Page 57

“He’s a fucking bullshit artist,” Hudson growls.

“He’s always been a great writer—probably why he’s so popular.” I sigh. “Too bad it’s mostly a web of lies.”

“Atlas is on the case,” he says. “I have complete faith that he’ll find a way to turn the right screws and get you back on the project. Plus, he’s called Madeline Aronson and they’re going to work together on this.”

“The attorney?” I ask, mouth dropping open.

Madeline is famous in the business, no nonsense and smart.

He nods. “I phoned her a few weeks back to start looking into this, but her and Atlas working on this together means that things will move faster.”

“And…she’ll help me?”

Another nod. “If there’s anything Madeline hates, it’s when someone is being taken advantage of.”

My eyes sting. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you all for this.”

“And I don’t know how to convince you that none of us would be doing this if we didn’t want to.”

“It’s too much.”

“It’s not.”

I open my mouth to keep arguing, but he presses a finger to my lips, says gently, “So, Madeline and Atlas are on the case dealing with the conservatorship, and Royal got Kate Martensson involved?—”

My eyes go wide.

Kate is like the best of the best when it comes to tricky publicity management.

And she has the waiting list to prove it.

“So, Kate is now on the case with that bullshit statement. And don’t say he or Kate don’t have to do that,” Hudson adds in a hurry. “They want to help, and Royal’s not going to stop until Dylan’s curled up in the corner sobbing.”

I smile at that image.

“Better,” Hudson says, tracing the curve of my lips. “Now, I know you don’t have access to your accounts right now, but Atlas said the conservatorship is supposed to deposit five thousand dollars a month into your account for incidentals?—”

I set the phone on the mattress and shake my head. “What?”

He stills. “Can I take that to mean you didn’t know about the deposits?”

“Dylan has never deposited money into an account I can access. I had a credit card that sent him an alert to approve every purchase, big and small, and sometimes he would give me cash. But I haven’t had free access to any of my money—no matter the amount—not since my mom signed over the rights to him.”

Hudson’s big chest inflates then relaxes. “Okay, princess,” he says. “That’s not good exactly, but it sure as shit gives Atlas some ammunition.”

Finally some good news.

“And hopefully we can use it to gain access to some of your money so you don’t have to feel like you’re relying on me and can finally have your freedom.”

I freeze.

Then my eyes start burning again.

Because…

This man is good. This man gets it.

This man won’t shove me into a tiny box and put me up on a shelf.