I'm In Love With My Bestfriend's Billionaire Fiance!
Chapter 100: This Ain’t Deja-Vu

Chapter 100: This Ain’t Deja-Vu

(Kira’s POV)

_____________

The familiarity was still gnawing persistently at my insides, and I was having trouble keeping it within me.

And what made it worse, this wasn’t the general kind of familiarity—the kind that comes from déjà vu or memory. This was more... intentional. The entire structure felt like it was done on purpose. Like someone had built this place from a blueprint meant to trigger something. Like it had been designed not just for comfort, but for effect.

Was this the reason it was so familiar? Simply because I had been seeing the same building over and over since I got into the estate? How the hell did the residents here cope with such a neighborhood?

I took another slow turn, following the instructions to the letter. The road straightened. The screen blinked again.

Destination: 300 feet ahead.

As I neared the house, a cold prickle crept up my spine. The building looked just like the others—perfectly placed, perfectly unremarkable—but something about it held my gaze longer than the rest. Maybe it was the way the shadows wrapped around it. Maybe it was the absence of any movement—no flutter of curtains, no car in the driveway.

Or maybe it was just my instincts screaming that this place was wrong. I wasn’t supposed to be there, yet I couldn’t stop myself.

I brought the car to a stop.

My hands lingered on the wheel.

There it was again—that whisper of memory. A scene half-remembered, buried under days of chaos and stress. Something in the shape of the windows. The layout of the porch. The symmetry of it all. Why was it so hard to figure it out?

But then, the thought hit me! It was familiar because I had seen this house before.

The thought lodged in my chest like a stone. I looked around again, wondering how this was even possible, my eyes scanned every window, every rooftop. The stillness was suffocating. Even Kraven, somewhere behind me, was hidden from view now—just another ghost in this sterilized maze of wealth and silence.

I turned the engine off.

And for a moment, I just sat there.

Wondering if I was about to step into something that I wouldn’t be able to step out of. I knew my thinking was wrong. There was no way I had been to Lakeview before, I was certain I would have remembered it if I had. Yet, I was certain that I had seen this house before.

The mapping system emitted a sharp, almost impatient beep, its robotic voice confirming: You have arrived at your destination.

I sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel tightly, as if that cold, plastic ring could anchor me against the unease climbing my spine. Outside, the house stood still—plain, suburban, indistinguishable from the ones around it. Yet, the very air about it made the air in my lungs feel heavier.

With a low exhale, I grabbed the grocery bags from the passenger seat and stepped out, the door shutting with a mechanical click behind me. The lock engaged automatically—clean, efficient.

There was no turning back now, I had already come this far.

"What the hell now?" I muttered under my breath, adjusting the weight of the groceries in my arms. I was here. The exact location Maven had directed me to. I’d played delivery girl for someone I didn’t know, for reasons I didn’t understand. Judging by the neighborhood, it had to be for someone elderly.

Which made it all the more bizarre.

Why was I doing this? Why me? Why here?

The wind shifted, and with it came the faint rustle of trees behind the house. A single leaf drifted down, spiraling in slow motion like something out of a dream—or a warning.

Then my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I juggled the bags awkwardly, nearly dropping one as I fished it out. The screen lit up with a message.

MOVE!

Just that. All caps. No signature. But I didn’t need one. Not when I knew exactly who sent it.

"Shit..." I hissed, already climbing the front steps. The wood creaked beneath my shoes, sharp and sudden, like it was trying to draw attention. My heart thudded in response. Every step felt louder than the last, echoing in the stillness around me.

I reached the front door.

The house was quiet. The kind of silence that hums in your ears when there’s no sound left to process. I lifted a hand, hesitated for a heartbeat, then stabbed the doorbell.

Ding-dong.

Then nothing.

I shifted my weight. My eyes scanned the porch, the eaves, the neighborhood. All still. Too still. The perfectly trimmed hedges stood like soldiers, stiff and unmoving. There was no breeze now. No birdsong. Just that hollow pause between what was and what was about to be.

And then—footsteps.

Faint. Shuffling. Uneven.

They drew closer, accompanied by the soft metallic click of locks being disengaged. One. Two. Three. A chain being slid free.

A voice called out, muffled but distinct.

"Who’s there?"

Female. Aged. Just as I’d guessed.

"I’m coming..."

The last lock slid open, and then the door creaked as it slowly swung inward.

I tensed instinctively. Muscles coiled. Adrenaline spiked. My body braced itself for something—anything. Fight or flight, I didn’t know what I expected. Was this a trap? A camera? Someone with Maven’s signature smug cruelty waiting on the other side?

But then, my breath caught.

The woman standing before me was not a stranger. Not completely.

No—we had never met before. Not in person. But the moment I saw her, my mind fractured with recognition. My mouth fell open in shock and horror, and the bags nearly slipped from my grasp.

I knew her.

Not from reality. From photographs. From stories. From memories that didn’t belong to me, but to someone who meant more than I could admit.

She was Lena’s mom.

She looked older than the pictures, more fragile. Her skin was thinner, papery around the eyes. Hair gray and tied back into a loose bun. But the eyes—those soft, sad eyes—they were unmistakable. The same ones Lena had when she was lost in thought. Or when she was trying to be strong while everything around her fell apart.

It hit me like a punch to the chest.

Of all the people. Of all the places.

Now I understood why the house had felt familiar. Why the layout scratched at the edges of my mind. I had seen bits of this house before—cropped frames in background photos Lena once shared with me during quieter, better times. Holiday snapshots. Childhood memories she had let slip when she was feeling safe enough to be vulnerable.

And now I stood here. Holding groceries. Sent by a manipulative bastard who somehow knew this place, knew this woman.

Knew me.

"Can I help you?" she asked gently, her voice uncertain but not fearful. She looked at the bags in my hands, confusion softening her features. "Are those for me?"

I couldn’t speak. My throat had gone dry. The questions screamed in my head: Why here? Why her? Was she in danger? Was she part of this? Or just another pawn?

"I... uh... I..." I had no idea what to say.

I simply stood there, staring at my girlfriend’s mother like she had just fallen right out of the sky.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.