Chapter 4

Kenan must have realized what I was getting at, for he turned toward me in a fit of rage, breathing heavily. He clearly hadn't expected me to speak, as his eyes had widened. "Shut your mouth," he commanded, as if he weren't already dictating my life. I didn't pay him the slightest attention. Perhaps he saw himself as a father figure and expected me to cower under his authority, but he was dead wrong. I don't know how he could still believe such nonsense after all these years. "Why... who are you?" I asked, my voice remarkably calm. I wanted him to understand that his words held no weight for me. My refusal to submit made his face grow even redder, and I was genuinely beginning to enjoy myself. He didn't know me, and he held no power over me. He was about to find that out. No one could force me to do anything against my will—especially not this creature in human form standing before me.

He turned his entire body toward me and shouted, saliva flying from his mouth, "I said, shut your mouth!" Even if I didn't show it, his looming presence was intimidating. Usually, I wouldn't have cared if he screamed all day, but I was surrounded by his men, and I was all alone. Determined not to break, I stared him down and shouted back, "Who are you to try and silence me?" I kept repeating the same phrases because I knew it infuriated him, and it worked. I stood up; I didn't want to look like I had cowered out of fear. As he glared at me with pure venom, I returned his gaze with indifference, refusing to blink. Still, playing it smart, I began to widen the distance between us. Before he could speak, I cut him off: "Who are you to make decisions about my life?" I stepped forward, leaving a safe distance. Silence fell over the entire garden; everyone was watching us like a scene in a movie, trying to make sense of the chaos. The fact that Kenan had a daughter had clearly sent a shockwave through the mansion. These large, intimidating men had stopped talking, questioning my very existence or the truth they had just stumbled upon.

Kenan retreated slightly. I had expected him to lunge at me. Instead, he said in a booming voice, emphasizing every word, "I am your father. You will do as I say." Under different circumstances—if he had been struggling financially or if my mother had passed away and he was unable to care for a young child—perhaps I could have forgiven him. But those were not the reasons he had abandoned his own flesh and blood. He had discarded me because I was a girl, and he had begrudged me a simple spoonful of food. I didn't even know if calling him a man was right.

I let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Father? Don't make me laugh," I said coldly. "You should have thought about being a father before you abandoned me. Did you only just remember now?" Despite my laughter, I was certain that, unlike my tone, fire was literally erupting from my eyes. Kenan turned his head and ignored me. Looking toward the upper balcony, he declared, "The Marriage Agreement will happen." His persistence was pushing me to the brink; I was about to explode. I ignored him too and addressed those above directly. "It will not happen. I have no intention of marrying anyone. Solve your own problems; don't drag me into your dirty business."

Kenan finally lost control; he stormed over and grabbed my arm, squeezing with all his might. He shoved me away and pointed to the child covered in blood. He leaned toward my ear and hissed, "That boy is my son. He kidnapped that girl, and so that blood isn't spilled, and so my son isn't killed, you will marry that girl's brother."

What a scoundrel. His only concern was still his precious son. I let anger take the wheel; I yanked my arm from his grip with such force that it startled him. This was the final straw. I shoved him hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back.

My voice remained eerily calm, considering what I had just done. I moved closer to Kenan. "Your son means absolutely nothing to me," I said, looking him straight in the eyes. I continued even louder, "You were obsessed with your son then, and you are obsessed with him now. Neither you nor your sons matter to me. I will not pay the price for his irresponsibility. Whether he lives or dies is none of my concern. If he had the courage to kidnap a girl, he should have the manhood to face the consequences." I shouted at him, "You are a pathetic man!"

My hands were trembling with rage. I stepped back and turned to those on the balcony. "Kill him or let him live; I am neither this man’s daughter nor that idiot’s sister. Do not involve me in your bloody business," I declared, panting. "I will not pay for his mistakes." As I took deep breaths to steady myself, a stinging slap landed on my left cheek, sending me to the ground. Kenan had struck me. I held my burning cheek, rubbing it slowly. It hurt—the scoundrel. It was burning fiercely.

