Peter's POV

In the early morning, in the dining room of Rufus mansion, Michael calmly scanned every person at the long table. Eventually, when his gaze lingered on the empty seat at the end of the table for two seconds, Michael suddenly spoke, calling over a nearby servant.

"Since no one will be sitting in this seat from now on, there's no need for it. Understand?"

"Yes, Alpha."

Listening to Michael's suggestive words, I cast a sidelong glance at the seat that should have belonged to Donald and smirked.

"Peter."

"Yes? What is it, Grandfather?"

Caught off guard, I quickly composed my expression and turned my head towards Michael at...