The evening had finally given Yusra something rare.

Peace.

After weeks of chaos, irritation, and constant mental torture, sitting in a dark theater with Aastha, laughing, eating popcorn, and watching her favorite hero on screen felt like therapy.

For a few hours she forgot everything. Fahad. Ambreen. The school. Her unpaid slavery. Everything.

“Best decision ever,” Aastha stretched as they stepped out of the theater.

Yusra nodded, a small genuine smile finally resting on her lips. “I needed that.”

“And now,” Aastha grinned, “Tunday Kababi.”

Yusra’s eyes lit up. “Now you are talking my language, Aastha Bibi.”

The streets of Lucknow were alive, crowded, loud and full of aromas that made your stomach growl instantly.

They had just settled near the famous kebab spot, plates in hand, when fate decided… Peace was illegal in Yusra’s life.

“Arre wah.”

That voice and Yusra froze mid-bite. Slowly… painfully… she turned and there he was that Bhadwa Fahad.

Standing there like a disease that refused to die.

Aastha muttered under her breath, “Not again…”

Fahad walked closer, hands in pockets, that same irritating smirk plastered on his face.

“Following me now?” Yusra snapped instantly.

“Well the only thing I want to do.” He mumbled underneath his breath then said while chuckling. “I should be asking you that. You rejected me but still keep showing up wherever I go.”

Yusra didn’t say anything, she was just calculating how to bury that Bhadwa alive right here and right now.

Fahad glanced at her plate. “Eating kebabs without me? That hurts.”

“Tumhe apne hatho se zehr na khiladu? (Shouldn’t I feed you poison with my own hands?)” she replied sweetly.

Aastha coughed to hide her laugh.

“I’d gladly take even that from your hands.” Fahad leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. “By the way, you know… if you had said yes, you would not have to sit at these roadside tables. We would be sitting together in a fine-dining restaurant, and I would be feeding you with my own hands.”

Yusra narrowed her eyes then slowly put her plate down. “Oh.”

Aastha immediately whispered, “Yusra… no…”

But it was too late. Yusra slipped off her sandal.

“Yusra, do not…” Aastha tried again.

THWACK.

“YOU BHAADWE!” The slipper landed straight on Fahad’s arm.

“Have you lost your mind?” Fahad jumped back.

“You dare say that again,” she snapped, hitting him again. “Say it. Say it again.”

People started gathering.

Fahad tried to block. “Stop this madness. People are watching.”

“Good,” she said loudly. “Let them see what kind of creep you are. Ek number ke Bhadwe.”

“This is my fiancée,” Fahad suddenly announced to the crowd that was staring at them. “She is just angry.”

Yusra paused and then laughed. Laughed like she had heard the biggest joke of her life.

“Fiancée?” she scoffed. “In your dreams.” and again started beating him with her sandal.

Then she turned toward the crowd watching the scene and snapped, “This Bhadwa is harassing a girl in broad daylight, and all of you can only stand here and watch? Spineless people.”

Fahad dodged, protesting loudly, trying to keep his false dignity in front of strangers. "She is lying! This is my fiancee. She is just angry with me, a small fight between lovers. Nothing more."

Yusra's anger was only raised by his words. She stopped for a second, eyes blazing. "Liar!”

“You are a liar.” Fahad said then in a pleading tone. “Baby, I'm sorry…..”

She interrupted sharply. “Shut up! Or I will….”

“You will what? I'm your fiance.” he cut her off hurriedly and said to the crowd. “She came here to meet me and just got angry. Nothing else.”

Yusra lied smoothly because now she is planning to give this bhadwa a good lesson by getting him beaten by the crowd. “No, I am waiting here for my boyfriend. He is coming any minute…..."

Fahad scoffed. "Do not lie so much. You do not have any boyfriend."

She shot back instantly. "Yes I do. And he is much better looking than you.”

“Then where is your boyfriend?” Fahad challenged. “You always talk big. Show me.”

That was it. Something in Yusra snapped. Today he had ruined her morning. His mother had ruined her entire weekend and now he was standing here again.

No.

Not today.

Her eyes scanned the crowd and then… She saw him.

Tall. Broad. Standing still. Watching everything and without thinking, without planning, without logic.

Yusra marched straight toward him.

