There's a particular kind of predator that thrives in San Francisco's arts scene: the smooth-talking visionary with a nonprofit letterhead, a Rolodex full of donors, and a pitch deck that makes struggling artists feel like they've finally been seen.

Adam-Michael Royston allegedly fit that profile to a tee.

The self-styled gallerist and philanthropist is accused of doing what too many in the nonprofit-arts-industrial complex get away with for far too long — selling artists on a dream, earning their trust, walking out with their work, and leaving them with nothing but unanswered emails and empty walls.

The details are grimly familiar. Artists — people who pour months or years into a single piece — were allegedly lured in by the promise of exposure, sales, and institutional legitimacy. What they reportedly got instead was the runaround, missing inventory, and a guy who apparently confused "curator" with "acquirer."

Here's what makes this especially infuriating: the nonprofit structure that Royston operated within is supposed to exist to serve artists and communities, not exploit them. Instead, it may have functioned as a trust-building vehicle — a way to signal credibility while allegedly pulling off what amounts to theft dressed in a turtleneck.

San Francisco has long struggled to protect its arts community from exactly this kind of exploitation. Rents push artists out. Galleries close. And when someone shows up claiming to be a lifeline, desperation can override skepticism.

That's not naivety — that's how predatory schemes work.

What artists deserve now is accountability, restitution, and a hard look at how nonprofits in this space are being monitored — or more accurately, how they aren't. A 501(c)(3) status shouldn't be a blank check of credibility.

If you handed over your work to Royston and haven't seen it or a dime since, you're not alone — and you shouldn't stay quiet.