Nevio's POV
"W—what was that man saying," Ayla asked, moving to get off the bed.
"Nothing, Ayla, he's just a random man; you don't have to worry about him; he's irrelevant," I countered, holding her back on the bed.
"But I heard him talking about being my father, he cannot just be..."
"He's not your father, Ayla; if he's your father, why would he say that you are not his daughter," I groaned exhaustedly.
"But..."
"There are no buts, Ayla, if he's saying that you're not his daughter, then so be it,"
Ayla’s lips parted as if to argue, but no words came out. Her eyes, wide with confusion and fear, searched mine for something—maybe the truth I wasn’t giving her.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Look, Ayla... whoever he is, whatever he claims, it doesn't matter. You’re her
