My father staggered back, catching himself on the table. “Withdrawn? Mr. Sterling, please! You can’t pull the funding! Lumina will collapse! I leveraged the house! I leveraged everything!”
“You should have thought about that before you assaulted a superior officer,” Sterling said.
I finally moved. I walked from the edge of the room toward the head table. The crowd parted for me like the Red Sea. Men in tuxedos stepped back respectfully. Women lowered their eyes.
I stopped in front of my father. He shrank back, flinching, suddenly realizing the magnitude of the force he had slapped. He looked at my hands—hands that knew how to dismantle weapons, hands that signed orders sending thousands of troops into battle—and he trembled.
“You wanted me to get out?” I asked softly.
“Evelyn,” he croaked, sweat beading on his forehead. “Evie, please. Tell him. Tell him we’re family.”
“I’m gone,” I said. “And so is your security clearance.”
My father’s eyes bulged. “My… what?”
“Your construction firm,” I said calmly. “You have three government contracts pending renewal. Those require Top Secret clearance. Clearance is based on character, stability, and adherence to the law.”
I leaned in close.
“I am the reviewing authority for those contracts. And I am revoking them, effective immediately.”
My father’s knees gave out. He slumped into his chair, a ruined man.
Part 5: The Scorched Earth
The ballroom emptied fast. Nothing clears a room quicker than the stench of ruin. The elite guests, the politicians, the investors—they all scurried away, texting their brokers and their lawyers, eager to distance themselves from the radioactive fallout of the Vance family.
