All Chapters of The Queen Stands Uncoquered : Chapter 21 - Chapter 28

Two days after the $100M copycat show, I was cleaning the Lane attic because Mom said, "If you are CEO now, you should know where all the bills are."I was looking for tax files from 1998. What I found was a wooden box, locked, with no key, hidden behind Grandpa's winter coats that still smelled like his cheap cigarettes and starched shirts.The box said on top, in Grandpa's bad English handwriting: _FOR ELENA IF I DIE FIRST - BURN BEFORE SOPHIA SEE_Elena was my grandma — Grandpa's wife, who died when I was 2. I never met her.The box was locked with the same kind of tiny keyhole as the sewing machine. My jade ring.I tried it. Left three, right two.Click.Inside, not money. Not diamonds. Letters. 30 letters, tied with red thread, yellow paper, ink faded. And a photo.The photo made me drop the box.It was Grandpa — young, maybe 30 years old, 1975, in a bad suit, hair messy — standing next to a young woman. White, British, pearls, beautiful, laughing, holding his arm like she knew h

One week after Stella's viral fall, I was in sewing room at 7 AM, alone, trying to fix Alexander's tux that ripped when he fell. The rip was small but it was right on butt — poetic.Door knocked. Not Maya's knock. Maya knocks like CEO — three fast. This knock was slow, scared."Come in."Door opened and Chloe stood there.She looked different. No Instagram makeup. Hair in ponytail, no extensions. She wore a plain white T-shirt, jeans that were not designer, and old sneakers. She held a small bag and a paper.And her belly. Her belly was big. 6 months pregnant, maybe 7.For a second, I thought I was seeing things. Last time I saw Chloe was at the copycat show, crying, wearing fake velvet."Can... can I come in?" she said, voice hoarse.I didn't say yes. I didn't say no. I just looked at her belly."How many months?" I asked."Seven," she whispered, hand automatically going to belly. "Seven months.""Whose?""Ethan's."The sewing room went silent. Only the clock ticking.Ethan. Of cours

I thought Stella was a tyrant at 6 months old. At 5 years old, she was a CEO tyrant. And I was 8 months pregnant with a boy who kicked like he wanted to sew his way out of my belly.It was Monday, 2 PM, Lane-Knight Academy, third floor sewing room. I was supposed to be on bed rest. Doctor said bed rest because my feet were swollen like bread. Alexander said bed rest because he read on Google that 8-month pregnant CEOs should not sit at sewing machines for 8 hours. Mom said bed rest because she said Lane women always have fast birth and I should stay near sewing machines, not office.But I had a $200M company. $200M does not do bed rest. So I was in sewing room, sitting on floor, surrounded by fabric rolls, trying to fix the gold star patch Stella sewed on Alexander's butt-tux. The tux that ripped when he fell on runway 5 years ago. He still wears it every year for vow renewal. He says it's couture now. I say it's excuse to not buy new tux.Stella and Hope were with me. Stella, 5 years

Stella was 5 years and 3 months old when she started real school. Not Lane-Knight Academy — real school, with uniforms that were not Starlight, with teachers who did not know she was Chief Star Officer.We bought her a backpack that was bigger than her. She insisted on packing it herself: one sewing kit, one star sticker sheet, one business card that said STELLA KNIGHT — CHIEF STAR OFFICER, and one photo of Baby Jian in his drawer-crib."For when I miss him," she said seriously.Hope, 4, did not start school yet. She stayed at the Academy with Chloe and Mom, drawing stars. But she cried when Stella left."Who will stamp APPROVED now?" Hope asked, holding Stella's hand at the gate."I will stamp from school. I will come back at 3 PM and stamp," Stella promised, like a CEO promising a client.Alexander drove her. He wanted to walk her in, but Stella said, "Daddy, CEOs walk themselves in."So he parked outside, in grey sweater — because Stella demanded grey sweater for first day — and wa