Cole didn’t react. Not outwardly. But one of his hands tightened around the blanket.
Ignatius went on. “But here’s where it gets complicated. Because your father isn’t a dragon—he’s not under their jurisdiction. They can’t punish him the way they can punish Hartshorne.”
Cole’s jaw dropped slightly. “So he just…gets away with everything?”
“No.” Ignatius’s voice softened with something like sympathy. “He doesn’t get away with it. He just doesn’t get punished bythem.”
I leaned closer. “What he did was illegal on the human side too, right? I mean—kidnapping? All of that?”
Ignatius hesitated. A rare thing. “Not in a way that gets cleanly enforced. He hid behind medical protocol, concussed next-of-kin consent, private contractors, nondisclosure agreements. The Council’s team is combing through every detail, but the truth is…he’s built enough legal armor to survive that part.”
Cole sank back against the couch, eyes dimming.
Ignatius held up a finger. “But. And this is important. The Council doesn’t have to be the ones to take him down.”
He reached into a leather bag by his feet and dropped a fat, miserable-looking folder on the table.
“That’s why I called my lawyers originally.”
Cole stared at it. “That’s…thick.”
Ignatius grinned without humor. “Oh, that’s just the preliminary look at your financial situation.”
Cole blinked once. Slowly. “My…what?”
Ignatius leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Cole, I never looked at your private life before now. I assumed you were happy. You’re one of the league’s most consistent players. You do your job. You don’t cause trouble. I thought everything outside the rink was fine.” His voice tightened. “Clearly, I was wrong.”
Cole swallowed. Hard. “Ignatius…you didn’t know.”
“I should have,” Ignatius said, a low rumble under the words. “But that’s hindsight. You will learn that dragons don't belong in packs but are very protective of their families. What matters now is that human lawyers can do what the Council can’t.”
Cole frowned slightly. The smallest crease of hope. “What can they do?”
“Put your finances back where they belong,” Ignatius said simply.
Cole blinked again. “How?”
Ignatius exhaled. “Cole, your father has had legal authority over your income streams since you were eighteen. Endorsements. Sponsorships. Taxes. Contract percentages,” Ignatius listed, ticking each disaster off on a finger. “All filed under holding companies he controls.”
“I knew he handled my pay,” Cole whispered. “But the sponsorships?” He reddened. "I thought they were for the team. That's what my agent said."
“Your old agent is skimming before he even hands it over,” Ignatius said. “But it’s flimsy. My lawyers are tearing through it like tissue paper. Wells can’t stop them because the moment he tries, he admits wrongdoing.”
Cole pressed a hand to his forehead. “I didn’t…know any of that.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” Ignatius said gently. “Your father made sure of that, and because he kept you isolated, it didn't come up with your teammates.”
I reached for Cole’s free hand. He didn’t grab back, but his fingers unfurled enough for mine to slide into the space.
Ignatius continued. “We’re transferring agent rights immediately. You’re getting a new agent—one thatyouchoose. Not your father. Not me. You.”
Cole looked overwhelmed. “I don’t know how to choose an agent.”
“Then you’ll interview,” Ignatius said. “You’ll decide what feels right. And my lawyers will vet them for criminal tendencies and bad haircuts.”
I choked on a laugh. “He’s serious.”
“I am,” Ignatius confirmed.
