The house was alive—laughter echoing through the halls, snacks being crunched mid-conversation, cameras rolling somewhere in the background. The Wolf Crew was in full swing.

Rooh, Sikander, Ali, Hashir, Shahveer, Sunny, and Ayesha were already deep into their usual banter—chaotic, hilarious, and loud.

And Sherry Jafry? He was leaning back near the staircase, calm as always. 6 feet of quiet muscle, black hoodie, grey sweats, a silver ring glinting on his finger—chilled-out demeanor with a sharp gaze that missed nothing. The youngest Jafry brother, always the observer.

Until she walked in.

She stepped through the door—and time paused.

YN. Ayesha’s best friend. The new guest.

Long dark hair tucked beneath a loose, white headscarf. A pastel purple floral dress flowed around her, cinched at the waist, soft sleeves brushing her wrists. Feminine. Modest. Beautiful. Glasses perched on her head. Watch on her wrist. Smile warm enough to melt marble.

She greeted everyone easily, salaam on her lips, kindness in her eyes.

But Sherry?

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.

His jaw subtly locked, eyes locked on her like she was the only person in the room.

And across the couch—

Shahveer caught it immediately. Eyebrow lifted. Ohhh?

Sunny glanced at him too—grinning. Leaning over to Rooh. “Yo... Sherry’s done for. You see his face?” Rooh stifled a laugh. Hashir just whispered, “Should we plan the nikkah now or later?”

Sherry didn't notice any of it.

Because he was still stuck in a silent daze, whispering in his head: “Ya Allah…”

Because how could someone be this breathtaking? How could someone walk into a house full of loud personalities and still steal every ounce of attention just by existing?

She hadn’t even looked his way yet—and he already knew. He was in trouble. Deep, sweet trouble.

And judging by the knowing smirks forming around the room?

His brothers knew it too.