Chapter 46: i’s Gift of Chaos
Ava woke to the sound of her phone buzzing aggressively against her nightstand. It wasn’t the gentle vibration of a reminder or the single chi of a ssage. No, this was the sustained, unrelenting bzzz-bzzz-bzzz of soone calling with far too much energy for this early in the morning.
She groaned, fumbling blindly for the phone and squinting at the screen. The na "i Lee" glared back at her.
"Oh no," Ava muttered, her stomach sinking.
She debated letting it go to voicemail but knew better. i never called just once. If Ava ignored her, there would be five more calls, a string of cryptic texts, and possibly a hand-delivered letter by lunch.
Reluctantly, she answered. "Grandma, it’s seven in the morning. This better be good."
"Oh, it is, dear," i’s cheerful voice chirped. "Are you up? Dressed? Ready for a little adventure?"
Ava sat up, running a hand through her tangled hair. "No. I’m in bed. Like a normal person. What kind of adventure?"
"The kind that involves a very special delivery," i said mysteriously.
"Grandma," Ava said, rubbing her temples. "I don’t have ti for your surprises today. I have clients, paperwork, and—"
"Ryan’s already on his way," i interrupted, ignoring her protests. "Be ready in ten minutes!"
"Wait—what? Why is Ryan—"
But the line had already gone dead.
Ava stared at her phone, half tempted to crawl back under the covers and pretend the call had been a bad dream. But she knew i too well. Whatever her grandmother was plotting, it wasn’t going away. i’s sches were like hurricanes—impossible to outrun and guaranteed to leave a ss in their wake. Ava sighed, her finger hovering over the call log. She couldn’t avoid this forever, but she really, really wanted to.
---
By the ti Ryan showed up at her door, Ava had managed to throw on jeans and a sweater, though her hair was still a frazzled ss. She opened the door to find him holding two cups of coffee and wearing his usual smirk.
"You look... awake-ish," Ryan said, handing her a cup.
"Thanks for the judgnt," Ava muttered, taking the coffee and stepping aside to let him in. "Why are you here, and what is my grandmother up to now?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Ryan said, setting his own coffee on the counter. "She just called , said to pick you up, and ntioned sothing about a package."
"A package?" Ava repeated, narrowing her eyes.
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.
Ava and Ryan exchanged a look before she opened it to find a deliveryman holding a massive, elaborately wrapped box. The paper was gold, the ribbon an obnoxious shade of pink, and the tag read simply: To Ava, with love.
"Of course it’s wrapped like a wedding present," Ryan muttered, helping Ava drag the box inside.
They set it on the living room floor, staring at it like it might explode.
"Do you think it’s a trap?" Ryan asked, poking the ribbon.
"With i, it’s always a trap," Ava said, crossing her arms. "The question is, what kind of trap?"
"Well, only one way to find out," Ryan said, grabbing the ribbon and giving it a dramatic tug.
The bow fell away, and the paper unfolded to reveal... a pair of matching suitcases.
Ava frowned, pulling one out and unzipping it. Inside was an array of impeccably organized travel essentials: travel guides, toiletries, snacks, and—of course—a formal dress sealed in plastic.
"What the...?" Ava muttered, holding up the dress.
Ryan reached into the second suitcase, pulling out a tuxedo jacket. "I’m guessing this isn’t for a weekend getaway."
There was a letter tucked into one of the suitcase pockets, and Ava grabbed it, unfolding the familiar stationery.
Dear Ava and Ryan,
Congratulations on accepting my little challenge! I took the liberty of preparing you both for your trip to New York. You’ll thank
later.
Love,
i
P.S. Don’t forget to smile for the caras!
Ava dropped the letter and sank onto the couch. "She’s insane. She’s actually insane."
Ryan sat beside her, holding up the tuxedo. "I don’t know. She’s thorough. Who packs a suit and trail mix in the sa bag?"
"This isn’t funny," Ava groaned, burying her face in her hands. "She’s railroading
into this convention thing. She probably signed us up for a pie-eating contest, too."
Ryan grinned. "I’d crush a pie-eating contest."
Ava shot him a look. "You’re not helping."
