I'm In Love With My Bestfriend's Billionaire Fiance!
Chapter 122: Vic Morano

Chapter 122: Vic Morano

(Jace’s POV)

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"...and you’re not gonna like it."

Casey’s voice crackled through the phone line like a spark in a dry forest, setting my nerves alight. My grip tightened around the phone, knuckles pale against the dark casing. Her words hadn’t even landed yet, but something in her tone—tight, urgent, and laced with dread—made my chest constrict.

What now?

Was the universe conspiring to unravel every thread of control I had left? What fresh hell was about to drop from the sky?

I inhaled slowly, bracing myself, and stared at her face on the screen. "Okay," I said, voice lower than I intended. "Tell me. Whatever it is, just say it. I have to know, even if it rips everything apart."

She hesitated for a moment. Just long enough to make my heart stutter.

Then she exhaled shakily. "I saw him at Paragon Gates."

My reaction was instant.

"I fucking knew it!" I growled, slamming my free hand against the thin walls of the room, the sound sharp in the cramped silence of the room. I twisted around to glance at Ethan, who stood beside Vic, still gripping the bastard by the shoulder to keep him still.

"I told you," I snapped. "Whoever’s been screwing with us... they’re inside Paragon Park. This whole time."

But Ethan frowned, and his voice was careful. "Hold on. That’s not what she said." He raised an eyebrow, never taking his eyes off Vic. "She said Paragon Gates, not the Park."

The distinction sliced through my fury like ice.

My head snapped back to the screen. "Wait... You’re right," I muttered. "She said Gates." I turned back to Casey. "Why the hell would he be at the gates?"

Paragon Gates wasn’t a location. It was the entryway to Paragon Park—the estate. The fortress. The gleaming jewel of wealth and exclusivity. Those gates weren’t just ornamental. They were a symbol. A statement. Towering, mechanical, and layered with surveillance, they were among the most advanced security installations in the country. Tourists came from out of state just to take selfies in front of them, the way people did with movie stars or rare artwork.

You didn’t work at Paragon Gates. You didn’t just pass through. You were watched, scanned, and approved.

And if Vic was there—then we weren’t dealing with some random lunatic hiding in the shadows.

"Because that’s where he works, Jace!" Casey’s voice spiked through the receiver in answer to my question, cracking the last bit of composure I had.

I froze.

"What did you say?" I whispered.

"Vic is a security personnel at Paragon Park," she repeated, every word hitting me like a stone to the chest. "He’s one of the guys at the gate. The one who opens it, closes it. He’s been letting you in this whole time. That’s how he knows when you and Kira come and go. That’s how he has access to you both."

My vision swam. My pulse throbbed in my ears like a war drum.

"Holy shit..."

The phone trembled in my hand. My mouth went dry. That way, he also had unbridled access to our homes. He could loiter around Kira’s and my homes without sparking off any suspicion. I stared at him in anger, and it all snapped into place like the last clicks of a lock.

That’s where I’d seen him.

Every damn day I passed through those gates—shielded by tinted glass, secure behind wealth and influence—I had seen him. Always smiling. Always with that polite, rehearsed nod. Just another background detail. Another cog in the machine.

But now the mask was off.

I turned my head slowly, my gaze settling on Vic slouched on the mattress like a sack of wet cement. Ethan still had him restrained, but Vic wasn’t struggling. He was calm. Too calm. His mouth was closed, but his eyes were wide open, watching me.

That face...

How had I missed it?

He always played the cheerful gatekeeper. The "Have a great day, sir" type. Harmless. Forgettable.

Except he wasn’t.

He wasn’t forgettable anymore.

I turned to Ethan slowly, my voice barely a whisper. "You drove me through those gates, Ethan. Every time. You didn’t recognize him?"

His eyes flicked to Vic, then back to me. Regret tightened his features. "I’m sorry, boss," he said softly. "I really am. But I see hundreds of faces a day. Besides, I’ve been working in liaison with estate security, and I never saw him once. The only time I saw him was at Paragon Gates and that’s always briefly because of the goddamn face cap he always wears. Also, I didn’t have direct coordination with the estate’s inner security. I was always on the outside, running escort duty or handling outer perimeter protocols."

He shook his head. "It didn’t even register. Not once."

For a moment, I said nothing. I was still watching Vic.

Still imagining him waving me through the gates.

Still hearing his too-polite tone as he leaned toward my window, knowing damn well I was never going to tip him.

Maybe that’s where this started. Maybe it was something petty, or maybe he was always playing the long game.

