The NEXUS jet touched down smoothly on the private runway at Rajiv Gandhi International Airport in Hyderabad. The jet engines spooled down, winding into silence.
The heavy cabin door opened. Siddanth and Krithika stepped out into the familiar, warm air of the city.
Waiting on the tarmac, parked directly next to the private hangar, was the massive, custom Royal Blue Rolls-Royce Phantom VII. The afternoon sun hit the polished chrome grille, reflecting brightly.
Rahul was standing next to the vehicle. He opened the heavy rear door for Krithika.
"Welcome back, Boss. Welcome back, Madam," Rahul greeted them efficiently.
Siddanth did not get into the back seat. He walked to the driver's side.
"I will drive," Siddanth told the logistics driver standing near the front fender.
The driver handed Siddanth the keys and stepped away. Siddanth slid into the driver's seat. The interior of the Phantom was massive, heavily insulated, and smelled of rich tan leather and polished mahogany.
"Rahul," Siddanth called out through the open window. "The cargo hold."
"I am handling it, Boss," Rahul assured him, looking at the massive cargo door of the jet opening. "The logistics team has a separate transport truck waiting for the anime statues, the swords, and the shopping bags. We will bring them directly to the estate storage facility."
Siddanth nodded. He pressed the ignition button. The massive V12 engine started with a barely audible hum.
He put the vehicle in drive and steered the Phantom out of the private hangar area. The car floated over the tarmac. The suspension system completely absorbed every imperfection in the road.
They exited the airport and merged onto the main highway toward Shamshabad.
Siddanth drove carefully. The Phantom was significantly longer and wider than his usual SUV. He navigated the traffic, heading directly toward the private gates of the Shamshabad estate.
The heavy iron gates opened automatically as the security scanners recognized the vehicle. Siddanth drove up the winding driveway and parked the massive blue car in the circular drop-off zone in front of the main house.
They stepped out of the vehicle.
The front double doors of the house were wide open. Vikram Deva and Sesikala were standing on the front steps, waiting for them.
Sesikala was holding a round brass plate. Sitting on the plate was a small mound of wet red kumkum and a piece of burning camphor.
"Stop right there," Sesikala instructed as Siddanth and Krithika walked up the steps.
They stopped just before the threshold.
Sesikala lifted the brass plate. She moved it in a slow, clockwise circle in front of them, repeating the motion three times. It was the traditional Aarti, designed to ward off any negative energy they might have picked up during their international travels.
Once the Aarti was complete, Sesikala set the plate down on a side table. She reached out with her thumb and pressed a small red dot of kumkum onto Krithika's forehead, then placed one on Siddanth's forehead.
"Welcome home," Sesikala smiled warmly. "Place your right foot inside first."
Siddanth and Krithika stepped forward simultaneously. They lifted their right feet and crossed the wooden threshold, officially entering their home.
"Go wash up and change," Vikram Deva said, patting Siddanth's shoulder. "We will be in the living room."
Siddanth and Krithika walked upstairs to the master suite. They unpacked their immediate carry-on bags, took quick showers to wash off the fatigue of the long flight, and changed into comfortable, everyday cotton clothes.
Siddanth grabbed a large, heavy bag from his luggage pile. He carried it downstairs.
They walked into the living room. Vikram Deva was sitting in his armchair reading a newspaper. Sesikala was sitting on the sofa.
Siddanth unzipped the bag. They had spent their final day in Osaka buying specific, high-end gifts for their parents.
Krithika pulled out a large, heavy, intricately carved wooden box. She handed it to Sesikala.
"We found this in Kyoto," Krithika explained as Sesikala opened the latch. "It is an authentic, hand-crafted cast-iron tea set. The cups are hand-painted ceramic."
Sesikala inspected the heavy iron teapot and the delicate ceramic cups. She ran her fingers over the smooth glaze. "This is beautiful, Krithika. The craftsmanship is flawless."
Siddanth reached into the bag and pulled out a sleek, rectangular box. He handed it to his father.
Vikram Deva opened it. Inside was a high-end, limited-edition Japanese mechanical watch. The dial featured a subtle, textured pattern resembling traditional bamboo weaving.
"Grand Seiko," Vikram Deva noted, impressed by the specific movement and the clean design. He took it out of the box and fastened it around his wrist. "It is very light. Excellent choice, Siddanth."
They sat down in the living room. Sesikala brought out a tray of hot tea and snacks.
"So," Vikram Deva asked, closing his newspaper. "How was Japan? Did you actually relax, or did Siddanth drag you to every electronics market in Tokyo?"
"He went to the electronics markets," Krithika confirmed, taking a sip of her tea. "But Kyoto was very relaxing. We visited Kiyomizu-dera and the Golden Pavilion. The traditional architecture is brilliant."
