All Chapters of Chaos in Heels: Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

The next day, Deja snuck out of the house claiming she needed "fresh air" and made a beeline for the mall—not the fancy one her family frequented, but the run-down one on the edge of town that sold knockoff designer items and questionable fast fashion."This is perfect," Deja muttered as she pushed through the doors of "Glamour Discount Palace," a store with flickering fluorescent lights and an inexplicable smell of corn chips. "This place has definitely seen a fistfight."A bored-looking saleswoman glanced up from her phone. "Can I help you?""Yes. I need the ugliest dress in this entire establishment. Like... make-it-stop ugly. Like, 'she's not okay' levels. Think fashion felony."The woman blinked slowly. "...We have a clearance rack in the back."Thirty minutes and several horrified gasps later, Deja emerged from the dressing room triumphant. "THIS. Is my villain fit,"It was neon yellow, covered in sequins that twitched in the light like they had opinions. The neckline was so low

The partygoers around them gasped. Deja's hand was still in mid-air, the sting of the slap still singing in her palm. "You arrogant, manipulative, emotionally stunted gremlin of a man!" she hissed, voice trembling with rage—or maybe leftover adrenaline. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"Ren just stared at her, unbothered, like she was the one losing her mind (she kind of was), and that only made it worse."I don't belong to anyone!" Deja's voice echoed through the ballroom, shattering the sophisticated chatter. "Enjoy your damn party."Guests stared. Cameras flashed. Someone definitely dropped their champagne glass.She didn't care. Her chest was tight. Her skin was burning. And her heart—traitorous heart—was pounding like it was trying to beat its way out of her ribs and go kiss him again.Absolutely not.But then—"Deja?"Her mother's voice.Of course."What!" Deja spun around, her heart racing. Had she actually just slapped Ren in front of everyone? Oh boy."What on earth is th

They entered the restaurant together, greeted immediately by a maître d' who recognized Ren on sight."Mr. Zuo, welcome back. Madame is already seated at your usual table."Usual? Y'all just be out here fine dining like it's Taco Tuesday, huh?As they were led through the dimly lit restaurant, Deja's nerves suddenly kicked into overdrive. What if Ren's mother was truly terrible? What if she saw right through Deja's façade? What if—And then they were standing before the table, and Deja found herself face-to-face with Mrs. Zuo.The woman was the epitome of elegance—silver-streaked black hair pulled back in a flawless chignon,

The Moreau Logistics headquarters was giving "late-stage capitalism meets luxury prison," and Deja was not impressed. As Deja stepped out of her car (she'd insisted on driving herself today rather than taking the family driver), she took a deep breath and braced for the gauntlet of judgmental glances. But she had a plan.She was gonna turn this into a game of matchmaker chaos. Forget business—today was about shaking things up and watching the drama unfold.She walked through the lobby, noting with some satisfaction the shocked looks her appearance garnered from the impeccably dressed employees. The receptionist almost didn't recognize her, doing a double-take before stammering out a greeting."Good morning, Miss Moreau. You're... here."

Outside, the cool evening air was a welcome relief from the tension indoors. The terrace overlooked immaculately landscaped gardens illuminated by strategic lighting that made the scene look almost magical."You okay?" James asked once they were alone."I mean, I almost got baptized in Dom Pérignon, but yeah. I'm great," Deja said, brushing imaginary glitter off her shoulder. "Thanks for the block."James chuckled. "Your cousin's... intense.""Facts," Deja muttered. "She's like if unresolved childhood trauma joined a sorority."They stood in silence for a beat, the night air cool and heavy with expensive flowers.