“Since my immune system formed an aggressive opinion on it.”

His face went blank, then snapped back to polite tolerance. “Fine. She’ll have the salmon.”

“I’ll order for myself, thank you,” I told the waiter, who scribbled and practically sprinted away.

For the next twenty minutes, Adrian treated me to a monologue disguised as a conversation. He lectured me on leadership, calling his crew “kids” and his junior officers “fragile.”

“They run to counselors and inspectors every time someone raises their voice,” he sneered, swirling his wine. “Professional parasites, the lot of them.”

“Inspectors?” I asked, sipping my ice water.