Zaid frowned in confusion, Aastha hid her face in her palms and Fahad his soul left his body but before anyone could react…

She reached him. “Finally,” she said, slightly breathless. “You are so late.” And then she grabbed his hand.

Uzair stilled completely. The world around him dimmed. Because no one… No one had ever dared to touch him like that and his gaze was just locked on her beautiful heart shaped lips which were calling him as hers.

Yusra also looked up and froze for a fraction of a second. Dark brown eyes, sharp and intense, were already watching her.

Not shocked. Not confused. Just… watching. Her heart skipped. But she did not stop because right now is not the time.

“See,” she said loudly, turning slightly toward the crowd, still holding his hand. “My boyfriend is here.”

Zaid almost choked. Boyfriend? Since when?

Fahad frowned, stepping closer. “He does not even know you.”

Yusra’s mind worked fast. Very fast. Because she knew if this man denied her right now… In the middle of a crowded market, it would be utterly humiliating and Yusra would be finished. And especially in front of this bastard Fahad, he’d mock her even more, and his audacity would only grow.

So she did something even bolder.

She stepped closer then wrapped her arms around him from the side. A soft, quick hug.

The crowd gasped. Aastha’s mouth fell open. Zaid blinked and Fahad looked shocked as if his entire world had been turned upside down.

And Uzair…

For the first time in his life… he felt something unfamiliar.

A rush. A spark. Her touch was soft, warm and so fucking real that he had never felt before. His body went rigid for a second. Electricity shooting through his veins. Because no woman had ever held him like this ever.

Yusra leaned slightly closer, her lips near his shoulder, whispering quickly so no one but just him could listen to her.

“Please, bhaijaan, save me from this Bhadwa. I’ll be grateful to you for the rest of my life.”

And that word… Bhaijaan. Hit harder than anything.

Uzair’s entire expression shifted for a fraction of a second. Just a fraction. Because this girl…

Had just called him her boyfriend in front of everyone. Held his hand. Hugged him and now… Was calling him brother.

Zaid turned his face away, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing because he had heard it and this was about to get very interesting.

Because he had never seen his friend look at any girl with such soft eyes the way he was looking at this one… and she had just called him bhaijaan.

For the first time, Uzair Chaudhry’s gaze had stopped on a girl and she was calling him brother. This was a moment worth recording, but even if Zaid wanted to, he couldn’t laugh or say anything. He just stood there silently, watching Uzair, waiting for his next move.

Uzair looked down at her. She was still holding his hand, still standing far too close, and those hazel eyes, now pleading….soft, desperate, alive.

She leaned in again, whispering quickly, her voice low and urgent, “Please… just scare him a little. Do not hurt him too much. He is my bhabhijaan’s brother. I do not want trouble for her… but please… teach him a lesson.” 

Uzair listened. Really listened and for a man who barely spoke calmly to anyone, his next words came out dangerously smooth that even Zaid’s head snapped toward him in pure shock as Uzair tilted his head slightly, his voice low but clear enough for everyone,

 “I am sorry, baby. Got stuck in traffic.” A pause followed, and then his gaze shifted to Fahad. “I will handle this bhadwa. You do not worry.” And just like that, he played along…. perfectly.

Yusra blinked, and then her entire body relaxed. A small smile tugged at her lips, relief, victory and that tiny dimple that appeared on her cheek… that was it.

Uzair lost himself right there, completely.

She stepped two steps back instantly, and Aastha rushed to her, grabbing her arm. “Yusra, have you lost your mind?”

And that name… Yusra. Something about it settled in Uzair’s chest strangely, comfortably, like it belonged there because she is exactly what her name means and Uzair felt that ease and comfort that he hadn't for years.

Fahad scoffed, trying to regain control. “How much will you lie, Yusra? I will tell mamujaan everything.” He stepped forward but did not even finish his sentence. “That you are hugging random roadside men now…”

SLAP.

The sound echoed loud, sharp, and violent.

Fahad’s body jerked sideways, and he hit the ground and silence followed after that. Complete silence.

Even the street noise seemed to pause for a second.

Yusra’s mouth fell open. Aastha blinked twice. Zaid smirked, folding his arms.

Fahad sat there, hand on his cheek, ears ringing, a loud “teeeennnn” echoing in his head.

