
The rain pounded against the windows of the sprawling family home like an unrelenting drumbeat, mirroring the tension that had been building for the past week. Rafiq, Ibrahim, and Zain—the identical triplets at thirty-two years old—lounged in the living room, their muscular frames sprawled across the leather sofas. They were built like warriors, broad shoulders and thick arms honed from years of gym sessions and family expectations. Her parents had asked his parents to take care of Inaya before jetting off to Dubai for three months for work. Inaya, the twenty-one-year-old step-cousin from their aunt's second marriage husband daughter, had been calling them 'bhaijaan' since she arrived, a term that grated on their nerves like nails on chalkboard. They weren't her brothers, and the way her eyes lingered on them sometimes made their blood boil with something far darker than familial annoyance. Now there parents had asked them to take care of their sister till they come back from the unexpected emergency.









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