"A member of my Pack said he bumped into the heir in Haines, he also mentioned that he was in the possession of a Mafia King so I did what I had to do." Warren gestured with his hands.
"And it's clear that he had made a mistake, I would extend my apologies to your mistress if she were here." He went on, looking around like he expected her to walk in.
"How old is this heir? If I'm feeling gracious, I may help you search for him." Asher offered flippantly.
Warren sat up straighter, his charming personality cooling. "The heir in question is mated to my only son."
Asher's poker face remained frozen, "That wasn't what I asked."
"He's twenty-one."
Asher leaned forward, "Isn't it odd that the twenty-one-year-old heir is still just an heir?"
"Our traditions and arrangements have nothing to do with you." Warren said frostily.
"Right, right," Asher drawled, "It doesn't. You're here to apologize, right? It's accepted." He said magnanimously.
