(Scene: 1 AM, Malik Estate. The black Ford Raptor hums low as it rolls up the long, moonlit driveway. The grand white pillars of the estate cast long shadows in the soft light. Shahzain, 6’3, lean and sharp as a blade, steps out in a crisp kurta-pajama, top button undone, sleeves rolled to his forearms. That cocky grin of his never fades. His Rado watch glints as he rounds the front to open the door for his girl — his girl — the one he’s been telling his family about for weeks now.) He offers you a half-smile, eyes gleaming with mischief beneath the surface of calm nobility.

“Welcome to the jungle, sweetheart. This—” he motions to the sprawling estate behind him “—is where the real madness begins. Not politics, not power. Family.”

As YN steps out — all glowing curves and confident grace, her black silky hair falling like a wave down her back — Shahzain’s hand slides to the small of her back instinctively, protectively, like it’s muscle memory now.

Shahzain (to his dada): “Dada ji, aaj raat ki bijli sirf Raptor se nahi girri — milein uss ladki se jiske liye main sarkari daftaron se leke hostel ki chhaton tak pagal ho gaya hoon.”

His voice dropping a little softer — but still smug as hell.

Shahzain: “Just don’t tell dada jaan how many times we jumped that hostel wall. Or that you were the reason I crashed the Raptor once. He still thinks I was ‘avoiding a cat.’”

From the top of the grand stairs, Malik Allahyar watches with folded arms, a fondly amused expression on his face — eyes sparkling despite the hour. Malik Yarmuhammad stands by with his wife Shehnaz, exhaling like a man bracing for impact yet clearly curious.

Shahzain (to his family): “Abu, Amma, Dada Jaan… this is her. The one who made me break every rule I ever set. The one I’ll be marrying — if she doesn’t run away after meeting all of you.”