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?

read the part on why I killed him? You're a real failure

swore they could hear

in disappointment. "Shouldn't you be standing up to explain the facts? I remember how you bravely volunteered that you'd speak with your own brother personally... Why are

Walter was left clenching his cheeks, pain

been fine if it was just Les—he was just Glen's bastard and had a troubled reputation in the family. His death was at best

the problem was that there were two deaths, and the other was Neil Turnbull,

If anything, he had come ready to apologize and

lowlifes? So what if they are dead? No one will miss

her long black hair flowing beneath her

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