The $100M Copycat

Three months after the garden wedding in red, I thought my life would finally be quiet.

I was wrong. Quiet never belonged to a Lane woman.

It was 9 AM on a Monday, and I was in the Starlight design studio on the 22nd floor, breastfeeding Stella in one arm and sketching the new Spring collection with the other. Alexander was supposed to be in a Knight Group merger meeting worth $800M, but instead he was sitting on the floor of my office, building a tower of fabric rolls for Stella to knock over.

"Mr. Knight, you have a board meeting in 10 minutes," my assistant, Maya, whispered from the door.

"Tell them I'm on paternity research," he said without looking up. "Very important research on how fast a 4-month-old can destroy $2,000 silk."

Stella laughed and knocked the tower over. Exactly like her mother — loved destroying perfect things to make something new.

That's when Maya's face changed. She closed the door and locked it, which she never did.

"CEO Lane, we have a problem. Big problem. Look at this."

She put her iPad on my desk. I*******m. A brand called "VANE & CO" — a fast-fashion giant owned by Miller Group. Ethan's family company. They had 5 million followers.

Their new post, posted 1 hour ago, had 200k likes already.

It was MY dress. My centerpiece black velvet gown from Chapter 17 — the one with the Starlight Diamond held by platinum chains. The one I drew live in 30 minutes. The one that sold out.

Except their version had a fake diamond — glass — and the velvet was cheaper, and the star chains were plastic. And the model was... Chloe.

Chloe in my dress, posing in front of a fake sewing machine.

The caption:

> VANE & CO x Chloe Lane — The REAL Starlight Revival. Inspired by true Lane legacy. Available tonight for $199. Not $50M. Because fashion should be for everyone. #RealLane #StarlightForAll

My hands started shaking. Not from sadness. From rage. The kind of rage I hadn't felt since I woke up from my rebirth.

"They copied it," Maya said, voice low. "And they are selling it for $199. Our original is $15,000. And they used Chloe. She signed with them last week. We didn't know."

Alexander stood up from the floor, Stella still in his sling. He took the iPad, looked for 5 seconds, and his whole face turned to ice. The cold Knight CEO that billionaires feared was back.

"Ethan," he said. One word. He knew. Miller Group owned VANE & CO. Ethan lost his CEO title, but his father still ran the parent company. This was revenge.

I put Stella down in her crib, covered her ears gently, even though she was a baby and couldn't understand.

"How much did we sell of the original?" I asked Maya.

"47 pieces at $15,000. $705,000 revenue. But more important is reputation. If people think $199 version is real, our brand dies."

47 pieces. Each hand-sewn by me and three old tailors Grandpa trained in 1980. Each took 40 hours. Each had a real small star diamond, not the big one, but real.

And now this cheap copy.

Alexander was already on the phone. "Leo, get legal. Patent, copyright, design theft. I want injunction in 2 hours. And get PR."

"No," I said.

Both Maya and Alexander looked at me.

"No lawyers yet. Lawyers take months. By then they sell 100,000 copies. We do what we did with Chloe. Live."

I stood up, took off my breastfeeding cover, put on my CEO blazer.

"They want a fashion war? They copied my dress? Then we show New York what real vs fake looks like. Tonight. Live."

Alexander understood immediately. He smiled — that dangerous smile.

"My wife wants a war. Okay. What do you need?"

"I need a runway, a real Starlight gown, a VANE copy, a microscope, and a torch."

Maya blinked. "A torch?"

"Yes. To burn fake velvet."

---

8 PM. Same Starlight press runway where I beat Chloe 3 months ago.

But this time, it was packed. Twice as many media. Because this was not sister fight. This was $100M brand vs $199 copy. David vs Goliath. And everyone loves David.

VANE & CO actually came. Because Ethan wanted to humiliate me. He walked in with Chloe, who wouldn't look at me, and their CEO, a man in cheap shiny suit.

Ethan saw me and smirked. "Sophia, long time. Still playing dress-up? We made your design affordable. You should thank us. $15,000 for a dress is robbery."

