“The approval process takes time,” I said, keeping my voice level. “There are protocols to follow.”

“I do not care about your petty regulations,” he said.

I heard the sound of ice clinking against glass on his end of the line.

He was sitting in his study, likely with a glass of scotch, miles away from the reality of the Pentagon.

“Nathan is family now, or he will be shortly,” my father continued. “His success is Caroline’s success. Which means it is our family’s success.”

“He is a Navy SEAL, Father. His record must stand on its own merit.”

“His record is exemplary,” my father snapped. “He has two commendations. He is exactly the kind of man this family aligns itself with.”

I looked at the monitor, where Nathan’s smiling face stared back at me from his official portrait.

“I have to conduct a full review of his operational file,” I said. “I cannot simply click a button because you asked me to.”

“Listen to me, Evelyn,” my father said, his voice dropping to a low, cold register.

The ice in his glass stopped clinking.