I'm In Love With My Bestfriend's Billionaire Fiance!
Chapter 126: What’s On The Flash?

Chapter 126: What’s On The Flash?

(Jace’s POV)

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Casey and I lay sprawled across the plush leather of the VIP booth couch, breathless and tangled in each other, the air around us still vibrating with the intensity of the most powerful orgasm in the world. I watched as Casey’s breasts rose and fell as she sucked in deep breaths, her nipples were puckered from the cold blast of the air conditioning units.

Yet, despite the cold, our bodies were slick with sweat, our pulses gradually slowing from their frenzied rhythm, and for a long moment, neither of us said a word. Words would’ve cheapened it—what we just shared felt primal, sacred, overwhelming.

I couldn’t believe how fast I’d lost control.

One look at her—that’s all it took.

The second my eyes landed on Casey, every logical thought I had been clinging to scattered like ashes in the wind. All that mattered in that breathless moment was the fire in my blood and the way her eyes mirrored the same hunger, the same raw need. It wasn’t about lust alone—it was something deeper. A need to feel her, to be buried deep inside her, claim her, hold onto something real in a world that felt like it was falling apart.

With a low grunt, I shifted on the couch, easing my weight off her, though a part of me never wanted to move again. She smiled up at me, her eyes half-lidded, lips swollen from our kisses, cheeks flushed. God, she was radiant.

"I had no idea how much I needed that," she murmured, her voice still ragged and low.

I reached out, winding a thick strand of her hair around my finger, letting it coil like silk. "Yeah. I needed that just as much. That wasn’t just sex. That was... exquisite."

She let out a small, breathy laugh, and that sound—carefree, completely hers—made something inside me melt.

But then, just as quickly, she bolted upright and looked around, her eyes wide. "Holy shit," she gasped. "We just had sex in a fucking club!"

I burst out laughing, my head falling back against the couch. Her scandalized tone, paired with the absolute wreckage we’d made of the booth, was just too much.

"You love it," I teased, smirking as I looked at her. "Don’t even try to deny it. The thrill. The danger. The possibility of someone walking in and seeing you completely undone."

She turned, giving me a mock glare, though her lips twitched. "I do know a thing or two about thrill," she shot back, lifting her chin. "But this? This wasn’t in the plan. Not with everything going on."

She wasn’t wrong.

I nodded, sobering a little as I sat up beside her. "You’ve got a point. Still, we’re safe. No one’s stepping foot into this booth. I made sure of it." I leaned in, brushing my fingers against her cheek. "But hey—we came here for more than just the adrenaline, remember?"

Her eyes narrowed playfully, and she lifted a hand to her lips in exaggerated shock. "Wait a minute. Are you saying you didn’t come here just to fuck my brains out? You conniving devil!"

That drew another deep laugh from me. God, I loved this woman. I loved how she could be sharp and serious one second, and completely disarming the next.

"No comment," I replied with a grin, reaching down to where my joggers lay crumpled on the floor. I rummaged through the pockets, retrieving my phone and then... the flash drive.

The atmosphere in the booth shifted instantly.

As soon as her eyes landed on the small, silver object between my fingers, the laughter faded from her face. Her posture stiffened, her smile slipping away like a shadow at dusk.

I hated seeing that. Hated that something so cold and mechanical could steal the light from her so quickly. But the reality was, this flash drive held answers. Maybe even the very things we’d been searching for.

"This is it," I said softly, placing the drive on the table between us. "This is what we came here for."

She stared at it for a long beat, her fingers curling slightly in her lap. "It’s so small," she whispered, almost to herself. "Something that tiny... holding something that dangerous. Whatever it may be."

"It’s always the small things that ruin everything," I said bitterly. "Secrets. Lies. One file. One email. That’s all it takes."

Casey reached forward and touched the drive, her fingertips barely grazing it. "Do you think it’s all there?" she asked. "Everything Vic and Maven have against us?"

"I think it’s a piece of the puzzle," I answered. "And if we’re right... it could blow the whole damn thing open. If we know what they have against us, then we know how to prepare a defense. Or a counterattack."

Her jaw tightened slightly, and I saw the shift in her eyes—the transformation from the woman I’d just loved senseless to the strategist, the fighter. The Casey who didn’t back down from a challenge.

Still, I couldn’t let it end like this—with us both swallowed by the weight of what was coming.

I reached out, took her hand gently, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Hey," I murmured. "We’ll figure it out. Together."

Her eyes softened, and she looked at me with that expression—the one that made me forget how messed up the world was. The one that made me believe, even for just a moment, that love could survive warzones.

"You always know what to say," she said, her voice quieter now, vulnerable.

I leaned in, brushing my lips over hers. Not with urgency this time, but with something far more dangerous—devotion.

"I mean it," I whispered against her lips. "You’re not alone in this. You’ve got me, Casey. Always."

"Have you looked into the flash drive yet?" Casey asked, her voice low, almost cautious.

Her question broke the silence that had settled over us like fog. The air in the room was still, heavy with unsaid things and the echo of our breathing. Her eyes, normally warm and teasing, were now sharp with curiosity—and something else too. Fear, maybe.