He looked up at Uzair shocked, confused, humiliated because that was not a normal slap. That felt like he had been hit by a storm.

But his ego… still alive. He stood up instantly and lunged forward, but before he could even reach him, Uzair grabbed him by the collar with one hand, effortlessly stopping him mid-step like he weighed nothing.

Yusra blinked again while Aastha whispered, “What… just happened…” and Zaid’s smirk only deepened.

Uzair’s gaze turned cold, deadly as he looked at the crowd first. “And what exactly are all of you watching?” his voice cut through the air. “A circus?” Silence followed; no one spoke. “If you have nothing better to do, leave.”

That was enough. People started dispersing immediately. No one wanted to stay, not with him standing there because his aura was enough to shoo them away.

Then Uzair’s grip tightened on Fahad’s collar as he pulled him slightly closer. “Listen carefully, bhadwe,” his voice dropped, calm but lethal, “just because she tolerates your nonsense for the sake of your mother and sister… does not mean you get to do whatever you want.”

Fahad swallowed.

“She is not alone,” Uzair continued, “and do not ever make the mistake of thinking she is.” His eyes darkened further. “If I see you anywhere near her again…Toh tujhe aisi jagah marunga k teri naslein tere sath hi khatam hogi. ( I'm gonna smash you so bad in that spot that your whole fucking lineage dies with you.)"

Fahad could not even speak. He gulped nervously because his words were not just an empty threat he can do it too that Fahad was sure.

Uzair shoved him back so hard that Fahad fell again, and this time… he did not get up.

Uzair turned without another word, reached for Yusra’s hand, and held it firm. “Come, baby,” he said casually, “let’s eat somewhere else.” And just like that, he started walking, taking her with him.

Yusra was still in shock, absolute shock but that one line, that threat he had just given to Fahad, made her heart do a little flip.

She was so happy again repeating that one hindi line in her mind over and over again that she did not even realize he was still holding her hand. She just walked with him automatically.

Then suddenly, as they moved a little away, she turned her head and stuck her tongue out at Fahad, teasing, victorious.

Fahad just stood there, staring, still processing the slap, still processing everything, and most importantly, now fully believing that this man… was actually her boyfriend. Because no one, no one would hit like that otherwise and also what Uzair said about his mother and sister that made him believe that he knows her and not just a random stranger.

But what that idiot doesn’t know is that Uzair actually knows nothing. It was just his presence of mind, he picked up bits from him and Yusra, put two and two together, and spun it so cleverly that it didn’t even feel like a lie… it felt like the truth.

A little distance away, Yusra suddenly stopped and pulled her hand back and Uzair felt it instantly that sudden emptiness, like something had been taken away from him.

But before he could react, she spoke fast, breathless, “Thank you, bhaijaan. Thank you so much. You helped me a lot and also I am really sorry I dragged you into my mess like that by calling you my boyfriend out of the blue and hugging you like this. Please sorry bhaijaan.”

All in one breath she just called him brother twice and Zaid looked away, biting his lip again.

Uzair stared at her and then spoke immediately, “Do not call me bhaijaan.”

Yusra blinked. “What else should I call you then? You are a stranger. I cannot call you anything else but Bhaijaan. And after helping me this much, saying thank you is the least I can do.” She gave her logic.

Then she clasped her hands dramatically. “And that slap… oh my God. My lifelong wish is fulfilled. May Allah grant you all your wishes. Seriously. Thank you so much, bhaijaan.”

“Amen!” Zaid  mumbled underneath his breath before turning his face completely now, shoulders shaking.

Uzair just stood there, watching her, speechless for a second, and before he could say or ask anything else, she grabbed Aastha’s hand. “Come.”

And just like that, she walked away fast, light like she had entered his life like a quiet breeze… and left like a storm.

Uzair stood there, still, his eyes fixed on her disappearing figure. Something had shifted, and he knew it. For the first time in his life… Uzair Chaudhry did not walk away first. He just looked at the woman who had awakened something inside him.

And now he wants that girl, no matter what, he wants her. Just a single touch from her had stirred something in him, awakened feelings he had never experienced before.

At the position Uzair holds, thousands of women are ready to lay themselves at his feet every day just to climb the ladder of success… but he never felt anything for any of them. Because he was only searching for his Shareek-e-Hayat.

