When I say Samaksh Rathore and Dhvani Shukla hate each other, I don’t mean a little eye-roll or silent treatment kind of hate. I mean absolute, hard-core, blood-boiling hate. She’s from Uttar Pradesh, daughter of a powerful political family—full of drama, chaos, and zero fear. He’s from Rajasthan, heir to a wealthy business empire—swagger, charm, and sharp one-liners. Their worlds collided like firecrackers on Diwali. Their first meet? Vani stormed right in front of Samaksh’s brand-new car, screamed at him like he was the villain of her movie, and—just to seal her point—she threw a stone straight at his ride. Sam, of course, didn’t stay quiet. He roasted her so bad that the air was filled with insults louder than traffic horns. Their second meet? Worse. Another argument, another war. This time Sam threw the word “Bhagodi” at her, mocking the fact that she had run away from home. And Vani? She didn’t waste a second—her hand flew, and the slap echoed louder than their shouting. Now, just the sight of each other makes their blood boil. If looks could kill, Sam and Vani would have destroyed each other long ago. Enemies isn’t even the word… these two are living, breathing disasters waiting to explode.