I*******m War

My reply exploded.

In ten minutes, my post had 100k likes. 

White is for funerals where I come from. Red is for victory.

The photo was simple — me in Grandpa's red qipao, Alexander behind me with his arms around my waist, his chin on my shoulder. No filter. My eyes were red from crying, his jade ring on my finger. Behind us, Grandpa's old chessboard.

The comments went insane.

*@NYC_Fashion:* Mrs. Knight just ended every bridal shop in Manhattan.

*@LaneGroupEmployee:* I was there today. Chloe's white dress was stained when she fell. Sophia's red dress... she's the real heiress.

*@Anonymous:* Didn't Chloe say Sophia stole her husband? Girl, Alexander Knight was never your husband to steal.

Downstairs in the Lane Group lobby, Chloe saw my post on her phone. She screamed and threw her phone at the mirror in the bridal shop.

"She posted what?! Red is for victory?! Who does she think she is?!"

Ethan Miller picked up her phone, saw the photo of me and Alexander, and his hand tightened.

In that photo, I was smiling. A real smile. Not the careful, people-pleasing smile I always gave him for ten years. I was looking at Alexander like he was the whole world.

For the first time, Ethan felt something cold in his chest. Jealousy.

"She's just trying to make me angry," he muttered, but he couldn't look away from my red dress.

Chloe grabbed his arm. "Ethan, buy me the store! Buy me the most expensive white dress! I will show her what a real bride looks like!"

---

Knight Mansion, 8 PM.

I was sitting on the floor of my mother's new room, showing her the qipao. She touched the roses embroidered inside the phoenix feathers and cried.

"Your grandpa... he remembered I loved roses..."

Alexander stood at the door, letting us have mother-daughter time. But my phone kept buzzing.

Chloe had gone crazy.

She posted SEVEN stories in one hour.

Story 1: Her in a $50k white Vera Wang dress. Caption: _Pure girls wear white._

Story 2: Her crying video. _I don't know why my sister hates me so much. I just wanted to help with Starlight._

Story 3: A screenshot of Ethan transferring her $200k. _Thank you for always protecting me._

Story 4: A photo of my father hugging her at the hospital. _Family will always be family._

Story 5: She posted MY old design and said it was hers, with the date photoshopped.

Story 6: She tagged Miller Group official account.

Story 7: She posted a poll: _White vs Red, which would you wear to marry your first love?_

90% voted white.

She thought she won.

I looked at my mother, then at Alexander who was quietly watching me.

"Want me to delete her account?" Alexander asked calmly, like he was asking if I wanted water.

"No," I said. "Let her dance. The higher she dances, the harder she falls."

I took one photo. Just one.

It was not of me.

It was of my grandfather's will, which Alexander's lawyers had found this afternoon hidden in the chessboard. A new will, dated one week before his death, that my father never filed.

The will said:

*I, Henry Lane, leave all my personal shares, my house, and Project Starlight naming rights to my granddaughter Sophia Lane. My son Robert Lane will only keep his position if Sophia approves. My adopted granddaughter Chloe Lane will receive nothing.*

I posted it. No caption. Just the will. And tagged @LaneGroupOfficial and all 12 directors.

Then I turned off my phone and climbed into my mother's bed, lying beside her like when I was a little girl.

"Mom, sleep."

Downstairs, Alexander's phone started ringing non-stop. The board directors were calling in panic. The reporters were calling. Lane Group's stock was moving.

And in the bridal shop, Chloe's phone buzzed with a new notification. She opened it, saw the will, and fainted.

Ethan caught her, but his eyes were on my post. On the will that proved everything he bet on — Chloe becoming the heiress — was a lie from the start.

The white dress lost.

The red dress won.

Tomorrow, at 9 AM, I would officially move into the CEO office that belonged to my grandfather.

And Chloe? She would come to work as an intern, and have to bring me coffee in that same office.