"I could have waited a few more weeks, but after the efforts to clean the Khan Family of dissidents and enemies, this is the perfect time," Marcel said, taking a deep breath and drinking the remainder of the water in his glass. "Elder Michael Khan, please take the seat at the opposite corner of this table." Michael stood up hearing this, his heart beating on his eardrums. He felt the blood rush from his face, making it pale, before he gathered himself to swallow dry and walk towards the assigned seat. His eyes crossed with Tyrel's, and then with Noah's. And Noah saw the obvious emotions in his face, surprise, and fear, but there were also traces of something he hadn't expected, anger. His lips' corners extending sideways, his slightly furrowed brow and angled eyebrows, the micro-facial expression were telling a lot more than just his face would say. And when he sat down, Noah knew who it was aimed towards.
'Oh wow, that's a huge drama!'