I'm In Love With My Bestfriend's Billionaire Fiance!
Chapter 90: On The Way To Parallel City

Chapter 90: On The Way To Parallel City

(Kira’s POV)

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I knew the minute Kraven began to follow me. It wasn’t paranoia—it was instinct, honed by days of trying to navigate Maven’s twisted mind games. As I rolled through the towering gates of Paragon Park, the glint of a black sedan in my rearview mirror confirmed it. He was three cars behind, blending perfectly with morning commuters, but I knew it was him. Kraven was good—so good that if I hadn’t specifically asked him to trail me, I might’ve never noticed.

I didn’t even glance at the security agents as I sped past them. Let them log my name and my car. Let them mark my time of exit. I didn’t care. This morning wasn’t about rules or appearances. It was about staying ahead of the storm—and the storm had Maven’s name written all over it.

I swerved onto the highway, the tires screeching in protest. I dialed Kraven’s number, my fingers steady even though my mind raced a mile a minute. The phone rang once, twice—

"Yeah?" His voice was smooth and sharp, just like the man himself.

"How’s it going, Kraven?"

"All nice and peachy so far," he replied, calm as ever. "My eyes have been peeled open since you left Paragon Park. I’ve seen nothing off yet. But then again, it’s still early. When we hit Parallel City, we’ll know what’s what."

I tapped the steering wheel, a habit when I needed to think. "I’m definitely being followed. This has Maven’s fingerprints all over it. He doesn’t breathe without having someone watching me."

Kraven chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "This guy has to be a parasite. But no worries. I’ve got your six. Just do what you need to do, and I’ll make sure no one blindsides you."

I exhaled softly. "Thanks, Kraven. Seriously."

Maven didn’t have to blindside me though, he had already done that by blackmailing me into this ridiculous trip that I was about to take. And no matter how long I thought about it, the less sense it made to me.

Kraven didn’t respond with words. He didn’t have to. I could feel it in the way he kept his distance but never let me out of his sight. The way he anticipated my turns, my pace, my paranoia. This was exactly what I needed—someone who understood the stakes without needing to be spoon-fed the details.

I ended the call and focused on the road. Traffic thickened as we approached the intercity junction, but I weaved through it like a thread through fabric, my hands steady on the wheel. I didn’t care that I was breaking every speed regulation written in ink—I had bigger problems than a ticket. Any traffic cop knew better than to try and pull the heiress of Beacon Studios over for a traffic violation.

As the jagged skyline of Parallel City emerged against the golden blush of the rising sun, a tight knot twisted in my chest. The city looked peaceful from a distance, almost poetic in its sleepy quiet—but I knew better. Beneath the glass towers and bustling streets, secrets writhed like snakes in the dark. Mine among them.

My hands tightened around the steering wheel as thoughts of Jace and Casey filtered in, uninvited but persistent. I could’ve told them everything. I should have. They were my people—my circle, my safety net. But even the closest bonds can fray under the weight of unexpected truths. That’s what held me back. Fear of the aftermath of truth. A truth so raw it clawed at me every time I looked in the mirror. I didn’t want to see the change in their eyes, the shift in how they saw me. I didn’t want to become a stranger to them because of something I was powerless against—something that’s who I am and who I choose to identify as.

And then there was Lena.

My breath caught at the thought of her. Not because I regretted what we had—no, not for a second. But because it was ours. Hidden in stolen moments, in whispers and glances, in the kind of touch that seared your soul and left no visible scar. I had buried that part of me so deeply I’d almost convinced myself it didn’t matter anymore. Almost.

But Maven found it. Like the sadistic scavenger he was, he dug through the secrets of my life and unearthed the one thing I swore no one would ever find. Not Jace. Not Casey. Not anyone else. That was how he won—by finding the thing I protected the most. Lena wasn’t just a secret; she was a part of me I had never learned how to face out loud.

Now he dangled it over my head like a noose.