I shook my head slowly. "Not yet. After we were done questioning Vic, we didn’t exactly have time. We left The Abbey fast. Had to double back to Rotary Supermarket in Parallel City, where the car was parked. Then we came straight here."

She tilted her head. "So where’s Ethan now?"

I shrugged, trying to sound casual. "He should be hanging around. Watching our backs, hopefully. But right now..." I held up the flash drive between two fingers like it was a loaded weapon. "This is what matters. I wanted to go through it with you. Together."

Casey’s body shifted closer. She slid against me, skin to skin, warm and vulnerable. Her full, naked breasts pressed against my chest, and for a second, I almost forgot what we were doing. But the moment shattered the second I looked down again at the tiny, unassuming piece of plastic in my hand.

With a breath that tasted like dread, I plugged it into my phone.

Immediately, a directory popped open.

Two folders.

Labeled Kira and Jace.

"Oh fuck..." Casey groaned when she saw it.

My heart was thudding in my chest like a war drum. My name. Right there. In bold black letters, stamped onto a folder that felt like a coffin.

I glanced at Casey, then tapped into it.

The screen blinked and then populated with more folders—dozens of them. Each bore time stamps, locations, and dates. My breath caught as I clicked on one.

Photographs spilled across the screen in jagged rows. Shots of me. In hotel lobbies, at restaurants, inside my office, and even when stepping out of my car. Always from a distance, always grainy but unmistakably me. Watching me. Following me.

Vic had stalked me for weeks. Months, maybe.

He had documented my every move with surgical precision. Every place I’d been. Every meeting I thought was private. My mansion—God, he had zoomed in on the windows of my own home.

I felt the walls close in.

"My God," Casey whispered beside me, her voice tight. "This is sick."

She was right.

But it was more than sick. It was calculated. Methodical even. Someone had been keeping tabs on me, building a dossier piece by piece. Vic wasn’t just an errand boy. He was a collector. A predator.

I opened a video file.

And instantly wished I hadn’t.

The footage was dark but steady. A grainy shot of the rehearsal dinner night. My car pulling away from the venue. I remembered how that night had gone, how it ended with me and Casey making love for the very first time.

The first night we were ever truly alone.

I winced, hesitating as Casey leaned forward to see. My thumb hovered over the pause button, but then I couldn’t take it anymore. I backed out, abandoning my own folder like a crime scene too gruesome to revisit.

With a muttered curse, I opened the second folder—Kira.

This one was worse.

Just as many files, just as much surveillance. I scrolled until I found the one that chilled my blood.

It was the footage from the Royale Hotels.

The same night.

The same hallway.

Only this time, the camera angle was perfect. Not a shaky, distant zoom—but clear, deliberate, like a sniper’s scope. Vic had booked the room directly across from Kira’s. He had planted himself in the ideal spot.

As the footage rolled, I felt Casey stiffen beside me.

"Oh shit," she whispered, eyes locked on the screen. "This is the video Maven is using to blackmail Kira... isn’t it?"

I nodded grimly.

We both watched in frozen silence. The camera was trained on Kira’s door. Casey exited the room first—exactly as I remembered—and I knew she’d rushed off to meet me at King’s Boulevard right after. The night spiraled from there. It always had.

But this part? This part neither of us had ever seen.

Several sped-up hours later, another figure appeared in the frame.

A shimmer of silver.

A dress.

A flash of long hair and impossibly high heels.

My stomach dropped.

"It’s a girl," I muttered, stupidly. It felt like a revelation and a betrayal all at once.

I turned toward Casey, but she didn’t look shocked.

"You knew?" I asked. "You knew Kira was into girls?"

She shook her head, eyes narrowed. "I only just figured it out."

The footage continued, the figure drawing closer to Kira’s room.

Then she turned slightly, giving the camera a perfect profile shot.

That was when the world tilted sideways.

I sat bolt upright, the phone rattling in my hands.

"Holy shit," Casey choked out, scrambling upright.

My mouth went dry. My skin prickled. I felt like I’d swallowed ice.

There, walking into Kira’s hotel room, was Lena.

My personal assistant.

My right hand.

My shadow.

She had always been polite. Efficient. Loyal. Or so I thought.

But here she was, dressed to kill, walking into a situation that—at best—reeked of conspiracy, and at worst, screamed inside job.

My mind reeled. Had she been planted? Bribed? Turned?

I had a mole. A goddamn mole. Someone embedded in my own team.

And I’d never seen it coming.

My fists clenched at my sides, knuckles going white. The sting of betrayal cut deep. She had been in every meeting. Handled every file. Sat in on every confidential call. And all the while... she’d been funneling information, feeding it to Kira? Vic? To Maven? How the hell was I supposed to know who she was loyal to?

"She was right under my nose," I said, my voice a low growl. "All this time."

Casey reached for my hand, grounding me.

But it was too late.

The damage was done. And the hurt I felt was something I had never imagined I would ever feel.

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