Ibrahim's POV

I surprised gasp, as my father noticed. Wahaj remained silent as if she came here forcefully, with her eyes glued to the floor, willing herself not to look up at my face.

"Wahaj?" I spoke then, stepping one step nearer to her as I reached out to touch her face.

She looked up at me at that point, her eyes meeting mine and I sensed that we both could feel a jolt as our intense connection flaring out around us in that second our eyes held each other.

My fingers were just a few inches from her face when she jumped back and recoiled with horror.

"Ibrahim! Do you know this girl? Is what this man saying is true?" My father asked, his voice rising.

"Yes, I know her. I didn't know that man, but I know her. Perhaps we should all go into the study to discuss this...situation," I suggested, my eyes glued to her face, wondering why she didn't look up at me again as she returned to staring at the floor.

It wasn't like Wahaj to be so quiet. If it was possible, she looked even paler than before. Suddenly she snapped her head up and looked at me.

"Excuse me, where's the bathroom? I have to throw up!" she blurted out as she clasped her palm over her mouth.

Alarmed, he pointed to a door at the end of the foyer, next to the staircase and he watched as she sprinted into it.

Fifteen minutes later, a shaken and green-toned figure slowly walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

I had waited for her at the base of the staircase. I was intending to check how she was doing and what was going on here.

"Are you alright? Do you need some water or a napkin?" I asked in concern, letting my eyes examine her pale skin, the dark circles under her eyes and her shaking hands.

"No, I'm fine. Where's my grandma and Ayaaz?" she enquired, refusing to meet my gaze.

"What is going on, Wahaj ?" I asked in distress.

She refused to answer as she stood still, so I answered her question. "If you are referring to the caveman as Ayaaz, then they are in the study, his eyes probably shooting daggers at my parents. Shall we join them?" I asked.

"Yes," she nodded, eagerly as if she was unable to bear another moment alone with me.

"Okay, follow me," I indicated to her, longing to touch her arm to support her when she looked so weak, but she didn't seem like she would welcome any kind of contact from me whatsoever.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the study room as Wahaj, and I walked in. She hurried over to take a seat beside her grandmother on a leather sofa, while Ayaaz remained standing with his arms crossed defensively around his chest. I walked over to my parents, also seated down on a similar sofa opposite Wahaj and her grandmother. Nobody spoke for a moment until my father cleared his throat and started.

"I'm Ismail, and this my wife, Nermin. You all know Ibrahim. What are your names?" My father started saying almost cordially.

"I'm Ayaaz Mustafa, Wahaj's cousin and that's Ghada, her grandmother. Now, can we cut the crap and move on ?" Ayaaz, supposedly, said, his eyes glaring at me.

At the name, Wahaj my father's eyes narrowed.

My father stares back at me, "Don't tell me this is Wahaj, the same Wahaj." My father asks, almost ready to explode as my mother looks at me with confusion.

"Yes, Yes it is," Ayaaz said, "She was Kerem's wife, and now she is Ibrahim's wife," He mocked, "She just doesn't want to leave this family," He looks at Wahaj who seemed to glare at him, but maintains her calmness.

If he was her cousin, why did he had so much control and why does he seem angry ?

"You storm into my house, make wild accusations about my son, and you dare to come into my house with this girl with you? You have no idea who you're dealing with," his voice raised slightly with a thin veil of threat.

"How could you, oğlum (Son)?!" My mother shouted after a long silence. "After everything, this girl has caused your sister." She sounded disappointed.

I didn't answer; I couldn't.

They were right...

"This girl WILL not enter my house!" My father declared, "and you should leave before Mellisa's see you, and she relapses." My mother spoke.

Wahaj was the first one to stand while her grandmother sat there without a voice and Ayaaz kept on responding to the accusations, but I didn't hear him, I was too distracted by Wahaj's calmness.

"In a week, she will be twenty-one," Her grandmother talked for the first time since they entered, "This family hadn't given my grandbaby anything but misery, so I don't think I want her to go through this, but that bastard of a son of yours married her."

"Your daughter accepted," My mother began to accuse, "She didn't get money from Kerem and drove him to his grave, and now she wants to drive my son to the grave and get his money," She attacked Wahaj.

Wahaj was still standing, "Just like I didn't take anything from Kerem, I won't take anything from your family! I want to go home!" Wahaj burst out.

She surprised everyone.

"You shut the hell up, Wahaj! I'm trying to fix your mistakes, so why don't you be quiet?" Ayaaz yelled at her.

"Yes, they are my mistakes, mine alone! You're not trying to help me; you're just guiding your anger toward them! So, leave these people alone, I'm done! I'm going home. I'll settle my problems from now on," Wahaj declared angrily as she stood up and started walking towards the door.

"Don't leave Wahaj, or I swear" Her grandmother began.

"I don't know what you want from them grandma, but I did what I promised you and kept quit, but enough is enough," Wahaj roared.

"You little ungrateful brat!" Ayaaz stated, "Don't talk to Mama Ghada like that, have you forgotten what she has done for you," his voice turned threateningly low as he squeezed her throat, cutting off her breath totally as she struggled against him.

In the next instant, I sprang up and threw a punch at Ayaaz; one of it landed against his ear, and the other, against his ribs. The force knocked his fingers off Elena's throat, allowing her to gasp in deep breaths.

"You touch her one more time, and I'll make sure you rot behind bars before you can even blink!" My low voice hissed menacingly.

"Wahaj! Where are you going?" Her grandmother suddenly asked when she saw her granddaughter opening the study doors, taking advantage of the distraction, and then she was gone, slamming the doors behind her.

Her grandmother wanted to follow after her, but my mother spoke up, "Don't ever come back again," which made her grandmother get into another fight with my mother.