I stared at him for a moment. "Just how do you know all this stuff?"
He shrugged. "I told you, I get bored. It’s amazing what risks you’ll take when you’re bored."
I snorted softly. "And what happened to all the land the consortium purchased?"
"It’s still all owned by the consortium, which is now run solely by Nadler. But James Trilby and Garvin Appleby’s heirs are suing the consortium and Nadler for a bigger piece of the pie."
Trilby and Appleby were the other two men we’d linked to the consortium. They were dead, just as the witch who’d been in their employ was dead—killed by Azriel after she’d sent a soul stealer after a little girl. "Does that mean the two men didn’t leave wills, or did they simply not leave their heirs enough money?"
"The latter." He grimaced. "See, this is where pack mentality wins out. In the event of my death, everything either goes entirely to the pack, or it’s split seventy–thirty between my heirs and the pack. Everyone understands the situation, and everyone wins."
I grinned. "You don’t have any heirs, so your pack wins big time."
"Hey," he said, voice offended but eyes dancing. "I might not have heirs yet, but that doesn’t mean I’m not looking for a suitable lady."
I snorted softly. "It’s a little hard to find said lady if you never actually leave your house."
"I leave," he said. "And ladies do occasionally come into the shop."
"Yeah, and then run screaming when they see the mess downstairs," I said drily.
"That, unfortunately, is more true than not. Hence the reason I don’t invite many lovelies back." He paused, then wiggled his eyebrows outrageously. "Of course, there is one lady who’s not afraid to brave the mess. I don’t suppose you’d consider taking another lover?"
"One lover is more than enough for me at the moment."
"And you call yourself a werewolf?" he said, pretending outrage.