed her eyes at him.
"You can't eat all the gujiyas, Mr. Singhaniya," she chided, snatching the plate from his hand.
Komal chuckled, taking one for herself. "Rakhi, you are an excellent cook," she praised. "After all, you're my daughter-in-law."
Their laughter mixed with the festive sounds of Holi outside. But while everyone was lost in colors and joy, Anaya's thoughts were elsewhere—on the man she was about to find.
Upstairs, as she reached Rudra's office door, she hesitated for a moment before pushing it open.
What awaited her inside, she had no idea.
But if there was one thing she knew, it was that Rudra Singhaniya never did anything without a reason.
And today… she had a feeling this Holi was going to be different.
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Laughter bloomed through the Singhaniya mansion like jasmine in spring—sweet, uncontrollable, and everywhere.
Holi had taken over.
Colors swirled in the air, staining the marble walls with reckless joy. Saffron yellows, deep magentas, and electric blues painted both people and pillars alike. The scent of freshly fried gujiyas, rose petals, and earthy gulal clung to every breath.
Downstairs, the family reveled in a beautiful kind of chaos—smearing colors, chasing one another with water balloons, laughing without restraint.
But Anaya stood still in the middle of it all. Like a breath held too long.
A brass plate of bright powders balanced carefully in her hands, her eyes drifted toward the garden where Ria and Janvi played like children high on sunlight and sugar. Pink streaks ran down their cheeks. Laughter exploded from their lungs.
And yet, Anaya stood untouched.
Well—almost.
One mark. One deep, lingering red streak on her cheek. The first color she'd received today.
Rudra's color.
Her fingers brushed against it, featherlight. She hadn't wiped it off. Not because she forgot. Because she didn't want to.
He had left soon after applying it—his hand warm against her skin, his eyes unreadable. And then he'd vanished, slipping from the celebration like a shadow melting into stone.
She had searched for him in the noise, but he wasn't there.
"Beta, don't worry. Rudra will come," Rakhi said softly, her voice tugging Anaya from her thoughts.
Beside her, Komal smiled. "You'll find him where he always hides."
Anaya nodded silently, heart already racing.
The further she climbed the stairs, the quieter the world became.
Laughter faded behind her. Music dulled into background hums. It was like crossing through a veil—from color into shadow.
Anaya stopped outside his office door. Her reflection in the polished wood looked calm. But her fingers trembled against the plate of colors and sweets she carried.
She pushed the door open.
There he was.
Rudra Singhaniya, sleeves rolled up, collar undone, shirt slightly creased like he'd been pulling at it in frustration. The glow of the screen lit half his face, but even the harsh blue light couldn't erase the raw masculinity carved into every inch of him.
He didn't look up right away.
But when her anklets chimed against the marble floor, his eyes flicked up—first to her face, then down to the red sari clinging to her waist.
His gaze lingered.
She felt it like heat.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, voice quiet, unreadable.
Anaya stepped inside. "It's Holi," she said softly, setting the plate on his desk. "And I figured someone had to bring color into this office."
He leaned back in his chair. "You know I don't—"
"Like Holi," she finished. "Yes. Ria told me. But maybe you don't like it because you never gave it a real chance."
His jaw flexed. "Or maybe because it's loud. Messy."
She smiled, dipping her fingers into a bowl of pink powder. "So are emotions. But you still have those."
She reached for his cheek. But before she could touch him, his hand snapped up, wrapping around her wrist.
Her breath caught. He didn't squeeze. He didn't hurt her.
But he held her.
"Anaya…" he said her name like a warning, low and gravel-edged.
She looked up at him.
"Come on," she whispered, eyes daring him. "It's just color. I promise it won't break you."
He stared at her, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then, slowly, he let go.
She touched his cheek—warm, solid—and left behind a soft streak of pink.
"There," she said with a quiet grin. "Now it's officially Holi for you too."
For a beat, he just stared at her.
Then the corners of his mouth curved up, slow and unguarded.
"You're impossible."
"I try," she said brightly, popping a gujiya into her mouth. "Also, I brought these. Your mom made them."
He picked one up and took a bite. His face softened almost imperceptibly.
"She still remembers I like these?"
"She remembers everything."
He looked at her then, not just with his eyes—but something deeper.
She stepped closer, gently brushing some color from his jaw with her thumb. Her hand lingered.
"Happy Holi, Mr. Singhaniya," she whispered.
For the first time that day, Rudra smiled fully.
And for the first time in longer than she could remember, Anaya felt seen.
Downstairs – Color Wars and Watchful Eyes
The garden had turned into a battlefield.
Ria ran across the lawn like a soldier on a mission, smearing a burst of pink across Janvi's face.
"Now you're officially part of the Singhaniya Holi!" she yelled.
Janvi squealed and grabbed a fistful of yellow in retaliation.
Laughter erupted around them.
Aarav, back from wherever he'd disappeared to, stood with his arms folded, face wiped clean—almost suspiciously so. His kurta still clung damply from Ria's earlier water balloon ambush.
"Aarav beta," Komal called, pretending to scold, "you've been too quiet. Ria's your sister—of course she'll color you."
Aarav started to reply—but didn't get the chance.
Ria lunged and smeared green across his cheek.
"Happy Holi, twin!" she yelled.
He groaned dramatically. "Dadi, she's evil."
Komal just laughed.
Nearby, Rakhi leaned close to Komal, her voice low. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"
Komal followed her gaze to Janvi—laughing, radiant, covered in color.
"She is," Komal said with a nod.