And now, those very feelings have awakened only for Yusra so much so that, at any cost, he wants to make her his.

Uzair stood motionless on the bustling street, his eyes fixed on Yusra as she walked away with Aastha.

Her beautiful long raven hair swaing like a serpent with every sway of her hip. Her figure grew smaller with every step, but something inside him felt like she had taken his heart along with her.

That brief touch, her soft arms around him, her pleading hazel eyes, and that bold, innocent fire in her voice had ignited something deep and primal he had never felt before. Especially that one cuss “BHADWA!” that did something to her.

She had stormed into his world like a whirlwind and left him craving more.

Zaid stood beside him, arms crossed, watching his friend with barely contained amusement.

"Find out everything about her," Uzair ordered, his voice low and commanding, still staring in the direction she had disappeared. "Who she is, where she lives, everything."

Zaid smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he teased, "Don't worry. Within one hour, she will be in your bed."

Uzair turned sharply and glared at him, his dark eyes burning with intensity. "Watch your tongue, Zaid. You are talking about my would be Zauja."

Zaid chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Are you serious, man? You just saw her for the first time."

"I am damn serious," Uzair replied without hesitation, his tone deadly calm. "She is the one. She will be my Begum."

With that, the two men headed back to their luxurious penthouse suite in the heart of Lucknow, where they were staying for the next few days.

As soon as they entered the opulent room, Uzair wasted no time. He stripped off his clothes, tossing them aside carelessly, revealing his powerful, muscular body.

His broad chest, defined abs, and thick thighs spoke of disciplined strength. Without a word, he walked straight into the bathroom and turned on the cold shower, letting the icy water cascade over him.

But the cold did nothing to calm the fire raging inside him.

Yusra's innocent touch had driven him insane. He was painfully hard, his thick cock standing rigid and throbbing, veins pulsing along its length.

The cold water only made the ache sharper. Uzair gripped his heavy shaft in his large hand, wrapping his fingers tightly around the base as he closed his eyes.

The moment his eyes shut, her image flooded his mind.

There she was, Yusra, kneeling before him on the cold marble floor of the bathroom. Her hazel eyes looked up at him with that same innocent, pleading softness she had shown in the market.

But her full lips curved into a wicked, devilish smile, full of bold mischief that had captivated him in a single moment. That mix of purity and sheer audacity made his blood boil.

"Fuck," he growled under his breath.

In his imagination, she in still in that white chikankari suit that she was wearing in the market but now that suit us clinging to her body like a second skin because of the running water on her body. She stayed on her knees, gazing up at him through those long lashes while her small hands reached forward.

Uzair stroked himself slowly at first, his grip firm and rough, imagining her soft fingers replacing his own.

He pictured her parting those tempting lips that called him her boyfriend an hour ago, taking the swollen head of his cock into her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue swirled around the tip, teasing the sensitive underside as she sucked him deeper, her cheeks hollowing with effort.

She was bold even in his fantasy.

One hand pumped the thick base of his shaft while the other gently massaged his heavy balls. Her innocent eyes never left his face, watching every reaction as she bobbed her head, taking more of him until he hit the back of her throat.

She gagged softly but did not pull away, instead pushing forward with that same fiery determination she had shown when she slapped Fahad with her sandal.

Because that was the very moment she stole Uzair’s heart at first sight, the way she was beating Fahad in the middle of the road, without a shred of hesitation, calling him out Bhadwa without fear…

That was exactly the kind of girl he wanted, someone fearless and bold who knew how to protect herself, someone who didn’t need his protection all the time.

Uzair's hand moved faster now, stroking his cock with raw, urgent strokes. Water poured over his tense muscles as he leaned one hand against the tiled wall for support.

In his mind, Yusra pulled back slightly, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his glistening dick. She smiled up at him again, that mischievous grin full of challenge.

"Come on, Uzair," she whispered in his fantasy, her voice dripping with teasing sweetness. "Is this all you have for your future wife?"

And imagining his name from her lips in such a filthy context made him groan loudly.

He pumped harder, his fist sliding roughly up and down his throbbing length, twisting at the head on every upward stroke.

He imagined grabbing her hair, not too gently, guiding her mouth back onto him. She took him eagerly, sucking with wet, obscene sounds that echoed in his head.