I gritted my teeth, the city growing larger in my windshield, taller, louder, faster. Maven thought he had me cornered. He thought his leverage was enough to make me dance like a marionette on invisible strings. And maybe, for a while, he was right. Maybe I had flinched, folded, complied. But not anymore.

I wasn’t going to let him control me. I wasn’t going to let him define what Lena meant, or weaponize my truth like it was shameful. No. That ended now. I was going to use this trip to find his weakness, and then I was going to use it against him.

Whatever game Maven was playing, I was ready to flip the board. The city was waiting—and so was he. But this time, I wasn’t just another pawn on his board.

I was coming for him.

And I was done keeping secrets.

However, as I got to Parallel City, one thought bugged me still, Why me?

The question had haunted me all morning and now I still had no response to it. Why was I the one Maven had chosen to manipulate, to target, to break apart piece by piece? Jace hadn’t received any veiled threats or ominous text messages. Casey hadn’t been tailed by anonymous cars or sent on cryptic errands. At least as far as I could tell.

Just me.

Had I slipped up? Did I miss something critical? Or was this more personal than I thought?

"That’s not going to happen," I muttered to myself. I pressed my foot harder on the gas pedal, feeling the engine respond with a roar. "I’m going to deal with this. Today. Right now."

The buildings stretched skyward, closing in around me like silent sentinels as I crossed the invisible border into the heart of Parallel City. Glass and concrete boxed in the skyline, but unlike the glitzy, polished towers of Silicon Valley, these structures had a rugged honesty to them—functional, lived-in, a little worn around the edges. There was no pretense here. Just life. Raw and unfiltered.

As I approached the shopping mall that housed the supermarket, my fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter. The supermarket itself looked harmless enough—modest and gray, tucked between a laundromat and a pharmacy with a flickering neon sign—but something about it felt...off. Like it was watching me. Waiting.

This was where Maven wanted me. He’d been deliberate, too specific with his instructions. I knew better than to think this was just a casual errand or a random location. There was a reason he’d chosen this place, and I was determined to figure out what the hell that reason was.

I eased the car into a spot near the back of the lot, far from the sliding glass doors and shopping carts being lazily corralled by an underpaid teenager. I cut the engine and let the silence settle for a moment, the quiet hum of the city becoming a distant buzz behind my windshield.

Then, as if on cue, Kraven’s black sedan coasted into the space three rows over. He parked with practiced subtlety, his engine cutting out a second after mine. For a few beats, he didn’t move—just sat there like a shadow wearing a man’s skin. Watching. Waiting. Ready.

He wouldn’t come with me. We both knew that. Maven had eyes everywhere, and the second he clocked someone tailing me too closely, it would all fall apart. Kraven would stick to the background, and I’d go in alone. That was the deal.

I gave a small nod in his direction, then stepped out of the car, the slam of the door echoing louder than it should’ve in the chilled morning air.

Parallel City was a far cry from what I was used to. There were no Teslas humming quietly down the street here, no drone deliveries or glimmering skyscrapers with rooftop pools. This was a working-class hub—gritty, pulsing, undeniably alive. People here didn’t brunch in luxury cafes or network over cocktails on glass balconies. They grabbed lukewarm coffee in paper cups and hustled through rush hour traffic in aging sedans and overcrowded trains.

I didn’t fit here. That much was obvious.

I’d spent my life in gated communities, in the shadow of money and power. I’d never really stepped outside that bubble—until now. As I walked past a woman wrangling two toddlers into a beat-up minivan and a man with paint-stained jeans lighting a cigarette beside a construction truck, I felt like an alien in a foreign land.

How did they do it? These people? How did they survive with so little cushion, with no safety net beneath them?

More importantly—why would Maven want me here?

The giant gates of the mall hissed open as I stepped inside, the artificial blast of cold air brushing over me like a warning. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The air smelled faintly of citrus cleaner and cheap bread.

I was ready to face whatever Maven had for me.

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