The banquet hall erupted in an uproar at Glen's outburst.

"What?! Someone killed Les Turnbull?"

"No way, he's dead? And that brat killed him?!"

"That's the son of the family head we're talking about... Who the hell let him in here?"

Frank could feel everyone's eyes on him.

He glanced coldly at Walter in turn and said calmly, "Yes, I killed him."

"How dare you!" Glen bellowed, clearly unable to retrain his own wrath.

would strut on his own turf freely like

hold his head high if

head. "Then did you read the

could hear

explain the facts? I remember how you bravely volunteered that you'd speak with your own brother

left clenching his

just Glen's bastard and had a troubled reputation in the family. His death was

two deaths, and the other

to explain that? If anything, he had come ready to

what if they are dead? No one will miss

then, Vicky strode into the banquet hall in her white gown, her long black hair flowing beneath

grown up

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