Amrita sat glowing on the stage, surrounded by relatives, friends, and endless smiles. Aunties came in waves, touching her head, whispering blessings in her ear, pressing gifts wrapped in shimmering paper into her lap. The air smelled of sandalwood and perfume, of haldi kumkum and excitement.

She was busy adoring Guru—watching him from the corner of her eye, her heart fluttering every time he smiled or turned toward her. He stood a little away, talking quietly to Soori and jai sharp in a deep blue sherwani, hair slicked back, wristwatch gleaming—his presence commanding, silent and strong.

Everyone else was focused on the bride-to-be.

Except her.

She couldn’t stop looking at Guru.

That’s when it happened.

Suddenly, she noticed something strange. Guru’s attention shifting again and again from everyone like he was searching for someone and then suddenly eyes were no longer on the group he was talking to.

They were fixed—somewhere behind the crowd, past the mandap, locked in quiet awe.

He didn’t blink.

At first, Amrita thought it was nothing. Just a moment, maybe someone passing by. But then she saw it. That change on his face—not surprise, not even desire. Just stillness. Sharp and drawn in.

Her heart skipped, just once. She followed his gaze.

And there she saw her.

Avni.

Walking slowly through the crowd like she was born to be watched.

The deep wine saree clung to her like a second skin, gold zari gleaming under the fairy lights. Her long braid swayed. Her bangles chimed softly, her earrings shimmered, and her eyes—kohl-lined, calm, unhurried—searched the crowd like it belonged to her.

And for a heartbeat, it did.

Amrita’s smile faltered just a little.

Guru still hadn’t looked away.

He didn’t move. Didn’t adjust his collar, didn’t check his watch. His eyes stayed on Avni like he found his peace in this unwanted crowd.

And in that moment, Amrita realized—

This wasn’t her moment anymore.

Amrita closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, steadying the storm raging inside her. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her dupatta as she whispered to herself, “Avni is just a pawn… a prisoner in his game.”

She forced the words to sink in, repeating them like a mantra. “He married her for revenge. Nothing more.”

Her heart ached, but she refused to let it break her. She had seen the way Guru looked at her before—calm, detached, focused on the mission, not on feelings. There was never any promise between them, no spark to hold onto.

“There’s nothing between them. He doesn’t love her."

Amrita opened her eyes.She straightened her back and lifted her chin and put fake smile on her face for sake of her father.

Guru quickly looked away when jai blurted out something about sahil.

Meanwhile  avni hadn’t wanted to come. Everything about this event irritated her—Sanjay Bhai’s world, Guru’s silent strength, and especially this entire sham of a marriage. But she had her reasons… and now, she had a plan.

Plan to give everyone heart attack.

Her steps slowed as she noticed Amrita standing by the decorated swing, laughing half-heartedly while her eyes remained glued elsewhere—with far too much emotion for Avni’s liking.

Avni turned her gaze. Guru.

He stood under a mango tree, sleeves rolled up, speaking casually with his men.  Even without trying, he looked like the most powerful man there.

Avni smirked.

Let’s shake that image a bit.

She walked across the lawn, each step graceful, confident, yet buzzing with purpose. Her bangles clinked gently, and the soft breeze played with the loose end of her pallu.

As she neared, soori noticed her presence first—and went silent. Guru continued speaking, unaware with the fact she caught him staring at her.

Avni came to a stop right beside him and—without a word—threw a sharp, commanding look at soori and jai.

Her eyes said it all: Privacy, please.

Startled by the quiet authority in her stare, both exchanged glances and quickly stepped back, murmuring some excuse as they walked away.

"Apun Ata Hai bhai..."

Guru finally turned fully toward her, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Tu yeh kya kar rahi hai?” he asked, suspicion and confusion laced in his tone.

(“What are you doing?”)

But Avni didn’t answer. Instead, she reached up and began adjusting the collar of his kurta with practiced ease, her fingers brushing lightly over the fabric.

“Thoda sa ulta ho gaya tha,” she said sweetly.

(“It was a little crooked.”)

Guru blinked, clearly thrown off.

“jaroorat nahi hai ”

(“its not neended”)

“Tum function mein ho, Guru. Jungle mein nahi,” she replied, her smile teasing but her hands steady.

(“You're at a function, not in the jungle.”)

In that moment, mid-fix, her eyes flicked sideways—and there she was.

Amrita.

Still frozen, still watching. That same look of hurt, disbelief, and growing rage.

Avni smiled. Perfect.

Guru looked around—guests had begun to notice, whispers spreading like smoke.

“Nautanki band kar. Sab dekh rahe hain,” he muttered noticing sanjay stare from far.

(“Stop this drama. Everyone’s watching.”)

She leaned in just a little, her voice dipping into a whisper.

“Toh dekhne do. Tumhare Sanjay Bhai ko power dikhani thi na?”

(“Let them watch. Didn’t your Sanjay Bhai want to show off his power?”)

And after she was done with the collar, she didn’t walk away.

No, she stood beside him. Casually. Confidently. As if it were her place. Her fingers slowly captured his and she hold his hand like she never want to leave it.

The intertwined fingers

Her expression calm, but her eyes glittered with cold fire. This wasn't just for Amrita anymore. This was for Guru too—for dragging her into this world, for making her a pawn. If she was going to be here, she’d make sure both of them regretted it.

Guru stiffened beside her. He hated this. He hated the stares, the whispers, the way she stood there like she belonged. And most of all, he hated that he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Avni folded her arms, tilted her head slightly, and smiled again.

Badla toh lena hi tha. Ab dono se.

(This revenge was necessary. Now, from both of them.)