"Hey," Ryan said, leaning back. "Look on the bright side. This could be fun. Fancy galas, matchmaking chaos, sabotaging Ethan—what’s not to like?"
"Everything," Ava muttered. "And why are you so calm about this?"
"Because I know you," Ryan said, nudging her with his shoulder. "You’re already planning how to win."
Ava opened her mouth to argue but stopped. He wasn’t wrong. Sowhere in the back of her mind, she was already strategizing.
"Ugh," she groaned, throwing a pillow at him. "Stop being smug."
Ryan caught the pillow easily, his grin widening. "Never."
---
As they debated the insanity of i’s gift, Ava’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. She picked it up, frowning at the unfamiliar number.
"Hello?" she said cautiously.
"Ava Lee?" a smooth, clipped voice responded.
"Yes. Who’s asking?"
"This is Julian Ashcroft."
Ava froze. She glanced at Ryan, mouthing it’s him, and his eyebrows shot up.
"I’m sorry," Ava said, finding her voice. "Did you say Julian Ashcroft?"
"Yes," Julian replied. "I assu you’ve received the invitation to the International Matchmaking Convention."
"I have," Ava said, sitting up straighter. "Why are you calling ?"
"I wanted to personally welco you," Julian said, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t the welcoming type. "And to let you know that I look forward to seeing how you handle... competition."
Ava frowned. "Is that a threat?"
"Not at all," Julian said smoothly. "Just a friendly reminder. You’re stepping into a much larger arena now. It would be... unfortunate if you weren’t prepared."
"Don’t worry about ," Ava said, her tone sharp. "I’ll be ready."
"Good," Julian said. "Then I’ll see you in New York. Best of luck, Ms. Lee."
The line went dead.
Ava set the phone down, her pulse racing.
"What was that about?" Ryan asked.
"He’s already trying to psych
out," Ava said, her jaw tightening.
Ryan smirked. "Well, that’s a mistake. Nobody psychs you out."
Ava looked at him, the spark of determination returning to her eyes. "Damn right. If he thinks he can intimidate , he’s got another thing coming."
Ryan held up the tuxedo. "Good. Because we’re officially in this now."
Ava sighed, shaking her head. "Fine. But if i packed matching outfits for us, I’m burning these suitcases."
Ryan laughed, but his grin softened as he looked at her. "You’re going to crush this. And I’ll be there to back you up when it all goes sideways."
Ava rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks. I think."
As they started unpacking the suitcases, Ava couldn’t shake the feeling that Julian Ashcroft’s call was just the beginning. i never did anything halfway, and if she called this a "challenge," then New York was bound to be a whirlwind of chaos, competition, and surprises.
Yet, despite the uncertainty—and maybe because of it—a small part of her was ready for it. Because for the first ti, she wouldn’t be facing it alone. Ryan was by her side, and with him, chaos didn’t feel quite so daunting. It felt almost... exciting
---
Later that night, as Ava finally sat down to relax, she noticed sothing taped to the bottom of the second suitcase—a folded note in i’s unmistakable handwriting. Sighing, she peeled it off, already bracing herself for whatever cryptic wisdom her grandmother had left behind.
Dear Ava,
You’re about to face your biggest challenge yet. Rember: trust your instincts, rely on your team, and never forget that a little chaos is part of the process.
P.S. Don’t let Julian intimidate you. He’s all data, no heart. And if things get tough, rember, he hates small talk. Use it to your advantage.
Ava laughed under her breath, shaking her head. Classic i—half sage advice, half instigator. She turned the note over and found another line scrawled at the bottom, almost like an afterthought.
Oh, and don’t forget to pack comfortable shoes. The gala is glamorous, but New York is brutal.
With that, Ava tucked the note into her pocket, her mind buzzing. She glanced at the invitation still sitting on her desk, the words International Matchmaking Convention gleaming in gold. For the first ti, the nerves began to settle, replaced by a spark of determination.
Because for all her grandmother’s ddling, i was right. Ava had faced chaos before, and she’d made it through every ti.
Ryan’s voice echoed in her mind: You’re going to crush this.
And she would. Ava might not know exactly what awaited her in New York, but she knew one thing for certain: chaos or not, she’d face it head-on. Because that’s what a Lee did.
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