Chapter 5
Amara stood quietly in front of the mirror.
She adjusted the sleeves of her long black dress carefully before smoothing her fingers over the fabric near her waist.
The elegant dress flowed all the way down to her ankles, while the soft puff sleeves and modest neckline made her look gentle and refined. Her hair was tied neatly into a low bun at the back of her head. Pearls rested quietly against her ears.
There was no makeup on her face. Her skin carried a faint natural flush, and the softness of her delicate features made her delicate features appear even gentler.
After one final adjustment to her dress, she stepped out of the bedroom.
The mansion remained completely quiet as she descended the stairs slowly in her black heels.
Elias hadn’t returned home since he left yesterday morning.
But strangely…
This time Amara hadn’t waited for him. She hadn’t stayed awake anxiously while checking the clock every few minutes. She hadn’t called him repeatedly asking when he would return.
Instead…
She had slept peacefully through the night. Maybe because over the past three months, she had already grown used to his absence.
Or maybe because after he ignored her for those three months, something inside her had slowly changed too. The space Elias once occupied inside her heart had faded little by little.
What remained now was only a familiar loneliness she had already learned to live with.
Amara quietly stepped out of the mansion.
The sharp sound of her black heels echoed softly against the stone stairs.
But the moment she descended halfway down the massive staircase of the Creed mansion, her steps slowed.
Several black luxury vehicles were parked outside the entrance. A long black Mercedes stood in the center while two more cars remained positioned behind it. Guards dressed in black stood beside each vehicle.
And leaning casually against the Mercedes—
Was Jasper Frost.
He had a youthful, striking look with a mischievous kind of charm. His curly hair fell in loose, slightly messy waves, as if he’d just run his fingers through it and left it at that.
He was dressed casually, in a simple oversized shirt layered over a thin tee, the sleeves slightly pushed up his forearms. A pair of relaxed-fit pants hung loosely at his waist, completing a laid-back look.
One arm rested lazily against the open window while a cigarette burned between his fingers. Smoke curled slowly into the cold morning air.
Hearing footsteps, his head jerked up. The moment he spotted Amara coming down the stairs, his expression changed instantly—his eyes lit up, and a wide, easy grin spread across his face, bright and boyish with recognition.
He immediately tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath the heel of his shoe, grinding it hard against the pavement until the faint orange glow disappeared completely. Smoke curled briefly around his feet before fading into the cold air.
At the same moment, Amara quietly descended the remaining stairs.
The black fabric of her coat swayed lightly around her legs as the chilly morning wind brushed against the loose strands of hair near her face. Without saying a word, she stepped in front of Jasper and stopped.
Jasper straightened immediately.
“Ready to go? I’ll take you to the cemetery," he said quietly.
As he spoke, he stepped to the side and reached for the car door, pulling it open for her.
However, Amara made no move to enter the car. She glanced behind him toward the line of black luxury vehicles and the guards standing beside them.
Her eyes lingered there for a second before she looked back at Jasper calmly.
“There’s no need,” she said quietly.
Jasper’s hand paused on the car door.
“I’m going alone.”
She lifted a hand slightly, pointing toward the guards and the cars.
“I don’t want all of them following me there. I’ll go first and pay my respects. You can pick me up from there.”
“Got it,” Jasper gave a small nod.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out the car keys, and tossed them toward her.
Amara caught them smoothly with one hand before turning and walking around the Mercedes. She then slipped into the driver’s seat.
A few seconds later, the soft hum of the engine filled the air. Jasper stood there watching quietly as the black car slowly pulled away from the massive Creed mansion and disappeared onto the streets of Manhattan.
The car moved smoothly through the streets of Manhattan.
The weather was cold. Clouds drifted lazily across the pale sky while soft sunlight occasionally slipped through them and reflected against the glass buildings surrounding the city.
The city looked unusually quiet.
Amara lowered the car window further, letting the wind hit her face. The cool breeze brushed against her flushed cheeks and tangled lightly through her hair.
The sunlight fell softly across the side of her face.
It wasn’t harsh like summer sunlight. Instead, it carried a faint warmth that barely softened the coldness lingering in the air. Her fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel as she drove silently through the city.
Eventually, the car crossed into the cemetery grounds and slowly came to a stop.
Amara stepped out quietly. The cold air immediately wrapped around her body as she closed the door behind her. Her heels pressed softly against the stone pathway while she walked deeper into the cemetery.
Rows of gravestones stretched endlessly beneath the gray sky. From a distance, she could already see people gathered around one particular gravesite.
Everyone was dressed in black. The atmosphere was heavy with grief and silence.
Recognizing several familiar faces among the mourners, Amara quietly approached them. She moved through the crowd without speaking, her expression calm as she slowly made her way closer to her grandfather’s grave.
As she got closer, more faces became recognizable.
Distant relatives.
Family business associates.
Old family friends.
Quiet conversations slowly died down the moment people noticed her arrival.
But Amara paid little attention to them. However, her gaze instinctively landed on one man.
Elias.
He stood silently before her grandfather’s grave in a black suit, a bouquet of white flowers in his hand. After placing the flowers carefully in front of the gravestone, he lowered his head slightly, murmuring a quiet prayer beneath his breath.
The cold wind lightly moved the strands of hair falling across his forehead.
Felix stood behind him silently with his hands folded in front of him, his expression solemn and respectful.
Several steps away, three other men naturally stood out among the crowd.
Cassian Han. Xavier Chen. And Lucius Romano.
Even among a crowd full of wealthy and influential people, they drew attention effortlessly.
Broad shoulders.
Perfectly tailored expensive suits.
Cold expressions.
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.
Her shoulders softened. Her head lowered slightly.
Her fingers remained on the gravestone as she finally spoke, her voice breaking into something delicate and almost childlike.
“Goodbye, Grandpa…”
Her voice barely carried beyond her lips, lost in the wind.