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

hold his head high if word

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

they could hear Glen's

facts? I remember

was left clenching his cheeks, pain

have been fine if it was just Les—he was just Glen's bastard and had a troubled reputation in

was that there were two deaths, and the other was

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

two lowlifes? So what if they are dead?

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

grown up

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