A black jeep screeched to a halt in front of the house.

Guru stepped out in a hurry, his boots thudding against the dirt. Without wasting a second, he stormed into the house — his blood boiling. He had come to see her — his enemy’s daughter.

A few of his men followed, one holding a loaded gun, another gripping a knife already stained with blood.

As soon as Guru entered, the air changed. Heads dropped. Eyes turned to the floor. Whether it was respect he earned, or fear that silenced them — no one dared speak.

A loud thud came from the room where she was kept.

He pushed open the door.

“Bhai...” someone whispered, and everyone stepped aside, clearing his view.

There she was.

Red eyes glared at him like she could kill him right there. Her hands were tied tightly to the arms of a chair. She squirmed, furious, trying to break free.

Guru’s voice sliced through the silence.

“Yeh kaun hai?”

(Who is she?)

Everyone looked stunned.

“Bhai… yahi toh hai… woh…”

(Bhai, she’s… the one…)

“Kaun?”

(Who?)

“Dulhan… yahi toh hai dulhan… Reddy ki beti.”

(The bride… she’s the bride… Reddy’s daughter.)

Guru took a deep breath, scanning their faces in disbelief. He scoffed — then began laughing like a man possessed. His men joined in nervously.

But suddenly, Guru grabbed Soori by the collar.

Soori froze, heartbeat spiking.

“Yeh Reddy ki beti nahi hai.”

(She’s not Reddy’s daughter.)

Guru gritted his teeth and shoved Soori back. Frustration rippled through his veins.

“Kahan se uthake laaye ho in nalayako ko?”

(Where did you pick up these idiots from!?)

Soori looked confused and panicked.

“Phir yeh kaun hai…?”

(Then who is she?)

Everyone glanced at one another. No answers. Just whispers.

“Chup!!!”

(Silence!!!)

The room froze.

Guru looked at the girl again — breathing heavy, still glaring at him like fire.

Soori took a shaky step forward.

“Bhai… apun ko lagta hai ki yeh dulhan hi hai… ho sakta hai usne surgery karvayi ho… aajkal sab karate hai…”

(Bhai… I think she’s the bride… maybe she had surgery… people do that these days…)

Guru raised an eyebrow, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Accha!?”

(Really!?)

He stepped closer.

“Agar yeh Reddy ki beti nahi nikli — jo ki main jaanta hoon nahi hai — toh apun teri surgery karega. Aur tu jaanta hai, main surgery aise karta hoon ki log apna chehra pehchaan nahi paate.”

(If she turns out not to be Reddy’s daughter — and I know she’s not — I’ll do your surgery. And you know how good I am… people can’t even recognize their own faces after.)

“Sorry bhai…” Soori mumbled.

Just then, Guru’s phone rang. He walked out of the room, but not before giving the girl one last look — bound to a chair, still dressed like a bride.

He picked up the call.

“Bhai, ek galti ho gayi hai apun ke logon se…”

(Bhai, my men made a mistake…)

“Kya!?”

(What!?)

“Shaadi? Aur apun? Bhai, zindagi barbaad nahi karni hai apun ko.”

(Marriage? Me? Bhai, I’m not ready to ruin my life.)

“Bhai, apun Soori ko bolta hai shaadi ke liye, woh kar lega.”

(I’ll ask Soori to do it. He’ll get married instead.)

“Bhai, apun aapki har baat manega, par—”

(Bhai, I’ll do anything you say, but—)

The call disconnected. Guru stared at the screen, anger simmering beneath his skin.

A loud commotion broke out again — a woman’s voice, full of rage.

He stormed back into the room.

“I’ll kill you!” she screamed.

“Tum logon ki complaint karungi court mein! Supreme Court will drag you till hell!”

(I’ll file a complaint against you in court! The Supreme Court will drag you to hell!)

A gunshot rang through the air — Guru had fired into the ceiling.

She gasped, eyes shut tight in fear. When she opened them, he was right in front of her, gun pointed at her face.

“Apun ka dimag already kharab hai… aur teri yeh English sunke apun ka bheja fry ho gaya hai.”

(My mind’s already messed up… and your English just fried my brain.)

“Dhamki Hindi mein dena nahi aati kya!?”

(Don’t you know how to threaten in Hindi!?)

He turned to the room.

“Aur muh kisne khola be iska?”

(And who the hell let her speak!?)

Soori raised his hand sheepishly.

Guru laughed — dry and sarcastic. Of course.

“Bhai… apun bas jaana chahta tha ki yeh kaun hai…”

(I just wanted to know who she is…)

Guru gripped the chair tightly and leaned into her face.

“Apun batata hai na kaun hai yeh… aaj hi iska naya intro mila hai.”

(I’ll tell you who she is… just got her new introduction today.)

He turned to his men, voice firm and final.

“Bhabhi hai tum sab ki.”

(She’s your sister-in-law.)