wild relation with brother in law

Gurgaon Central Jail A man walked out of the Central Jail—his height well over six feet, his looks strikingly handsome. He had just been released. The first thing he did after stepping outside was stretch his arms wide and look up at the sky. Just then, a guard at the jail glanced at him and said, "After ten long years, how does it feel to finally see the sunlight again?" The man turned his head and looked at the guard—just one intense look was enough to make the guard lower his eyes in silence. Stretching again, the man began to walk forward and muttered in a low, firm voice, "I’ve come full circle… back to where it all began. Now I must start again… from the very same place." His words carried weight. Another guard, watching quietly, nudged the first one and asked, "Why did you go quiet? You usually talk a lot to prisoners when they’re released." The first guard replied coldly, "You don’t know who he is? He’s been locked inside for ten years… for murder." The second guard’s eyes widened in shock. "Murder? If that was proven, then how could he be released in just ten years? How could that even be possible?" The first guard said nothing more. Outside the gates, a black Mercedes was waiting. A man stepped out of it, bowed slightly with his hands folded in respect, and said, "Master, forgive me… I’m a little late." The tall man shot him a cold, angry look, said nothing, and silently slid into the back seat. The other man quickly got behind the wheel and started the engine. The Mercedes had barely gone a short distance when loud shouts erupted ahead. "Mr. Raichand! Mr. Raichand, please step out of the car!" Hearing this, Mr. Raichand—who had just walked free from prison—rolled down the window and leaned his face out. What he saw left even the driver stunned: a massive crowd of people had gathered, holding garlands of flowers, bright marigold lights, decorated plates, and countless other offerings—all waiting only for Raichand. As soon as he stepped out, the people showered him with garlands and petals. From the outside, no one could have guessed he was once branded a murderer. The celebration brought traffic to a complete standstill, but no one dared to move forward. Amidst all this chaos, a young woman sat stuck in her car, glancing at her wristwatch again and again. Sweat trickled down her forehead as her patience frayed. Finally, frustrated, she turned her head and spotted a vendor on the roadside selling fresh coconut water. She got off her scooter, left her helmet on the seat, and quietly began sipping coconut water. Her head was pounding with frustration, while Raichand, on the other side, was basking in nothing but popularity. Everyone around him had their phones out, recording videos, capturing the moment as though he were some kind of hero. Watching this, the girl twisted her lips in annoyance—it was clear she had no interest whatsoever in seeing Raichand. Just then, a man in the crowd shouted angrily, "To welcome a murderer, you’ve blocked the entire road! People are stuck here—some need to get to the hospital, others are late for their offices!" At those words, Raichand slowly turned his head. Only his eyes were visible, bloodshot, the veins pulsing with rage. His pulse tightened; in an instant, one of his men grabbed the protester, dragging him forward and shoving him right before Raichand. Without a second thought, Raichand seized the man by the throat, his grip iron-tight, and snarled, "No one has ever dared raise their voice in front of Ekagra Raichand!" The man gasped, his face turning a sickly shade of blue as Raichand’s fingers dug deeper into his neck. The girl froze in shock. For the first time in her life, she had witnessed something this terrifying—Ekagra lifting a full-grown man off the ground with just one hand, his grip choking the life out of him. Her own coconut water nearly got stuck in her throat. Heart racing, she rushed closer, muttering under her breath, "Oh God, he’s going to kill him… Banke Bihari, what should I do now?" She looked around desperately—so many men stood there, but not a single one dared to intervene. Frustrated, she kept glancing between the half-finished coconut in her hand and Ekagra throttling the man. Finally, she made up her mind. She raised the coconut high, aimed carefully, and hurled it straight at Ekagra’s head. The coconut smacked hard against his skull, making him stagger. His grip loosened instantly, and the man fell to the ground, gasping for air. Ekagra nearly collapsed, but his men quickly caught him, steadying their master. The girl, meanwhile, was furiously dusting off her hands, her eyes blazing. The sight left the crowd trembling—every pair of hands and feet shook in fear. Ekagra’s gaze locked onto the girl with deadly precision, while she shouted out loud, "What’s the point of blocking traffic like this?" Then, turning sharply toward the crowd, she commanded, "Clear out of here—NOW!" Her words were enough. Engines roared to life; cars and bikes scrambled out, and the crowd dispersed to the sides, terrified. The girl hurried back to her scooter. Every man’s eyes followed her as she pushed her way through the frightened gathering, deliberately steering straight in front of Ekagra. Just as she was about to pass him, Ekagra reached out, trying to grab her hand. But she yanked it away. In the scuffle, her dupatta slipped into his grasp. She struggled to free it, tugging hard, but Ekagra’s fingers refused to let go. To be continued ✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️✍️