Chapter 3
Crown & Paw existed mostly on social media.
Chloe presented it as an exclusive travel service for wealthy pet owners.
Personalized dog menus.
Luxury grooming.
Private animal transport.
Gemstone collars.
Pet birthday suites.
She had no hospitality experience.
No cybersecurity staff.
No meaningful revenue.
What she did have was access to Kensington guests.
Three months earlier, Chloe asked me to create a list of travelers who booked pet-friendly rooms.
I refused.
“Guest preferences are not your marketing database.”
“It’s all family.”
“It’s protected data.”
“You built the system.”
“Which is why I know we cannot give it to you.”
She called me selfish.
Two weeks later, Northstar’s monitoring detected an application connected to Kensington’s loyalty platform.
The app exported:
Guest names.
Email addresses.
Travel dates.
Pet details.
Spending history.
Home addresses for guests requesting transportation.
I blocked it.
My father ordered me to restore access.
I refused.
He told me Crown & Paw had a limited marketing agreement approved by legal counsel.
I requested the contract.
None arrived.
The access attempt stopped.
I assumed the matter was over.
After my resignation, Northstar’s security team discovered a second connection hidden beneath credentials belonging to an outside consultant.
The consultant worked for Chloe’s boyfriend, Mason Reed.
Data had been exported for seven weeks.
Leah called an emergency meeting.
“Do not access anything outside Northstar’s legal authority,” she warned.
“We have logs from our own software.”
“Preserve them. No retaliation. No public accusations.”
“I know.”
“I am saying it because your father will claim this is emotional revenge.”
“He already is.”
Northstar notified Kensington House’s board and privacy counsel. The company was required to investigate and, depending on the findings, notify affected guests and regulators.
Richard called the incident a technical misunderstanding.
Chloe said customers would be thrilled to receive exclusive pet offers.
Samuel asked:
“Did they consent?”
Chloe rolled her eyes during the board video conference.
“People click accept on everything.”
The privacy attorney closed her eyes briefly.
The audit committee voted to suspend Crown & Paw’s access and preserve all related records.
My father opposed the motion.
My mother was not formally on the board but sat behind him during the call.
“This began because Claire’s daughter did not receive enough presents,” Eleanor said.
Samuel looked directly at the camera.
“This began because corporate data may have been transferred without authorization.”
“You do not understand Claire,” my mother replied. “She punishes people through technology whenever she feels overlooked.”
No one in that meeting knew how often Eleanor had used that sentence before.
When I asked to attend a school trip at ten:
Claire creates problems when she feels overlooked.
When I objected to Chloe using my clothes:
Claire punishes people because she is jealous.
When I requested payment for Northstar:
Claire cannot separate business from emotion.
My mother did not need to answer my argument.
She only needed to redefine my motive.
This time, the logs existed independently of her version.
The board approved the audit.
That evening, Emma sat at our kitchen table painting with the pharmacy art set.
The paper buckled beneath too much water.
She frowned.
“It’s broken.”
“The paper is too thin.”
“I ruined it.”
“No. The materials are not designed for that much water.”
She looked at me.
“Is that like when people say a child is bad because grown-ups gave her bad paper?”
I smiled despite myself.
“A little.”
She held up the painting.
A yellow house stood beside a black dog wearing a crown.
A small girl walked away holding a red balloon.
May you like
“Who is she?” I asked.
“Someone going somewhere better.”
