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 turf freely like it

hold his head

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

swore they could hear Glen's

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

clenching his

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

two deaths, and the other was

anything, he had come ready to apologize and accept

lowlifes? So what if they are dead?

her long black hair flowing beneath her tiara and her devilish figure instantly seizing

grown

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