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. That man had killed his beloved son and would strut on his own turf freely like it was nothing?!

How would he hold his head high if word got out?

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

they could hear Glen's teeth

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

left clenching his cheeks, pain swelling in

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

two deaths,

explain that? If anything, he

they are dead? No one

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

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