Then, the voice of the young man with eyes like burning embers rang out. "Kenan!" he shouted, emphasizing the name. He raced down the stairs and shoved Kenan away from me. If he had only crushed him then, my anger might have been satisfied. With that push, the men in the garden split into two factions. Those who came with us stood behind Kenan, while those already in the garden sided with this angry man. Almost all of them had their hands on their holsters. The younger one among them helped me up.

Pointing at me with one hand while standing behind the others, he whispered toward Kenan, "The girl says you aren't her father." His voice was incredibly calm, given his stance and breathing. He was clearly holding back. That level of control was terrifying.

Kenan, sounding panicked, pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it to the man. It seemed he didn't want the tension to escalate further, or perhaps he was genuinely intimidated by this man, who was around his son's age. Julian—for that was his name—took the paper, read it calmly, then turned to me, his gaze sweeping over me.

"The DNA test is positive," he addressed me. When had they even managed that? The scoundrel had thought of everything.

I didn't reach for the paper. "This scrap of paper explains nothing. He left me at an orphanage when I was a month old just because I was born a girl. That day, his fatherhood ended. I will not marry anyone for the sake of the son of a man I haven't seen in years." He slowly shifted his gaze to mine.

His eyes were a dark, forest green. He wasn't as angry as before, and his breathing had steadied. Had the paper in his hand calmed him down? Did he think I would agree to marry him? He could only dream. What were these people on? One pops up after years and claims to be my father, and the other blindly jumps on the idea of marriage.

He still seemed unable to believe the paper in his hand. "But you are his daughter... the same blood," he said. A laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "What blood? It’s just a biological medium that allowed me to be born, like anyone else’s." To me, that man had no value; how could I make them understand? I am not his daughter.

He was looking at me deeper now. I wasn't even sure if he was really seeing me. It was as if someone trapped in darkness had finally seen a light. I didn't break eye contact. The surroundings remained silent; it was as if only the two of us existed in the entire garden. "Ultimately, you are his daughter... his daughter," he said, emphasizing the words. He wasn't talking to me; he was struggling to digest the truth. I stepped closer, closing the distance between us.

Our faces were inches apart. "Even if that were true, he has no authority over me. I am 22 years old, and I will never marry anyone. No power in this world can force me to marry without my consent," I said, inhaling deeply. "And I don't want this," I finished, quiet but firm. I was absolutely certain of myself. He must have sensed it, as he didn't reply. We stood there, looking at each other for a long time. In reality, I was looking at him, while he was looking at everything but me.

Then, suddenly, Julian moved. He grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the exit. I couldn't understand what he was doing. He shoved Kenan aside with his free hand, and the others parted ways. Everyone was staring at us. They were as shocked as I was that Julian was dragging me out of the garden. We stepped outside. I was literally being dragged. He shoved me into one of the cars at the gate, walked around, and sat in the front seat. The car moved so fast that all the sentences I wanted to say got stuck in my throat.

Finally, catching my breath, I asked, "Where... where are you taking me?"

He didn't even look at me. His eyes remained on the road. "We are going to talk," he snapped. I didn't say anything. I leaned against the window and turned my gaze outside. I caught my reflection in the side mirror; my face was a mess from crying. I had worn makeup for school, but now it was smeared all over my face. My mascara had turned my entire face black. I was in a terrible state.

I wiped under my eyes as best as I could with my hand. As if he had been waiting for this, he slid a wet wipe toward me. The car was still moving very fast; I had been kidnapped, yet I was acting as if my makeup was the only thing that mattered. I took a wipe from the pack and scrubbed my face. I felt better as I got cleaner. Although it wasn't very hot, the cold, wet feel of the wipe was refreshing after such heated moments. It brought me back to my senses.

We traveled in silence for a while. Everything looked the same. We had arrived at a wooded area, like a picnic spot. Was this where he wanted to make sure no one could hear us? Where were we? As soon as the car stopped, he jumped out without even turning off the engine. He paced back and forth in front of the car. I assumed he was waiting for me to get out too. I looked at him, took a deep breath, and reached for the door. I stepped out of the still-running car.