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.

beloved son and would strut on his own

hold his head

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

swore they could hear

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

left clenching his cheeks, pain swelling in his

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

deaths, and the other was

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

they are dead? No one will

into the banquet hall in her white gown, her long black hair flowing beneath her tiara and her

grown up

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