I didn't answer. I waited until cameras were live. 2M people watching on T****k Live. GoodNovel readers were commenting crazy in my book's comment section too — they loved this drama.

"Good evening. I'm Sophia Lane-Knight, CEO of Starlight. Three months ago, I showed you a black velvet gown with a Starlight diamond. Tonight, VANE & CO says they made it for everyone for $199. Let's test if it's the same."

I had two mannequins. On left, my original $15,000 gown. On right, their $199 copy, bought by Maya an hour ago from their store.

"Test one: Velvet."

I took a torch — small fashion torch used for fabric testing — and burned a tiny corner inside hem of both.

My velvet: burned slow, smelled like real hair, left ash that crumbled. Real velvet, cotton-silk blend, Grandpa's supplier from 1975.

Their velvet: melted, smelled like plastic, left black hard bead. Polyester. Fake.

Reporters gasped, zoomed in.

"Test two: Star diamond chains."

I took a microscope camera and projected to big screen.

My chains: platinum, 950 stamp, hand-linked, each link closed perfectly, no gap.

Their chains: plastic painted silver, mold line visible, gap open, would break if you pulled.

"Test three: The star."

I took the big Starlight Diamond from safe — the original — and placed it on my dress. It threw stars on ceiling again, just like before. Then I took their glass star and placed on their dress. No light. Just dead glass.

I looked at camera.

"My dress takes 40 hours to sew by three tailors who worked with my grandfather. Theirs takes 40 minutes in a factory in Bangladesh that pays $2 per hour. I know, I checked. My dress has real platinum. Theirs has plastic that will turn your neck green. My dress is Starlight. Theirs is star-not."

The room was silent. Then applause started, louder than last time.

Ethan's face was red. "You... you can't prove we copied! Stars are common! Black dresses are common!"

"Oh, I can," I said and clicked next slide.

It was my original live drawing from Chapter 17 — timestamped, video, 30 minutes, my hand bleeding on paper. And next to it, their design file metadata — created 2 days after my show, by a designer who used to work for us and was fired for stealing.

"And," Alexander stepped forward now, holding a legal paper but not giving to lawyer — giving to me, "my wife's design is copyrighted, trademarked, and patented in US, EU, and China. Filed the day after her show. You filed nothing."

Ethan looked at Chloe. Chloe looked down and whispered, "You said it was okay, you said she didn't patent..."

"I... I..." Ethan had no words.

Alexander took my hand. "My wife doesn't need me to fight. But I will say this as Knight Group CEO: Knight Group will no longer supply fabric to any Miller Group brand. And we will sue for $100M for design theft, brand damage, and worker exploitation."

$100M. Same number as Starlight Diamond value.

Ethan collapsed into a chair.

I walked to Chloe, who was crying now, holding the fake $199 dress.

"Chloe," I said softly so cameras couldn't hear, "you wore my dress again. Last time you stole sketch. This time you sold fake. When will you wear your own?"

She sobbed. "They said they would pay me $50k... I have no money... Dad left..."

I sighed. She was still my sister, even after everything.

"Come to office tomorrow. Not as model. As intern. $3,000 a month. Sewing floor. You will learn what real velvet feels like."

She nodded, tears on fake velvet.

That night, VANE & CO pulled the dress from website. Stock fell 15%. Our pre-orders went up to $2M.

At 11 PM, back home, Stella was awake, refusing to sleep.

I held her in red qipao I wore to wedding, now with baby spit, and Alexander held both of us.

"Mrs. Knight, you just won $100M case without going to court," he said.

"No, Mr. Knight, we won. Because you held Stella so I could burn velvet."

He kissed my head. "Next time, can we not bring a torch to a fashion show? The fire department called me."

I laughed. "No promises. Lane women like fire."

Stella laughed too, throwing stars from her tiny diamond necklace all over the ceiling.

Outside, New York lights blinked. Somewhere, Ethan was getting a lawyer letter for $100M. Somewhere, Chloe was packing for her intern job.

But in Lane garden, in sewing machine house, we were just a family with a baby who loved knocking over fabric towers.