Her tongue pressed flat against the underside of his shaft as she deepthroated him, her nose brushing against his pelvis.

His balls tightened, the pressure building fast and brutal.

He pictured her hazel eyes watering slightly from the stretch, tears of effort making them shine even brighter, but that bold smile never faded. She wanted this. She wanted him to lose control.

Uzair fucked her mouth in his imagination with deep, powerful thrusts, holding her head steady while she moaned around his cock, the vibrations shooting straight to his core.

"Fuck, Yusra," he muttered through gritted teeth, his real hand moving frantically now, slick with water and precum.

The fantasy intensified. She pulled off just long enough to beg, "Fill my mouth, please. I want to taste my future husband."

That was enough.

Uzair's entire body tensed. With a deep, guttural groan, he came hard, thick ropes of cum shooting out onto the shower floor as his cock pulsed violently in his grip.

He kept stroking through the orgasm, imagining her swallowing every drop while looking up at him with those victorious, satisfied eyes.

Even after the release, his chest heaved, and the ache did not fully disappear. The cold water continued to pour over him, but Yusra had already marked him.

He opened his eyes, breathing heavily, a dark, possessive smile forming on his lips.

She would be his.

No matter what it took, Yusra would become his wife, his queen, and he would claim every innocent and bold part of her.

Outside the bathroom, Zaid sat in the living area, still chuckling to himself while reading his book, knowing his friend had finally found the one woman who could bring the mighty Uzair Chaudhry to his knees.

On the other side of the city, totally unaware that somewhere a certain dangerous man was jerking himself while imagining her….

Yusra reached home.

She pushed the door open casually, still carrying that faint victorious energy from the evening and then froze.

In the living room her mother, Shabnam, stood there with arms crossed, waiting for her and beside her… A tiny complain box.

Zayan.

Standing with puffed cheeks, lips pushed out like a perfect little golgappa, arms folded, eyes narrowed at Yusra like she had personally ruined his entire existence.

Yusra’s eyes immediately narrowed back. As she knows that the mouse has spoken.

Shabnam’s voice came, calm but sharp. “Yusra.”

“Yes, Ammi,” she replied sweetly, already preparing herself for a long lecture.

“Why did you punish him like that?”

Yusra blinked innocently. “Punish who?”

Zayan gasped dramatically. “Me!”

Yusra looked at him slowly. “Oh. You.”

Shabnam sighed. “He is saying you did not let him draw the whole day.”

“And,” Zayan added, pointing an accusing finger, “she said I eat clayons!”

Yusra pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing.

Shabnam looked at her. “Did you say that?”

Yusra lifted her chin. “I said what he always does.”

Zayan’s eyes widened as he again repeated the same line. “I do not eat clayons!”

“You were about to,” Yusra shot back instantly.

“I was not!”

“You were thinking about it.”

“I was not thinking!”

“You always look suspicious around crayons.”

Zayan stomped his foot. “Dadi!”

Shabnam tried very hard to stay serious but failed slightly. Then looked at Yusra again. “Still, he is a child.”

“And I am his teacher in school,” Yusra replied calmly. “He stood on the chair, shouted in class calling that Bhadwa mammu mammu, and broke discipline.”

Zayan immediately gasped as she had committed a crime and Shabnam closed her eyes as well because she had told her thousand times not to call Fahad by that name but Yusra never listened to her.

“Phupho, that's a bad wold.” Zayan said as he looked at Shabnam, “Light, dadi? That's what you say?”

“Shut up! How many times have I told you he’s not your mammu in school?” She crossed her arms. “But you broke the rule and the punishment was no drawing. Actions have consequences.”

Zayan looked at Shabnam with big teary eyes. “Dadi…”

Shabnam sighed, clearly melting.

Yusra stepped forward immediately. “No,” she said. “No emotional blackmail.” Then she crouched down in front of him. “Tell me,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “will you shout in class again?”

Zayan shook his head instantly.

“Will you stand on chairs?”

Another quick head shake.

“Will you call him mammu in class again?”

He hesitated and Yusra narrowed her eyes.

“…No,” he whispered.

“Good boy,” she said, tapping his nose lightly then stood up. “Now go. Finish your homework.”