"We also visited Nara," Siddanth added, leaning back on the sofa. "The historical capital. They have wild deer roaming the public parks."
Krithika set her teacup down. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. A wide, mischievous smile spread across her face.
"They were very friendly deer," Krithika said, unlocking her phone and opening the video gallery. "I actually recorded Siddanth interacting with them."
Siddanth narrowed his eyes. "Do not show them that video."
"I am showing them the video," Krithika countered immediately, turning the phone screen toward Vikram Deva and Sesikala. She hit play.
The video started. Vikram and Sesikala watched the screen closely.
They saw Siddanth holding the large stack of wheat crackers. They saw the deer bow respectfully. Then, the video captured the exact moment the twelve deer launched their coordinated ambush.
Vikram Deva saw a deer bite the bottom of his son's t-shirt. He saw another deer plant its front hooves directly onto Siddanth's chest.
Then, the video showed Siddanth turning around and sprinting across the grass, running for his life from a herd of petting-zoo animals, before desperately throwing the crackers like a grenade.
Vikram Deva burst into loud, completely unrestrained laughter. He leaned back in his armchair, laughing so hard he had to put his teacup down.
Sesikala covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
"You ran away," Vikram Deva managed to say, pointing at his son. "You face fast bowlers throwing leather balls at one hundred and fifty kilometers an hour without a helmet, but you ran away from a deer."
"It was a tactical retreat," Siddanth defended himself, maintaining his entirely serious expression. "They executed a highly coordinated flanking maneuver. They used numbers to trap me. Retreating was the only logical survival strategy."
"He threw the food like a grenade," Krithika pointed out, replaying the exact moment on the screen.
"I have another video," Krithika continued, swiping to the next file. "This one is from the bamboo grove in Arashiyama."
"Krithika," Siddanth warned again.
She hit play.
The parents watched the video of the large Japanese macaque monkey sitting on the fence. They watched Siddanth stare the monkey down, establishing dominance. Then, the monkey executed the flawless fake-out jump, completely outmaneuvering Siddanth and snatching the sweet melon bread directly out of his hand.
Vikram Deva laughed even harder, wiping a tear from his eye. "It faked you out! A monkey executed a dummy run on you!"
"It had the high ground," Siddanth argued, crossing his arms over his chest. "I blocked the initial angle. It used the fence as a rebound point. It was an unpredictable trajectory."
"You lost a territorial dispute to a fifteen-pound primate," Vikram Deva concluded, highly amused. "Do not tell Virat Kohli about this. He will never let you live it down."
"If Sameer sees this footage, it will be broadcasted on national television," Sesikala agreed, smiling widely.
They spent the next hour talking, drinking tea, and laughing at Siddanth's complete lack of success against Japanese wildlife. The house was comfortable and warm.
The next morning, Siddanth and Krithika prepared to visit her family.
Siddanth walked into the garage and unlocked the white Maruti Swift. It was the same, completely ordinary hatchback he used to move around the city undetected.
They got into the Swift. Siddanth drove out of the Shamshabad estate and headed toward the city center.
The drive took one hour. They crossed the city and entered the neighborhood of Tarnaka.
Siddanth navigated the narrow, familiar streets. He parked the white Swift neatly near Krithika's family home.
He turned off the engine. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a simple, unbranded black baseball cap. He pulled the cap down low over his eyes.
They reached the front gate of the Rao household. Krithika opened the iron gate. They walked up the short pathway and knocked on the front door.
The door opened immediately.
Subba Rao was standing there. A wide, bright smile spread across his face.
"Krithika," Subba Rao said, stepping back to let them in. "Come in, come in."
Suma walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She hurried forward and hugged her daughter tightly.
"You look tired," Suma observed instantly, checking Krithika's face. "Was the flight very long?"
"It was fine, Amma," Krithika smiled, stepping back.
Siddanth took off his black baseball cap, instantly dropping the slouched posture and returning to his normal height.
"Hello, Mama. Hello, Athama," Siddanth greeted them, folding his hands respectfully.
"Siddanth, welcome," Subba Rao said, patting his arm. "Sit down. Both of you."
They walked into the living room and sat down on the familiar sofa.
Krithika looked around the room. The house was very quiet.
"Where is Anjali?" Krithika asked.
"She went out to a cafe to meet her friends," Suma explained, walking back toward the kitchen. "She should be back any minute. I will bring tea."
While Suma was in the kitchen, Krithika opened the bag they had brought with them. She pulled out the gifts they had purchased in Japan for her parents.
She handed a long, rectangular box to her father. Subba Rao opened it. Inside was a set of extremely high-end, custom-forged Japanese cooking knives from a master blacksmith in Sakai. The folded steel blades were incredibly sharp, featuring a beautiful Damascus pattern.
