Wedding In Red

One Month Later. Lane Garden. 5 PM.

No hotel ballroom. No glass tower. No Knight mansion.

My wedding was in the Lane garden where Grandpa taught me to sew.

The decoration was not flowers. It was Grandpa's old Singer sewing machines — 10 of them, all cleaned, with red thread spooling to make a curtain. In the middle, the first one — the one that hid the $50M diamond.

The dress was not white.

It was red. Bright Chinese red qipao, modern cut, embroidered with tiny stars that glowed. On the chest, the Starlight Diamond, cut smaller now into two — one star for my ring, one star for the dress centerpiece. Mom's idea. "Starlight should be shared, not locked."

Mom was walking.

After one month of treatment, no more poison, she could walk with a cane. She wore the pink lipstick again, and Grandpa's old jade bracelet.

She held my arm.

"Sophia, are you nervous?" she whispered as drums started.

"No, Mom. Last time I was nervous. This time I am ready."

Because this time, I knew who was waiting at the end of the red carpet.

Alexander was not in a black suit. He wore a black Chinese tang suit with red star embroidery to match me. No tie. Hair not perfect. He was nervous — the billionaire who never got nervous was fidgeting with his ring box.

Grandmother Knight was in the front row, with Grandpa's photo framed next to her. She brought it herself. "Your grandpa should see this. He kept Starlight alive."

Board members, Vogue, Mrs. Chen, even the two female police officers who arrested Lisa — all here.

And two people in the back, not invited but came.

Ethan Miller and Chloe.

Ethan looked thin, tired. After his family's $20M investment in Lane failed when Father was removed, Miller Group stock fell. He lost his CEO position last week. He came to see what he lost.

Chloe wore black, no makeup, no I*******m. Her account was banned after the theft report.

My mother squeezed my hand tighter when she saw them.

"Don't look at them. Look at your husband."

We walked. Each step on red thread path.

When we reached Alexander, Mom did what she promised — she officially gave me away.

"Alexander Knight," Mom said loudly, so all garden could hear, "my daughter was poisoned, betrayed, sold, and she still learned to draw light. If you ever make her cry again, I don't care if you are a Knight. I will cut your suit with my sewing machine."

Everyone laughed. Alexander nodded seriously.

"I promise, Mrs. Lane. No more tears. Only midnight milk."

Mom put my hand in his. Her hand was warm.

The priest was not a priest. It was Dr. Patel, who saved Mom. We asked him.

"Do you, Alexander Knight, take Sophia Lane..."

"I do. I did a year ago for contract. I do now for life."

"Do you, Sophia Lane, take Alexander Knight..."

"I do. I did for $1B. I do now for free. Actually he still owes me $1B but I will let it go if he does dishes."

Garden laughed again. Alexander laughed and whispered, "I will do dishes for life."

Rings exchanged. Starlight rings glowed.

"Now you may kiss..."

He didn't wait for the sentence to finish.

He kissed me — in red, in garden, in front of sewing machines, in front of Grandpa's photo.

This kiss was not like rooftop shy kiss. This was wedding kiss. Deep, sure, mine.

Everyone cheered.

Then I did one last thing.

I walked to the back, to Ethan and Chloe, with Alexander's hand still in mine.

Ethan looked up, eyes red. "Sophia... I..."

"Ethan," I said calmly, not angry anymore. Because revenge is not shouting. Revenge is being happy when they are not.

"In my last life, you made me wait for you for 10 years and then you let me die in a fire you helped start. I checked. You gave Lisa the lighter fluid."

Ethan turned white. "What... how did you..."

"Alexander's men found your payment receipt to Lisa, $50,000, three days before fire. Police have it. They will call you next week."

Chloe grabbed his arm. "What fire? What are you talking about?"

I looked at her. "Sister, you wanted my designs. Now you have no I*******m, no Lane shares, no mother. How does it feel to steal and still have nothing?"

Chloe cried. "I'm sorry! I was jealous! Dad said you were always favorite!"

"Sorry is too late for last life. But this life, you can start over. Not as a Lane. As yourself. Go find a job not with my name."

I turned back to the stage where Mom was sitting, tired but smiling, holding Grandpa's photo.

Alexander whispered, "CEO Lane, you are scary when you are nice."

"I learned from you, Mr. Knight."

We walked back to Mom. Grandmother Knight stood up with difficulty and put her pearl necklace on me — Knight family heirloom for real wife, not contract wife.

"Welcome to Knight family properly this time, Sophia Knight."

My mother put her jade bracelet on my other hand.

"And still Lane family always, Sophia Lane-Knight."

I had two family names, two rings, two grandmothers, one diamond that became two, and one husband who finally learned to not just stand behind me, but walk beside me.

The sun set over Lane garden, turning all red thread to gold.

That night, no contract on the bedside table.

Only a new paper, written by Alexander in bad handwriting:

> New Contract — Lifetime

> Clause 1: Midnight milk whenever Mrs. Knight wants.

> Clause 2: Kiss without approval.

> Clause 3: Stand behind, beside, and in front when needed.

> Clause 4: No end date.

> Signed: Alexander Knight (husband, not contractor)

I signed below: Sophia Lane-Knight (CEO, wife, not ex-wife)

And I added Clause 5: Do dishes.

He laughed and did dishes.