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?

laughing out loud and shaking his head. "Then did you read the part on why I killed

could hear Glen's teeth

toward Walter, sighing in disappointment. "Shouldn't you be standing up to explain the facts?

Walter was left clenching his cheeks, pain

a troubled

deaths, and the other was Neil Turnbull,

If anything, he had come ready

two lowlifes? So what if they are dead? No one

the banquet hall in her white gown, her long black

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