Inside the Turners’ house, a solemn wind blew as the news of the death of the family’s heir, Sean Turner, weighed heavily on every family member’s shoulders.
Various media outlets waited outside, capturing the images and emotions of everyone who was coming to the house to mourn the untimely death of the man and CEO of Turner’s Real Estate.
Sean’s body was already placed in a coffin in the center of the back garden for everyone to come and offer their prayers for his soul to rest in peace.
Usually, people would keep the coffin open so the body and soul could get everyone’s humble prayers, but with Sean’s condition... it was better to keep it closed.
The last thing they wanted was for everyone to talk about the deceased negatively.
In the corner of the garden by the bushes, a man in his early fifties sat with a cane in his hand, his expression hard and unpredictable.
"Uncle, it’s time." Sean’s cousin walked to the man, and the latter looked up, his steel gaze unwavering and cold.
They wanted him to go and allow the coffin to be buried with all the rituals and have his son’s soul rest in peace. He tried to do that too. But how could he really allow it?
Without knowing who the person was who tormented his son to the point of death, how could he let himself or his soul rest in peace? Would his son really have that peace without the justice he deserved?
The man talked to the cops and registered an official complaint to have everything investigated.
How did his son end up in that empty field out of nowhere with no clothes on his body? Who was the one who burnt his tongue brutally? Who killed him by choking him with a rod? He needed all these answers.
They let the media spread the news that their son had been murdered in the cold field, but didn’t let out any details to keep it secret until the truth was revealed.
"Uncle," Leo shook his shoulders, and the man took a deep, shaky breath before nodding and standing.
Though his gaze remained cold and composed, his trembling hands defined the dilemma and pain a father felt for performing the last rituals for his son when it should’ve been the other way around.
He looked away when his gaze fell on the coffin, trying his best to remain composed. He needed to be, for everyone in the family, and to pursue the truth because something told him this was going to be a long chase.
Anybody who dared to put their hands on Turner’s heir wouldn’t be a simple man, and they knew exactly what they were doing, which meant the family or the person involved was of high social status too.
That was also the reason he asked his men to find out about Sean’s recent rendezvous, including the details of the people he had gotten into a tryst or trifle with.
As the man walked to the coffin, he looked at Andrew, Trevor, and Beatrice, Sean’s best friends, who entered the venue.
Beatrice walked to him and immediately held his hand.
"I am so sorry for your loss, Uncle. I still can’t believe he is not among us anymore. It was just a few days ago that we all gathered for drinks. Who would’ve thought—?" Beatrice shed a few tears, and the man’s eyes softened.
He patted Beatrice’s head with contained sadness.
"I understand your pain, my child. We are all equally shocked by what happened. I just hope God gives us enough strength and patience to deal with this pain," Sean’s father said.
Trevor walked to him next. He simply extended his hand towards the man to express his condolences.
"I am sorry for your loss, sir," Trevor said.
Sean’s father nodded at Trevor before patting his shoulders. This boy has always been a man of few words; thus, he knew what he said, and he meant it from the bottom of his heart.
Sean’s father’s gaze then moved to Andrew, who was looking at Sean, more like glaring, and his heart skipped a beat.
After all, the man’s gaze held a little anger and sadness together.
"Andrew, son, I know you are angry at my son for leaving you all so soon. You guys always stood together, talking about a lifetime of friendship. Please forgive him." Sean’s father walked to him and hugged him, feeling emotional.
Andrew froze in his place for a few seconds before relaxing and patting the man’s back.
After all, it wasn’t his fault that he had to go through this pain. It was Sean’s fault for being so selfish and inhumane and pushing people to that limit.
He didn’t know whether Elara, Daniel, or anyone related killed him or not, but he knew one thing for sure. He deserved it. And though Sean was his best friend, he wouldn’t forgive him for what he tried on Elara, even after his death.
Beatrice looked at Andrew, who didn’t want to come to this place, and pressed his lips into a thin line.
She then looked at Trevor, who had a neutral gaze, neither happy nor sad.
And surprisingly, it was all because of Elara; she knew. The girl who couldn’t break their bond sowed discord in their friendship and finally succeeded after leaving.
"We should start the ceremony," Sean’s father said, and everyone nodded.
People who were yet to come and offer their prayers quickly moved around, placing the garland and flowers on the coffin.
Sean’s mother watched the scene from the balcony of her room, too sad and in pain to attend the ceremony and greet everyone.
The more she looked, the sadder she felt. It felt like it was just yesterday the little boy had been running in the house and asking for an extra serving of pudding because he liked it a lot when she made it.
A sob escaped her mouth, and she covered her mouth with her hand, her sister comforting her from behind.
"It’s okay. Let those tears out. Don’t suppress them," the woman said while patting Sean’s mother’s shoulders comfortingly.
While Elara, who watched the live footage of what was happening in the house through the drone that was moving around the area, arranged by the Turners, and Justin had hacked into, leaned back in her seat, watching the drama unfold before her with raised brows.
She usually would’ve shown the man some sympathy. Their differences were distinct, and death was on a completely different level. But after what he tried to do, she couldn’t bring herself to feel compassionate at all.
"It’s boring." Elara stood from her place before turning the TV off, and Antonio watched the girl go into her bedroom, his gaze lingering on the message he received.
[The Turners’ family is looking into it as expected. They may try to corner Elara soon. You’ve got to stay prepared.]
It was Xylon’s message, and Antonio sighed.
Of course, he was ready to deal with them.