Dev, standing nearby with a half-eaten gujiya, added casually, "Yes, but don't get any ideas. They're all still too young for that kind of matchmaking."
Rakhi shot him a look and snatched the gujiya from his hand.
"You'll get another when you stop stealing everyone's desserts," she said with a mock glare.
The family's laughter rose again.
The sun dipped lower, casting golden light across the colorful lawn. Streaks of red and violet danced across faces, clothes, hearts.
And even as joy reigned downstairs, upstairs—unseen by the rest—one girl had colored a man who never let anyone close.
And she'd left a mark no Holi rain could wash away.
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Anaya stepped into the room, her brows furrowing as she looked around. It was empty. A heavy silence hung in the air, only broken by her own quiet murmurs.
"Where is he… Mr. Devil? Oh, Mr. Devil, akhir ho kaha tum?" she whispered, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips.
She turned on her heel, scanning the space with wide eyes. The mansion was massive—like a palace, or perhaps a private heaven. But right now, it felt like a labyrinth designed to drive her insane.
"This man could be anywhere…" she muttered, gripping the brass plate of colors in her hand.
Moving further into the office, she glanced at every possible hiding spot. A flicker of memory passed through her mind—she had been here before, in this very room, the night he had taken her on an unexpected date. But something felt off. The air carried a certain weight, something almost… forbidden.
She stepped closer to the mahogany desk, fingers brushing against its sleek surface when—
Click.
A soft, mechanical sound echoed in the room. Her breath hitched.
"What was that?"
Her eyes darted around as she searched for the source of the noise. Then, as if summoned by her touch, the wall panel beside the bookshelf shifted with a quiet slide, revealing a darkened passage.
Anaya gasped.
"No way…"
The panel had moved, uncovering a hidden room—a room she had never seen before. She hesitated, heart hammering against her ribs.
Taking a cautious step forward, she peered inside. A soft, dim glow illuminated the space, revealing a beautifully furnished interior. The walls were painted in deep blue, with gold accents running along the corners, giving it an air of luxury and secrecy.
A massive king-sized bed sat in the center, its dark sheets slightly disheveled. A television was mounted against the wall, shelves stacked with books and a few personal belongings neatly arranged. But what caught her attention the most was the absence of windows.
It was a sanctuary. A hidden chamber.
A secret.
Anaya swallowed hard.
Her gaze swept over the space until it landed on a large framed photograph hanging on the opposite wall. Curiosity pulled her forward, her steps slow, almost hesitant. As she neared the image, the soft glow of embedded lights flickered to life, illuminating the frame.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The picture was of her.
Not just any picture—it was of her at twelve years old.
Her big brown eyes stared back at her, innocence and wonder captured in the frame. In the image, she was holding a single red rose while standing near a staircase, her expression thoughtful, almost melancholic.
Shock pulsed through her veins.
"How does he have this?"
Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the frame, but before she could, a warm hand wrapped firmly around her waist.
She gasped, her body pulled back into an unyielding embrace. A familiar scent engulfed her—rich, masculine, intoxicating.
Her plate of colors wobbled in her grip, and in the next moment, red and pink powders splattered onto the crisp white fabric of a shirt.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
The grip on her waist tightened, turning her with a swift movement, forcing her to face the man who held her captive.
Rudra.
His dark, piercing gaze burned into hers, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His hands didn't loosen. If anything, they gripped her even firmer, locking her against his chest.
Anaya's lips parted in shock.
"T—Tum… tum aap… Ru… Rudra?" she stammered, unable to find the words as she stared at his face—now streaked with red from the Holi colors that had transferred from her hand.
The smirk on his lips deepened, mischief dancing in his dark eyes.
"Haan, bolo Velvet." His voice was low, rough, dripping with something that made her stomach twist.
Her mind barely registered the nickname.
"You… you were here all along?" she finally managed to whisper.
His fingers trailed up her spine, sending a shiver through her body.
"Mmm…" He tilted his head slightly. "Aur tum mujhe dhoond rahi thi, hmm?"
Her breath hitched.
"I… I wasn't looking for you!" she tried to defend herself, but her voice betrayed her, barely above a whisper.
His grip tightened, pulling her flush against him, the heat of his body seeping into hers.
"Sach mein?" His tone held amusement, but there was something else lurking beneath it—something darker.
Her hands pressed against his chest, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. The color stains on it stood out vividly now, a reminder of how close they were.
"Y-You're hiding here?" she accused, voice weak.
He leaned in, so close that she could feel his breath ghost against her skin.
"Aur tum mujhe dhoondh kar yahaan aa gayi…" he murmured. "Velvet… kya tumhe pata bhi hai tum abhi kahan ho?"
Her heart pounded wildly.
_"I…" she struggled to form a response, but her thoughts were a tangled mess.
This room. That picture. His hold.
Everything screamed of secrets. Secrets he had kept hidden for years.
Rudra tilted her chin up with a single finger, his smirk never fading.
"Toh? Batao Anaya… Holi ka pehla rang kaun lagayega?" he whispered.
Her eyes widened.
Before she could react, before she could even take a single breath—
A burst of color filled the air.
Red.
It painted her face, her hair, her entire being as Rudra's hands pressed against her cheeks, smearing the powder with deliberate slowness.
Her breath caught.
His smirk turned into something more—something that sent fire through her veins.
"Ab tum meri ho, Velvet." His voice was rough, possessive.
And Anaya knew—this Holi, she had been marked not by Holi colors but by his color, color of Love.