Zayan sniffed. “Dadi!” because he was watching his favorite cartoon.

“No TV,” Yusra replied immediately.

His face fell like the world had ended. “Dadi…”

Shabnam looked away this time, hiding her smile. “Finish your homework first.”

Betrayal. Complete betrayal. Zayan dragged his feet dramatically toward his room. Halfway, he turned again, still offended. “I do not eat clayons…”

Yusra crossed her arms. “Then prove it Monday.”

He frowned… then disappeared into his room and the moment he disappeared Shabnam looked at Yusra and both of them burst out laughing.

“You are impossible,” Shabnam said, shaking her head.

“And he is dramatic,” Yusra replied instantly.

“Just like you.”

“Genetics,” Yusra grinned.

Shabnam rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. “Go, change and come for dinner.”

“I had it already with Aastha.” She answered.

“And stop calling Fahad with that name.” Her mother started and that made her blood boil again.“Ammi! You don’t know how that creep behaves or how his mother tortures me at school,” Yusra snapped in irritation. “I swear, if I had told Abbu by now, he would’ve had him hung upside down and shut Phupho’s school completely. I’m only tolerating that mother-son duo because of my dear Bhabhijaan Zara, so please don’t take his side and mess with my head. He’s a bastard, and that’s that.”

With that, she stomped her feet and walked off toward her room, still muttering curses under her breath.

She pushed the door open with more force than necessary and froze for a second when she saw her Bhabhi, Zara, sitting comfortably on the bed, legs crossed, deeply absorbed in a book.

Zara looked up with a calm smile, but Yusra was already on fire.

Bhabhijaan?" Yusra started, throwing her bag on the chair. "How many times have I told you? Do not pick up my phone during your sex sessions! This is the fourth time you have done this nonsense. In the middle of that, why do you have to answer my calls? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?"

Zara blinked innocently, lowering the book slightly. "I thought it might be something urgent. Sorry."

Yusra narrowed her eyes but then grinned mischievously as she climbed onto the bed and sat beside her. "Anyway, forget that. Guess what I did today? I beat your brother in the middle of the market and also got him beaten by someone else."

Zara kept reading her book without even looking up properly. "You left him alive at least, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Yusra replied with a dramatic sigh.

Zara finally turned a page. "That is enough then."

Yusra was about to launch into full details of how she had dragged a stranger into the drama and how he had slapped Fahad when Zara suddenly closed the book with a soft thud and looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Okay, tell me this instead. When are you releasing the next book?"

Yusra's grin faltered and she glared at her. "If your mother stops ruining my weekends and eating my brain every single day, then maybe I can think and write something. Otherwise, I will just email the publisher and send whatever half-baked book I have."

Zara leaned back against the headboard, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Come on, Yusra. Do something. I am stuck in this one scene on loop and it is driving me crazy. I need more from Vincent and Venessa. Their chemistry is killing me."

Yusra rolled her eyes but could not hide her smirk. The book Zara was reading was one of her own secretly published that no one in the family knew about except Zara.

"More steamy moments?" Yusra asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly," Zara said, flipping the book open again and scanning the pages. "I want to know what happens when Vincent finally corners Venessa in that office after hours. The tension is too much. Give me the dirty details already."

Yusra chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You are impossible."

Zara turned another page, her voice casual but laced with mischief. "Sometimes I wonder how you write all this so well without any real experience. What is going to happen on your wedding night if your husband turns out to be even slightly less intense than these fictional men? Your life will be completely ruined. And that poor guy will have no idea what kind of expectations his wife has in bed."

Yusra's eyes widened in panic. She immediately clamped her hand over Zara's mouth, her face turning red.

"Bhabhijaan! What are you saying?" she hissed in a whisper. "What if someone hears? If anyone finds out that I write such books, they will issue a death warrant against me. My father will disown me on the spot!"

Zara burst out laughing behind Yusra's palm, her shoulders shaking with amusement. She gently pulled Yusra's hand away, still grinning.

"Relax, drama queen. No one is listening. Your secret is safe with me. But seriously, I am waiting for the next book. Make it hotter this time."

Yusra groaned and fell back on the bed, covering her face with a pillow while Zara continued to laugh softly, thoroughly enjoying her sister-in-law's miserable reaction.