The couples exchanged the ring and after taking blessings everyone got busy with the photoshoot. Taking it chance Guru dragged avni somewhere away from everyone eyes behind the wall.

Avni jerked his hand and rubbed her wrist like she was the one who was more irritated with all action.

Guru’s voice cut through the silence,

“Yeh sab kya tha bahar?”

(“What was all that outside?”)

Avni opened her mouth, irritation flashing in her eyes, ready to answer—but then her gaze flickered to the side.

She caught sight of a shadow slipping quickly behind a pillar, trying to hide.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the figure, but Guru didn’t notice—his attention still fixed on her.

Avni’s lips pressed into a thin line, the unspoken warning clear: someone was watching.

A playful smile appeared on her lips which got noticed by Guru. Before he could understand what's happening she pulled his hand and placed it on her bare waist. 

For a moment Guru got completely shocked unable to believe, looking deep in his eyes she made his hand wrap around her waist and in a moment she hugged him tightly.

Avni’s arms tightened around Guru’s waist, then she suddenly softened her voice to an unexpected, almost babyish tone,

“Guru, hume bilkul time nahi mila akele, isiliye tum... mujhe yaha leke aagye ho?”

The words slipped out like a teasing whisper, catching him completely off guard.

Guru’s eyes widened in shock, unable to hide his surprise at this rare softness from her.

Avni chuckled silently against his shoulder, the mischievous glint in her eyes saying she was enjoying this little game far more than she should.

Just as the quiet moment stretched on, the soft shuffle of footsteps pulled Avni’s attention.

She broke the hug abruptly, stepping back smoothly.

Amrita appeared right in front of them, her eyes narrowing as she looked directly at Guru—her gaze sharp, almost unreadable.

She had never seen Guru this close to any woman before, especially not with Avni, who was supposed to be his enemy.

The air thickened with silent tension, the unspoken question hanging heavily between them all.

Guru stood frozen, completely silent and shocked. Even as Amrita’s sharp gaze bore down on him, he couldn’t shake the strange warmth still lingering where his hand rested on Avni’s bare waist, nor the gentle weight of her head against his chest.

A faint blush still colored his cheeks—subtle but undeniable.

His mind raced, caught between confusion and a feeling he wasn’t ready to face, while his lips remained tightly sealed.

Amrita’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp yet controlled,

“Ye sab kya chal raha hai?”

(“What’s all this going on?”)

Avni, feigning shyness, dropped her gaze for a moment and replied with a playful smile,

“Wahi sab jo ghar par... tum hi dekh lo na, yeh mujhe yaha kheench le aaye.”

(“The same things as at home... you see for yourself, he dragged me here.”)

Amrita’s jealousy flared quietly beneath her calm exterior. She wanted to ask more, to challenge and question, but something held her back—an unwillingness to fully believe what she was seeing.

The tension hung thick between the three, each lost in their own tangled emotions.

Amrita's gaze shifted sharply toward Guru, silently demanding an explanation.

But Guru didn’t respond.

He was still standing there, eyes slightly unfocused, her words echoing in his mind—“tum hi dekh lo na, yeh mujhe yaha kheench le aaye.”

The way she had said it... that soft tone, the shy smile—it wasn’t her. Not the Avni he knew. And yet, it had stirred something unfamiliar inside him.

Amrita's brows furrowed. Guru, always quick with words, always firm and sharp—was silent.

And that silence said far more than any answer could.

Amrita parted her lips, ready to speak—perhaps to question, perhaps to confront.

But just then, someone from her family called out cheerfully,

“Amrita! Dulhan ko andar bula rahe hain, photos ke liye aa ja!”

(“Amrita! The bride is being called inside for photos, come on!”)

She hesitated, her eyes still fixed on Guru—searching, questioning, hurting.

She didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not without answers.

But the voices grew louder, and with a reluctant breath, she turned away and walked off—back straight, steps heavy.

Behind her, Guru and Avni stood in silence. One confused, the other quietly victorious.

As Amrita disappeared into the crowd, her bridal dupatta trailing behind, Avni turned slightly toward Guru.

A soft giggle escaped her lips—low, mischievous, victorious.

Her eyes sparkled with wicked satisfaction as she tilted her head and whispered just loud enough for him to hear,

“Kaafi jal gayi lagta hai tumhari dost.”

(“Looks like your friend really burned up inside.”)

Guru’s jaw clenched, his gaze snapping to her—but that smirk on Avni’s face only deepened.

She had played her part perfectly, and she knew it.

Avni couldn’t hold back her laughter now. She had won this little round, and the cherry on top was standing right in front of her—Guru, still red like a tomato.

She tilted her head, stepping a little closer with that teasing glint in her eyes.

“Tum blush kar rahe ho?” she asked, voice filled with playful shock.

“Sharma rahe ho, Guru?”

(“You’re blushing? Getting shy, Guru?”)

Guru quickly looked away, his expression twitching into a scowl—but the blush refused to fade.

Seeing that, Avni’s smile widened in pure amusement.

“Vaise, mujhe nahi pata tha ki Gangster log bhi itna cute sharmaate hain,” she added, arms folded.

(“By the way, I didn’t know gangsters could blush this cutely.”)

Guru muttered something under his breath, refusing to meet her eyes.

But Avni? She was glowing with victory.

Avni grinned devilishly, her eyes still sparkling with mischief. After teasing him one last time, she waved at him casually,

“Bye, Guru.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked away, her saree pallu trailing behind her like a challenge.

Guru blinked, finally realizing the breath he’d been holding.

He raised his hand and gave himself a soft slap on the cheek, as if to shake himself awake.

Then he shook his head, trying to clear the dizzy swirl of thoughts.

“Kya bakwaas chal raha hai yaar,” he muttered, half amused, half annoyed.