Dangerous eyes.
Each one looked completely different from the others, yet all of them carried the same overwhelming presence that naturally drew people’s eyes the second someone looked at them.
Devilishly handsome, powerful, and sharp.
The kind of men who looked like they could buy an entire city without blinking… and destroy it just as easily.
It was difficult not to feel intimidated by them.
Yet impossible not to notice them.
They stood with quiet composure, hands tucked into their pockets, their sharp eyes fixed on Elias and the gravestone ahead.
Even in silence, they carried overwhelming pressure.
It was rare—almost impossible—to see all of them gathered together publicly unless it involved major business gatherings or private meetings between powerful families.
So seeing them all present at her grandfather’s funeral surprised Amara slightly.
Still, she wasn’t entirely shocked.
Over the years, each of them had maintained close business ties with her grandfather and the Hawk family. More importantly, they were Elias’s closest friends, and among people like them, showing up at important occasions was almost expected.
As Amara finally stepped closer into the crowd, several gazes immediately shifted toward her.
The first to acknowledge her were the three men.
One after another, they each gave her a small nod of acknowledgment.
Amara returned only a quiet glance before calmly looking away from them.
Meanwhile, Elias finished paying his respects. He rose to his feet and stepped back into the crowd without saying a word.
One by one, the guests moved forward to pray near the grave.
Amara, however, remained standing silently near the back.
She simply waited quietly while the crowd slowly began thinning out.
As more people started leaving, the once crowded gravesite gradually became emptier until only a handful of people remained behind.
Only then did Amara finally step forward.
Her heels clicked softly against the stone as she slowly walked toward the gravestone.
Just as she was about to reach it, Elias lifted his head.
Their eyes met.
But Amara looked away almost instantly and continued walking forward calmly as if he wasn’t even there.
She walked toward her grandfather’s grave with slow steps, her heels pressing softly against the damp earth as if even the ground itself had turned fragile in this moment.
The closer she got, the heavier her breathing became—but her face remained composed. When she finally reached the gravestone, she stopped.
Then she slowly lowered herself down. Her knees touched the cold ground, and she leaned forward until her fingertips met the stone.
Her hand trembled faintly as she traced his name with a quiet, reverent touch—her fingers moving over each carved letter with gentleness. As if she was afraid that even the slightest pressure might break something sacred.
