As William had said, his body couldn't hold on for more than two days.
Carla lost her father again.
Andrew's funeral was grand. Influential figures in both the legal and underworld circles of Stiroft Vale came to pay their respects.
As a family member, Carla stood to the side.
The visitors came with probing intentions, all wanting to know who would call the shots in the Black Eagle from now on. Facing their scrutiny and probing, Carla kept her head down, her beautiful face pale and drained of color, her thick lashes cast delicate shadows over her pale face.
On the day Andrew was buried, a drizzle fell all day. After seeing the guests off, Carla lagged behind the others, walking slowly.
The fine rain dampened her hair, and raindrops slid down her face. She remained silent, her alrea
