Wade frowned, his gaze snapping to his door.
Just who would want to see him at this time of the night? Not to mention the fact that only Rowan knew he lived here.
He walked to the door and opened it, only to find his landlord, James, standing there, his round face pale and slick with sweat.
The older man wrung his cap in his hands nervously.
"Mr. Barrett, Wade, sorry to bother you so late," James stammered, his voice quivering. "Please, I need your help. It's an emergency."
Wade frowned. "What happened?"
"It's— some adventurers, downstairs," James said quickly. "They're tearing up my shop."
"They're saying I stole the place from them. Please, you've dealt with their type before, haven't you? You know how to talk to them."
Wade's expression went cold. He did know their type. Scammers, opportunists who preyed on the very laws meant to keep order in Hiving.