"These are magnificent," Subba Rao said, carefully inspecting the blade. He loved to cook, and the quality of the steel was obvious. "Thank you, Siddanth."
"Krithika picked them out," Siddanth noted smoothly.
Suma returned with a tray of hot tea and a plate of traditional snacks. Krithika handed her a beautifully wrapped box. Inside was a heavy, pure silk Japanese scarf featuring a subtle, elegant crane motif, along with a set of premium skincare serums.
Suma loved the silk immediately, running her fingers over the smooth fabric.
They drank tea and ate the snacks, talking about the flight and the weather in Tokyo.
An hour later, the front iron gate screeched open loudly.
Heavy, rapid footsteps hit the pathway. The front door swung open with a massive push.
Anjali rushed into the house. She had seen the white Maruti Swift parked outside and instantly knew who was inside.
"Krithi!" Anjali squealed loudly, dropping her handbag onto a chair and running directly toward the sofa.
She threw her arms around Krithika, hugging her tightly. "I missed you! The house is so boring without you here."
"I missed you too," Krithika laughed, hugging her sister back.
Anjali pulled back. She turned and looked at Siddanth sitting on the other end of the sofa.
Anjali crossed her arms over her chest. She stood tall, mimicking a highly dramatic, cinematic posture.
"Bavagaru, bagunnara?" Anjali delivered the line perfectly.
It was a famous dialogue from a classic Telugu movie, used specifically by the sister-in-law to tease the new brother-in-law.
Siddanth understood the cultural reference immediately. He smiled, leaning back on the sofa.
"Yes, Anjali," Siddanth replied smoothly, playing along with her. "I am fine. How are you?"
"I am surviving," Anjali sighed, dropping the dramatic posture and collapsing into the single armchair opposite them.
"How are the fifth-semester exams coming along?" Siddanth asked.
Anjali groaned loudly, throwing her head back against the chair. "Do not even ask about it. It is a complete disaster. My entire attention was on the wedding preparations for the last month. I haven't opened a single textbook. I am just hoping to pass the papers and get it over with."
Siddanth laughed softly. "Well, you enjoyed the marriage. Now you have to suffer the consequences."
Anjali narrowed her eyes at him. A highly unethical, desperate idea suddenly formed in her head. She leaned forward in her chair, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
"Bava," Anjali started, using the term for brother-in-law. "You have massive connections. Do you know anyone at the university board? Can you get me the question paper before the exam?"
Siddanth paused.
"No."
Krithika shut the operation down instantly.
She did not wait for Siddanth to answer. She knew exactly what he was capable of doing.
"Absolutely not," Krithika stated firmly, glaring at Siddanth to ensure he didn't offer any assistance. She turned to Anjali. "You are going to open your books and study. No question paper leaks."
"Hey, no fair!" Anjali argued defensively, pointing an accusing finger at Krithika. "You cheated in your final exams! You copied Bava's paper!"
"That is a completely different scenario," Krithika replied, entirely unbothered by the accusation.
"How is it different?" Anjali demanded. "Cheating is cheating!"
Krithika adjusted her posture, preparing to deliver a flawless, pragmatic logical argument.
"You also copy from someone's paper when the invigilator looks away," Krithika pointed out accurately. "You don't need a massive system leak to do that. It is individual risk."
"So?"
"So," Krithika explained patiently, "if you get caught copying from the person sitting next to you, only you are implicated. You fail the paper. It is an isolated incident. But if you get caught orchestrating a high-level digital question paper leak, the entire university system is compromised. The exams get canceled. Every single student gets affected, and you face criminal charges. The risk-to-reward ratio of a full leak is fundamentally flawed."
Anjali stared at her older sister. She opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn't find a single logical flaw in the explanation.
Siddanth nodded slightly in silent agreement. Her risk analysis was entirely accurate.
"I know, I know," Anjali muttered, waving her hand dismissively. "I was just joking anyway. I will study."
The front door opened again. Subba Rao walked in holding two heavy plastic bags from the local butcher.
"I got the meat," Subba Rao announced, walking directly toward the kitchen.
Suma stood up immediately and followed him. "I will start the curry."
The smell of roasting spices, garlic, and ginger soon filled the small house. Suma was preparing her signature Mutton Curry, a heavy, rich, highly spiced dish that Krithika loved.
While the curry was simmering on the stove, Krithika pulled the second bag onto her lap.
"I have your gifts," Krithika told Anjali.
Anjali sat up straight, her eyes wide. "Did you get the list?"
"I got the list," Krithika confirmed.
While on the plane, when Krithika told Anjali they were going to Japan, Anjali had handed Krithika a highly specific, detailed list of Japanese stationery, skincare, and specific snacks she wanted.
Krithika pulled the items out. She handed Anjali a pack of premium, imported gel pens, high-end highlighters, and three different types of specialized matcha chocolates.
