Tit For Tat Chapter 03
My hands were still shaking as the car pulled away from the club.
It wasn’t because I couldn’t let go.
It was because the moment I stopped forcing myself to hold it together, the physical nausea hit.
Messages from Sloane kept popping up on my phone.
“Are you really going to call off the engagement over one webpage? “
“Adrian just wanted to prove you could get along with his friends. “
“People were almost over you getting dumped. You’re the one causing the consequence. “
The last one read:
“Honestly, marrying Adrian was a win for you. “
I blocked her number.
Then I called the head of information security at Hart Real Estate.
“I need you to preserve every backend log, access record, recipient list, and cloud album download record from the engagement website.”
“And revoke Cole Capital’s and Sloane’s access to the Harbor Dock joint database.”
The director hesitated.
“Including Mr. Cole?”
“Including him.”
This wasn’t just anger.
The engagement website and the project database used the same shared authentication system.
If Adrian could give the guest list to Sloane, our shared permissions had lost their most basic integrity.
Only after that call did I phone my father.
He picked up immediately.
“Evelyn, it’s late. Is there a problem with tomorrow’s schedule?”
“Dad, the engagement is off.”
Silence stretched for a few seconds.
“Did Adrian hurt you?”
I had expected him to ask about the media, our business relationships, the club expenses, or the company’s stock price.
Instead, he asked about me.
My throat tightened.
“He turned my old photos with Noah into a ‘secondhand goods’ page and sent it to all the guests.”
“He sent it himself.”
My father didn’t ask if I was sure, or if it was a misunderstanding.
“Forward me the email.”
I did.
Less than a minute later, his voice came back, cold as ice.
“Cancel it.”
“We’ll find another way to finance Harbor Dock.”
“The Harts aren’t so desperate that we have to trade our daughter’s dignity for capital.”
Tears finally spilled, hitting the back of my hand.
“Dad, the Cole family’s capital is a huge part of the financing.”
“Money can be aquired again. A daughter can’t.”
He paused.
“Three years ago, when the Bennetts broke the engagement, I was so busy trying to save the company that I failed to stand by you. I won’t make that mistake again.”
I lowered my head, unable to speak for a long moment.
Then my mother took the phone.
She didn’t try to persuade me. She didn’t cry.
She only asked, “Are you safe? Do you need me to send someone to pick you up?”
“I’m on my way home.”
“Good. We’ll talk when you get here.”
After hanging up, I got my PR director on the line.
At 12:40 a.m., Hart Real Estate issued a statement:
“The engagement party for Ms. Evelyn Hart and Mr. Adrian Cole, scheduled for tomorrow, has been canceled. This decision does not affect Hart Real Estate’s existing contractual obligations. Regarding the unauthorized use of private images and guest information, the company has initiated evidence preservation procedures. “
The statement didn’t describe the webpage.
It didn’t mention Sloane.
But Adrian called me immediately.
I didn’t answer.
The second call, the third, the fourth—I declined them all.
Then he texted.
“Why did you mention evidence preservation in the statement? “
“The public will think Cole Capital had a data breach. “
I replied:
“When you used our shared company system to send a humiliating email, why didn’t you consider how the public might interpret that? “
A long time passed before he wrote back:
“I’ll be at your house in the morning. “
I dropped my phone onto the seat beside me.
Twenty minutes later, the head of information security sent a preliminary report.
All emails had been delivered and could not be recalled.
Of those, 294 had been opened.
The page had been screenshotted over seven hundred times, and at least six public accounts had reposted it.
Worse, the lead lending bank’s representative for the Harbor Dock project was on the guest list.
After opening the email, he had forwarded the link to the bank’s compliance department.
The joke Adrian claimed could be “switched back tomorrow morning” was now part of an official record.
Reading that line, a strange calm settled over me.
Once pain has evidence, it no longer needs tears to prove its existence.
I saved the report to a new folder and named it:
“After Send “
Then I messaged my legal team four words:
“Proceed according to protocol. ”