Today, I stand before the five-star Grand Elysium Hotel, a palace of white marble and crystal chandeliers, where my younger brother, Brian, is getting married. I take a deep breath, the cool metal of my West Point ring a grounding presence on my finger. This is for my mother, a promise that I wouldn’t miss this day, despite the nearly ten years since I’ve been home—ten years since I chose a life of military bases and frigid server rooms over the gilded cage of my family’s empire.

My father, James Bradley, is the CEO of Nexora Dynamics, a colossal tech conglomerate. Brian is the CFO, a younger, more charming version of our father. They are giants, architects of a billion-dollar legacy. And I am the one who walked away.