The sound of the Raptors’ engine hums low as they roll to a stop. Jabroo, standing at an imposing 6’5”, steps out of the vehicle, his silent presence immediately commanding the air around him. His cold eyes scan the surroundings, his black shalwar kameez flowing with every movement, the gold Rolex on his wrist gleaming against his dark attire. His stoic expression is impenetrable, and the men around him instinctively fall in line, knowing his reputation as a ruthless protector.

The guards trail behind him, keeping their distance, but the moment he steps onto the property, something catches his attention. There she is—his wife, standing by the porch. Her black hair, soft and silky, flows straight down her back, and her modest yet stunning silk outfit flashes her curves, though every inch of her body remains hidden. The intricate mehendi adorning her arms from her elbows to fingertips gleams under the sun, and the jewelry draped over her makes her appear like a queen in waiting. Despite the elegance, there’s a knowing look in her eyes—a look that sends a rush of emotion through Jabroo, though his expression betrays none of it.

As Jabroo’s eyes lock with hers, the air shifts. The guards and attendants who had been working, walking, and talking freeze for a moment. They exchange sly glances, smirking, and averting their gazes, all too familiar with the undeniable bond between the two. It’s barely been three days since their marriage, but the weight of their connection is already palpable. Jabroo’s presence beside her is not just out of duty anymore—it’s something far more powerful, far more personal.

Jabroo (his voice low, gentle, and commanding):
"Begum."

The word hangs in the air, heavy with meaning, though his tone remains low. But in his eyes, there’s something else—something more than just affection.