"That was the list," Krithika said. "But Siddanth decided to add a few things."
Krithika reached deeper into the bag. She pulled out three folded dresses from the high-end boutiques in Shinsaibashi. She handed them to Anjali. Then, she pulled out a box containing a pair of designer shoes. Finally, she pulled out a sleek, authentic designer handbag.
Anjali stared at the massive pile of luxury goods sitting on her lap. She looked at the designer handbag, running her fingers over the leather.
She looked up at Siddanth.
"Thank you, bava," Anjali said, her voice filled with genuine shock.
"You are welcome," Siddanth replied calmly.
Anjali carefully placed the designer bags and dresses on the table. She looked back at Siddanth, remembering a very specific conversation from marriage day.
"Speaking of gifts," Anjali started, a sly smile returning to her face. "Where are my Joota Chupai gifts?"
Siddanth nodded. He had not forgotten the shoe extortion demands.
"Did you select which car you wanted?" Siddanth asked, leaning forward slightly.
"Nope," Anjali shook her head freely. "I don't know anything about cars. I just know I want a Mercedes. It is up to you to decide which model I should drive."
Siddanth thought for a moment. He ran through the current Mercedes-Benz lineup in the Indian market. He immediately discarded the sports cars and the sedans. Anjali was a young college student driving in Hyderabad traffic; she needed safety and visibility, not speed.
"You will get a Mercedes-Benz GLS 350d," Siddanth stated decisively. "It is the full-size flagship luxury SUV — much larger and more imposing than the GLE. It sits high off the ground, has advanced air suspension that glides over city potholes, and offers the highest level of structural safety and protection in a crash scenario."
"A massive SUV?" Anjali asked, trying to visualize the car. "Isn't it hard to park?"
"It has a 360-degree camera system and active parking assist," Siddanth countered smoothly. "You do not even have to steer. The car will park itself."
Anjali's eyes lit up. "Perfect. I want it."
"I will take care of the paperwork tomorrow morning," Siddanth confirmed. "I will have Rahul contact the primary dealership in Jubilee Hills. Given the specific model and the customization requirements, it will take fourteen business days for the vehicle to be delivered to this house."
"Fourteen days," Anjali repeated, nodding happily. "I can wait."
"What about the Europe trip?" Anjali pushed further, checking off her extortion list. "Riya and others are already asking me for the dates."
"The dates are conditional," Siddanth stated firmly.
"Conditional on what?"
"You just admitted you haven't studied for your fifth-semester exams," Siddanth reminded her, crossing his arms. "The trip is delayed. After you successfully pass your sixth-semester exams next year, you can go to Europe. Not before."
Anjali pouted slightly, but she knew better than to argue with the timeline. He was buying her a luxury SUV and funding a massive international vacation; she could handle studying for her final exams.
"Deal," Anjali agreed.
"Lunch is ready!" Suma called out from the dining area.
They all stood up and walked to the dining table. Subba Rao had set the plates. Suma brought out a massive bowl of steaming white rice and the heavy, dark red mutton curry.
They sat around the table. Suma served the food generously, piling extra pieces of tender mutton onto Siddanth and Krithika's plates.
"Eat," Suma instructed. "You have lost weight from all the traveling."
They ate the hot, spicy food. The conversation flowed easily around the table. Subba Rao talked about the local news. Siddanth listened quietly, offering brief comments, completely comfortable in the small dining room.
Once they finished eating, they moved back to the living room.
Krithika pulled her phone out. She spent the next hour showing Anjali all the pictures from their Japan tour. She showed her the massive bamboo groves, the neon lights of Osaka, and the ancient temples.
Then, she opened the video gallery.
She showed Anjali the video of Siddanth sprinting away from the deer, and the video of the monkey executing the flawless dummy run.
Anjali laughed so hard she fell off the armchair onto the carpet.
"I am saving this," Anjali gasped, sending the videos directly to her own phone. "This is premium blackmail material."
Siddanth did not try to stop her. He just shook his head.
By late afternoon, it was time to leave.
Siddanth and Krithika stood up. They hugged Suma and Anjali. Subba Rao patted Siddanth's shoulder.
"Come visit whenever you have time," Subba Rao said.
"We will, Mamayya," Siddanth promised.
They walked out of the house and got into the white Maruti Swift. Siddanth started the engine. He pulled the black baseball cap down low over his eyes and engaged the slouched, generic posture before driving down the street.
They navigated through the city traffic, leaving Tarnaka behind.
The transition from the small, bustling household back to their massive, heavily guarded estate was seamless. They drove through the secure iron gates of Shamshabad.
Siddanth parked the Swift in the garage. They walked into the quiet, massive living room of the main house.
The rituals were over. The honeymoons were done. The visits were complete.
They were finally alone in their own home, ready to begin the normal, quiet routine of their married life.