I'm In Love With My Bestfriend's Billionaire Fiance!
Chapter 119: A Mission Failed

Chapter 119: A Mission Failed

(Kira’s POV)

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As I drove my car out of Parallel City, the skyline behind me blurred through the windshield like a smeared watercolor—bright, hot, and somehow suffocating. The storm inside me was louder than the city’s noise, louder than the wind whipping against the windows or the low growl of the engine beneath me. My hands gripped the steering wheel with such force, I thought I might snap it in two. My knuckles had gone white.

My entire body vibrated with rage—not just the hot, explosive kind, but the kind that simmers under your skin, coils around your spine, and threatens to erupt in a moment of madness. It was a pressure cooker—and I was the goddamn lid.

"Fucking idiot!" I roared, slamming my fists into the steering wheel with bone-rattling force.

The echo of my own voice shocked me into silence for a second, but it didn’t calm me. Nothing would. My jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached. My vision tunneled, sharp and angry. I had messed up. No—"messed up" wasn’t even the right word. I had fucked everything up in a big way.

I thought I could handle Maven. I thought I could outmaneuver a psychopath, pull strings in secret, and make it all go away like it was some chessboard I was clever enough to dominate.

But I had been wrong.

I had underestimated him. I had overestimated myself. And now, everything was spiraling out of control.

Casey. Jace. Lena.

God, Lena.

I shouldn’t have kept this from them. From any of them. Secrets that deep, lies that twisted, always rot from the inside out. And now I could feel it—that rot—seeping into every corner of my life.

If I’d told Lena the truth from the beginning, she would’ve told me her mother lived in Lakeview. She would’ve warned me. She would’ve seen the trap being set.

But I thought I was protecting her. I thought silence meant safety.

Now it just looked like guilt.

And that guy—that shadow—the one who’d been tailing me through the Rotary Supermarket like some phantom in plain clothes. He wasn’t just following. He was harvesting. Collecting pieces of me one by one: photos, videos, timing, location.

A whole damn portfolio of my humiliation.

He had shots of me pushing a shopping cart like some domesticated fool, picking out loaves of bread and bottles of wine like a damn errand girl. Then came the images of me with Lena’s mother—laughing. Smiling. Hugging.

It wasn’t just invasive.

It was orchestrated.

I could see the headlines forming already. "Secret Rendezvous Revealed." "Mysterious Hotel Visits." "The Hidden Lover." All it would take was a few photos and the right spin, and my life would become a spectacle—just the way Maven wanted it.

"Fuck!!!" I screamed again, louder this time, more guttural. I didn’t care who heard. I didn’t care if I ruptured my vocal cords. I wanted the world to feel my fury.

Without thinking, I jerked the wheel violently to the right, tires screeching in protest as the car veered into another lane. Horns blared. A taxi nearly sideswiped me. I didn’t care. Let them honk. Let them shout.

Let them crash into me for all I cared.

I swerved onto a narrow road flanking the outskirts of Parallel City—a half-forgotten artery running through the industrial zone. Rusted shipping containers stood stacked like tombstones on either side. Shadows clung to them, thick and unmoving. This was where the world seemed to stop caring. Perfect.

I slammed the brakes.

The car skidded to a halt in a swirl of dust and silence.

I killed the engine. The hum died. The world outside went still, and all I could hear now was my own ragged breathing.

My hands trembled against the steering wheel.

Not from fear. From failure.

The silence pressed in.

I let my head fall forward, resting it against the wheel. My breath fogged the glass in front of me. I closed my eyes—and in the darkness behind my eyelids, I saw it all again.

The moment Lena smiled at me in that hotel room, thinking she was safe.

The way Jace had looked at me when he suspected something was off.

The flicker in Casey’s voice last night when she called, asking what was going on.

All of it—fractured now. Tarnished.

And the worst part?

I had no one to blame but myself.

I thought I was buying time. I thought I could fix it, play the hero behind the curtain and step forward once the dust settled. But all I’d done was walk into a well-laid trap with a blindfold on.

Maven had outplayed me. He had the video of Lena walking in and out of my hotel room. He had surveillance of me coddling her mother like some simp-eyed in-law. And now he had motive, proof, and a media narrative ready to detonate.

This wasn’t just blackmail.

This was character assassination.

