Sterling looked down at me, then back at my father, and pulled a slim black phone from his pocket.

“It’s funny you mention legacy,” he said, his tone shifting from rage to cold execution. “When my son was rescued by General Vance, I made some calls.

I wanted to know everything about the ghost who brought my boy home. I wanted to know why a Vance was wearing stars while her father claimed she was dead.”

He began pacing, addressing the room like a military tribunal.

“Military Intelligence is very thorough. They pulled your files, Robert. All of them. They found the shell companies. They found the rigged bids on those Defense Department logistics contracts you’ve been bragging about.

The ones paying for this wedding.”