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.

had killed his beloved son and would strut on his own turf

he hold his head high if word

loud and shaking his head. "Then did you read the part on why I killed him? You're a real

could hear Glen's teeth

and turned toward Walter, sighing in disappointment. "Shouldn't you be standing up to explain the facts? I remember how

was left clenching his cheeks, pain swelling

Glen's bastard and had a troubled reputation in the family. His death was at best inconsequential, and Walter could

were two deaths, and the other was Neil Turnbull,

anything, he had come ready to apologize and accept

if they are dead? No one will

then, Vicky strode into the banquet hall in her white gown, her long black hair flowing beneath her tiara and her devilish figure instantly

all grown

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