It wasn’t just my reputation on the line anymore—it was Lena’s, too. And Casey’s. Jace’s. Everyone close to me was a thread Maven could pull to unravel the whole damn tapestry.

I pounded the dashboard once more—hard enough to split the skin on my knuckles.

"Damn it..." I whispered, voice cracking.

I sat there, car idling in the ghost-town road, watching the last flickers of light from Parallel City bleed into the clouds. This trip had been a mistake from the start. A complete, catastrophic mistake.

Just then, Kraven’s car rolled to a slow stop just across from me. He climbed out without urgency, the way predators move when they know there’s no reason to rush. He strode over with that casual, infuriating air of confidence, and before I could react, he was sliding into the passenger seat of my car and slamming the door behind him like he owned the place.

The door’s thunk echoed through the silence like a gavel in a courtroom. A verdict. A sentence.

I didn’t even look at him.

Not right away.

I couldn’t. I was too wound up, too caught in the tangle of my own mistakes to give him the satisfaction. Kraven had always been the embodiment of chaos wrapped in a calm demeanor, and right now, he was the last thing I wanted in my line of sight. And I still blamed him for how the trip had messed up.

"Got something for you," he said, voice cool, unreadable.

I sucked in a slow breath, exhaled through gritted teeth, and turned toward him with barely contained irritation. He held out his phone like it was some kind of offering, an artifact from a darker world.

I took it from him reluctantly.

The screen lit up with an image.

A car.

The same damn car we’d chased before we were run off the road and left bleeding in a ditch like amateurs. Maven’s fucking car!

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" I snapped.

Kraven didn’t flinch. He just tilted his head slightly, that ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.

"Just swipe," he said.

I stared at him for a beat too long, then looked back down at the phone. The image hadn’t changed. Same car. Same angle. Same ominous stillness. With a reluctant flick of my thumb, I swiped.

The second image made my gut tighten.

"That one," Kraven said quietly, "was taken right outside Maddie’s house. He didn’t know I was there. Didn’t even know I existed until that moment. You see, Maven’s was hiding throughout today—but from you. He never thought to hide from me."

Another swipe.

And another.

The timeline began to unravel in front of my eyes. Maven’s car was a shadow trailing mine, lurking at the gates of Lakeview, a silent observer as I entered. The next image showed him behind me on the Parallel City highway, just far enough back to blend with traffic, but now—thanks to Kraven’s sharp eyes and obsessive documentation—I could see the predator behind the mask.

My mouth went dry.

I kept swiping, watching my own life rewind in crisp, damning photographs. Past the plaza. Past the highway. Back... back...

"Holy shit," I whispered, cold creeping into my spine like a breath from the grave. "He was following me even before Rotary Supermarket?"

Kraven didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His silence confirmed everything.

The images kept coming, each one more chilling than the last. And then, there it was.

A snapshot near Silicon Valley. Familiar trees. The curve of the road I’d driven a hundred times. And Maven’s car—always at the periphery, like some malevolent phantom.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my hands, but they wouldn’t stop trembling.

Then came the one image I hadn’t expected.

Paragon Gates.

It was unmistakable. The iron archway framed against a bruised evening sky. My car rolling away.

And parked near the far edge?

His.

"Oh my God..." I gasped.

Kraven didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

"He was waiting for me," I whispered, my voice unraveling. "He was right there when I left Paragon Park."

"That’s one theory," Kraven finally murmured, his voice so low it barely registered over the rain now thudding against the roof of the car. I turned toward him slowly, dread blooming in the pit of my stomach like ink dropped in water.

But I didn’t need him to finish.

I already knew.

The second theory was obvious.

A thousand little pieces were snapping into place, rearranging my memory like a cruel puzzle I hadn’t even realized I’d been solving.

"Maybe..." I said shakily, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. "Maybe he lives there too. In Paragon Park."

Kraven nodded once. Not with triumph. Not even with surprise. Just grim acceptance.

"And if that’s the case," he added, "then he might be someone you already know."

The air in the car felt like it had dropped ten degrees. My breath misted against the glass as the realization settled over me, thick and suffocating.

Someone I knew.

Someone I’d passed on the sidewalk.

Someone who might’ve smiled at me, shaken my hand, exchanged meaningless words.

Maven wasn’t some distant puppet master hiding behind servers and burner phones.

He was close.

Far too close.

And worst of all?

He’d always been there.

Watching.

Waiting.