I'm In Love With My Bestfriend's Billionaire Fiance!
Chapter 95: Fear The Abbey

Chapter 95: Fear The Abbey

(Jace’s POV)

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"We can’t go any deeper," I repeated after a while, my voice was low but firm, my eyes were locked on the eerie street ahead. "If we do, we might as well put a target on our fucking backs."

Ethan shot me a sideways glance, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he slowed the vehicle even more. The SUV’s engine hummed like a foreign invader in the dead silence of the Abbey. Every second it remained idling here felt like we were announcing ourselves—and worse.

"Look around," I added, gesturing toward the cracked sidewalks, the makeshift repairs on collapsing buildings, the graffiti bleeding down the walls like scars. "This SUV is the most expensive thing this place has seen in years—maybe ever. It’s like waving a neon sign over our heads that says, ’We don’t belong here.’"

Ethan’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel. He didn’t argue. He didn’t need to. He was finally seeing what I saw. The Abbey wasn’t just rundown—it was desperate. And desperate places bred dangerous people.

"If we drive this thing straight into the neighborhood, we won’t just be risking a carjacking—we’d be making it impossible to leave it unattended. Hell, we might not even get to park before someone makes a move. Not just on the car, but on us as well! ON US!!!"

"And," I continued, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush, "if Vic’s anywhere nearby, it won’t take much. One glance. One flicker of a shiny windshield from a block away, and he’s gone. Gone before we even kill the damn engine."

Ethan nodded slowly, his expression grim. "Yeah... you’ve got a point. But we can’t just leave it out here either. This is still the Abbey. We walk away, and it might not be here when we come back. Or if it’s here, we won’t like the condition we find it."

I exhaled sharply through my nose. Every option felt like a trap.

"Then we find a middle ground," I said, scanning the horizon. "Somewhere safer. A place where the car won’t stand out as much—maybe near that old train yard we passed? There were a few abandoned service garages near it. Places like that attract fewer people. If it means doubling back and walking in, we’ll do it."

Ethan considered that for a moment, then nodded again, this time more decisively. "Alright. Let’s circle back."

I looked down at our outfits—dark hoodies, joggers, worn sneakers. Thankfully, we’d come dressed for discretion. No watches, no flashy accessories. We weren’t exactly Abbey material, but we could at least try not to scream outsiders from half a mile away.

"We park, change the route, and go in on foot," I said. "We blend in. Stay quiet. Observe everything. No sudden moves, no flashing phones. If Vic’s out there, he won’t see us coming."

My heart was thudding with tension, each beat louder than the last. The idea of walking into a place like this on foot didn’t thrill me, but neither did storming in unprepared. This wasn’t some Hollywood stakeout. One wrong step and we could vanish without a trace.

"We better be right about this," Ethan muttered as we drove off to find cover.

"We have to be," I replied, gripping the handle on the door like it was the last piece of solid ground. "Because if Vic catches wind of us first... we’re not getting a second chance."

"Okay then," Ethan muttered, his voice low and unreadable as he twisted the key in the ignition. The SUV rumbled back to life, its hum almost deafening against the quiet tension that now filled the cabin. Ethan threw the SUV into a slow reverse, carefully turning us around without scraping anything or drawing more attention. With one hand steady on the gearshift, he pulled us out of the shadows of The Abbey, back the way we came.

Neither of us spoke.

Not a word.

The air inside the SUV was heavy, weighted with an unspoken unease that curled like smoke in our lungs. My eyes stayed fixed on the side mirror as we retreated from that half-forgotten wasteland. Something about the place still clung to me—like a residue, like the feeling of being watched by something you couldn’t see.

It wasn’t just poverty back there.

It was rot.

Decay.

A kind of silent rage that had fermented for too long in the cracks of crumbling bricks and forgotten lives.

As we approached the fork in the road, Ethan slowed down. The road split ahead, like a decision we hadn’t wanted to make: one way leading toward the sterile glow of Silicon Valley, the other down into the chaos of Parallel City. Ethan glanced sideways at me, his hand hovering loosely over the wheel.

"Uhm..." he said, "where do we go? We need somewhere to park the car. Somewhere safe."

I stared ahead at the two paths like they were choices in a dream—both real, both wrong. "I think the old train yard is too far. Or what do you think?"

He hesitated, then ran a hand through his hair as he surveyed the roads. "Well... Silicon Valley is the obvious choice in terms of security. Parking garages with cameras, on-site security, the whole deal. The problem?"

I raised an eyebrow. "There’s always a problem."

Ethan gave a faint, bitter chuckle. "The price. Parking there for a few hours could cost a small fortune. Not that you care, being rich and all," he added quickly, "But still, it’s not about money. It’s about visibility."

"Go on."

"If anyone spots you stepping out of this SUV, dressed like you’re trying to be not seen, and then getting on a public bus..." He trailed off, letting the image settle. "It’ll raise questions. The media would go berserk. The board would ask questions. Shares could dip—especially with everything else going on. People panic easily when the man holding the empire suddenly starts walking like a ghost."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. He wasn’t wrong. In my world, perception was everything. And right now, I couldn’t afford to look unstable.

"What about Parallel City?" I asked after a beat.

Ethan nodded, a little more certain this time. "It’s not as flashy over there. The paparazzi don’t lurk on every corner because the glitz belongs to athletes and entertainers. You? You’d be invisible. Parking fees are way lower, and most people are too busy trying to stay afloat to give a damn about what the CEO of Chillz Media is doing on a weekday."

I sat back in my seat, thinking. We didn’t have time to debate this. Every minute counted. Kira’s fate, Maven’s next move—it was all ticking, counting down to something we didn’t fully understand yet. All we knew was that Vic was the next link. And Vic was close.

"Alright," I said. "I guess the choice is made. We’ll park the vehicle in Parallel City."

Ethan didn’t say anything. He just nodded once, sharply, and turned the wheel. The SUV veered away from the lights of Silicon Valley and toward the darker, edgier stretch of Parallel City. The road narrowed as we moved, the lanes getting tighter, the buildings closer, the air just a little more tense.

Outside the windows, everything looked harder. Grimmer. The kind of place where people didn’t smile unless it came with a price. It was somewhere most of my employees lived, I had gone there a number of times when I started promotion for my company. Trying to get movie rights and locations for filming had not been easy. But there had been structures in place that made it less difficult than it could have been.

I glanced over at Ethan again. "Do you have any idea where exactly we’re parking this thing?"

He nodded with the kind of confidence I’d come to trust. "Yeah. I know just the right place."

I waited for more. For the name, the location, something. But he just kept driving, the silence growing thick again.

"Well?" I rasped, growing irritated. "Where is it?"

He cracked a grin. "Rotary Supermarket."

I blinked. "As in, the biggest goddamn supermarket in Parallel City?"

"That’s the one."

"You’re sure it’s safe? I thought we were trying to avoid being seen?"

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Safe enough. Cameras don’t work, but no one dares steal there. The owner of the plaza housing the supermarket is ex-military and treats the place like the fucking barracks. Although with the amount of crowds that frequent that place, that must be a lot of hassle for him. I’ve heard that he carries a shotgun everywhere he goes and isn’t shy about using it. No one messes with cars in his lot."

That... was oddly reassuring.

"Is he like... licensed for that shotgun?"

Ethan only shrugged; he had no idea either.

Gripping the wheel hard, he pressed forward and began to drive us towards the supermarket. I could only hope that this detour would not make matters worse for us. I didn’t want to wish that we had gone ahead with the SUV.

Either way, we were getting Maven, one way or the other. Nothing was going to stand in our way. That was for sure.