Ethan’s voice was low. "I’ll get to the bottom of this," he promised. "I’ll find out everything about him. I swear it."

I nodded slowly.

But something told me we weren’t going to like what we found.

"Jace..." Casey’s voice came through the phone after a while, quiet, calculated—like the calm before a storm. "You know what this means, right?"

The words sank like cold iron into my chest. I kept my eyes on her frozen image on the screen, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. We still haven’t found Maven," I murmured, my voice rough with the weight of truth. "But with Vic here... I think he might be the crack in the wall we’ve been waiting for."

Casey gave a slow, solemn nod. "While you’re at it," she added, "ask him about Kira."

Her voice wavered slightly as she said Kira’s name, and I could tell she’d been holding something back—fear, maybe. Guilt. Or something worse. Something heavier.

"I will," I said softly, trying to reassure her—trying to reassure myself.

There was a pause, then she asked, "So, what are you going to do next?"

I hesitated.

But only for a breath.

"I’m staying here," I said firmly. "We’re going to break him. He knows more than he’s letting on. And once we get it out of him, we’ll move."

"I’m coming to you," she said quickly, the urgency in her voice rising like a tide. "Where are you?"

"No." I cut her off before she could say another word. "You’re not coming to The Abbey."

Her lips parted to argue, but I kept going.

"Go to the Chellar Club," I told her. "Wait for me there. Once we’re done here, I’ll come to meet you. We’ve got too much to talk about—and this place..." I glanced around the dim room, the peeling wallpaper like curling skin around old wounds. "This place isn’t safe for you."

A beat of silence.

Then: "Okay," she agreed reluctantly, her voice tight with frustration.

And just like that, the line went dead.

I slipped the phone into my jacket pocket, the echo of our conversation still ringing in my ears. The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was charged. Unsettling.

I turned slowly.

Vic was still sitting on the edge of the worn mattress, his arms tense at his sides, and his posture rigid. His face—once painted with smug indifference—was now a twisted canvas of unease. His eyes tracked me as I approached, a muscle twitching at his jaw.

He didn’t look defiant anymore.

He looked cornered.

"Security at Paragon Park... huh?" I muttered, almost to myself, shaking my head. "That kind of job doesn’t just fall into your lap. Somebody had to put your name forward. Someone with clout. And considering how high-profile that estate is... I can guess what that means."

Vic didn’t answer. His lips pressed into a hard, stubborn line. But I saw the flicker in his eyes.

I took a step closer. "It means someone on the inside vouched for you. A resident. A stakeholder. Someone with something to gain. And that raises the question..." I knelt just far enough to meet him at eye level. "Why were you really there, Vic? What was your job? Was it just surveillance? Or was it something darker?"

His scowl deepened, but he didn’t speak.

"I’m not stupid," I continued. "You didn’t take that job because you love opening gates. You were placed there. To watch me. To watch Kira. You knew our schedules. Our habits. You had access. The kind of access most people would kill for."

"I’m not saying anything," he muttered.

I smiled grimly.

"That’s fine," I said. "You don’t have to."

I stood and turned to Ethan, who was still guarding the door like a silent warden. "Remind him where he is."

Ethan’s face remained expressionless, but he gave a single nod and stepped forward, arms crossed.

"This is The Abbey," I said, pacing slowly in front of Vic. "And unlike Paragon Park, we don’t have HOA guidelines or neighborhood watch patrols. We don’t have gated security or nosy paparazi filming you with the hope that you mess up and create a big-ass scandal. Out here... no one comes. No one hears. No one cares. I’m sure you know all that already."

Vic swallowed hard.

I crouched again, closer this time. "If you scream," I whispered, "they won’t come running. They’ll turn the volume up on their TVs. You think I’m bluffing?"

I tilted my head slightly, and for the first time, I saw it—genuine fear creeping into Vic’s expression like frost spreading across glass.

"You’re going to tell me who sent you," I said, my tone dropping lower. "You’re going to tell me why you’re at Paragon Park. And you’re going to tell me what you know about Maven."

He said nothing.

So I leaned in.

"Because if you don’t," I said, with deadly calm, "I will personally make sure you remember why people used to fear the dark."

He tried to hold my stare, but his eyes faltered, darting to Ethan, then back to me.

I stood up again, slowly, letting the silence press down like a weighted blanket.

As I stared at him, I could see it clearly as my words finally sank in for him. He was finally coming to the realization that he was entirely at my mercy.