From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 577: Two Brothers Hurt Tonight (part two)

A soft knock on the door cut through the quiet hospital room, making Micah lift his head from the pillow. His eyelids felt heavy, but he forced them open. When he saw who stood in the doorway, he blinked in surprise before a tired but genuine smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Hi, big sis," Micah said, raising a hand weakly to wave.

Willow stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. She wore a simple blouse and slacks, but her usually neat outfit looked slightly dishevelled, as if she had rushed over without thinking. A few strands of her dark hair had escaped her hair tie, brushing against her cheeks. She crossed the room quickly and stopped beside the bed, eyes sweeping over her brother with a mixture of relief and worry.

"I heard from Aria," she said as she leaned slightly toward him. "Are you alright? You look... pale."

Micah huffed a small laugh, though it came out breathless. "Yeah. I’m a lot better after taking the medicine. The doctor scolded me for a while, but I survived." He watched her face closely. "What about Grandma? You were there with her, right?"

Willow sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the IV line taped to Micah’s arm. She smoothed the blanket near his leg, an old habit she had picked up from taking care of him as kids. "She’s asleep. They gave her something to help her rest. Her heartbeat stabilised a little, but she still needs monitoring." She sighed, shoulders dropping. "Honestly, what’s with today? Is our family cursed or something?"

Micah raised an eyebrow at her. "Since when did you become superstitious?"

She let out a small snort and tucked her loose hair behind her ear. "I’m not. Normally. But today? Between Grandma collapsing, you ending up here, and the dinner becoming nearly a circus... It feels too neat. Too arranged to be a coincidence."

"Yeah." Micah shifted slightly, wincing as his stomach tightened again. "I wanted to talk to you about that." His voice lowered, becoming sharper and more serious. "You should be careful. There might be spies in the family. People who held back until now... waiting for a chance to strike. Everything today felt planned."

Willow hummed in agreement, her eyes narrowing in thought. "I’ll look into it," she promised. "I already had a strange feeling. I’ll ask around. Discreetly." She glanced at the IV drip again. "But are you sure you’re okay being alone? I need to go back to Grandma soon."

Micah waved a hand lazily, trying to look relaxed despite the tension in his shoulders. "I’m fine. It’s not like I got stabbed or something. I just need to lie down." He forced a reassuring grin. "Go on. Grandma wakes up confused if she doesn’t see you."

What he didn’t say, even though it screamed in his mind, was that Willow being here made him nervous. What if she bumped into Clyde in the hallway? What if Clyde walked in while she was still here and she questioned them? Micah didn’t want chaos tonight. Not when everything was already on the verge of collapsing.

Willow stood, brushing invisible dust off her slacks. "Alright. Text me if you need anything. And don’t pretend you’re fine if you’re not." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

She walked toward the door, her heels tapping softly against the white tiles. She had already reached for the handle when Micah’s voice stopped her.

"Willow," he called quietly. "The dinner... was it okay?"

She paused, her hand tightening slightly on the metal handle before she turned her head to glance at him over her shoulder. "Yeah," she said slowly. "I heard everyone... welcomed him. Enthusiastically."

Micah let out a breath of relief and grinned, too wide, too goofy for someone lying in a hospital gown. "Good. That should be alright then."

Willow pressed her lips together, swallowing the words sitting at the tip of her tongue. How can you be so stupid? So kind-hearted? So calm about this? He’s taking your place. You should be the one angry. Not happy for him.

But she didn’t speak. She knew Micah. Knew him better than anyone else in the entire Ramsy family. Once he believed something was right, truly right, nothing anyone said would change his mind. Even if he was the one most hurt by it.

So she gave him a faint smile instead. "Rest well. I’ll come check on you later."

With that, Willow slipped out of the room, letting the door shut behind her.

She walked down the corridor, heading toward the elevator. The hallway was dim except for the soft overhead lights reflecting off the polished floor. The hospital was quiet at this late hour, and her footsteps echoed faintly as she passed the nurses’ station.

She was about to turn the corner when low voices reached her ears.

"How is he? How the hell did he end up here?" a man snapped angrily. His voice was low but sharp enough to cut through the silence, sending chills down her spine.

Another voice answered, trembling. "I... I’m not sure, sir. We were playing at the resort, but the horse suddenly went out of control. It threw the young master to the ground."

Willow slowed her steps and turned her head slightly. At the far end of the corridor, near another emergency room, stood a tall man surrounded by a handful of younger men who looked terrified. The tall man exuded authority without even trying, with broad shoulders, straight posture, and eyes behind glasses that looked cold enough to freeze the entire hallway.

He looked vaguely familiar, though Willow couldn’t place him immediately.

The tall man stepped closer to the trembling group, his voice icy. "If anything happens to my younger brother," he said, each word dripping with danger, "you all can kiss goodbye to staying in this country. And I’ll make sure even your families get exiled from the capital."

The young men flinched violently. One of them stuttered, "M-Mr. Lobart, we’re really sorry..."

The others nodded quickly, scared out of their minds.

Willow’s eyes widened slightly. Lobart? As in the Lobart family? She had heard of them, they were from the capital, wealthy and powerful, and were recently trying to expand their influence here. One of their sons was even engaged to the Wilson family’s eldest daughter.

But the way this man spoke... that wasn’t the tone of someone from an ambitious but relatively new family. That was someone who actually had the power to make good on those threats.

Willow watched for another second, then forced herself to keep walking. She didn’t want to get involved in another mess tonight. She assumed the man was speaking out of anger. In moments like these, anyone might threaten something they didn’t fully mean.

She stepped into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, she exhaled slowly, rubbing at her temples.

Meanwhile, Nabil Lobart didn’t notice her at all.

He stood frozen in the hallway, looking through the glass window into the room where his younger brother, Noas, lay unconscious. A bandage wrapped around Noas’s head, his pale face barely visible under the harsh fluorescent light. The sight made Nabil’s chest tighten painfully.

He rubbed his forehead, frustration and fear mixing into a bitter knot in his stomach.

Noas had suffered a concussion after falling off the horse, one stupid, preventable accident. Nabil blamed himself. He should have known his introverted and easily overwhelmed brother wouldn’t handle sudden changes well. Noas wasn’t good at riding. He had never been, yet he somehow had ended up riding one. It was probably the handiwork of these people.

His little brother’s only passion was shooting.

Just last week, after returning from the shooting club, Noas had rambled excitedly about a young man he met there. A silver-haired boy who shot brilliantly, so brilliantly that Noas couldn’t forget him. He didn’t even know the guy’s name. He just described him obsessively, asking Nabil to find him.

Nabil had dismissed it as another phase, another harmless obsession. Noas tended to latch onto people who impressed him. He thought the interest would fade with time.

But now, with Noas lying unconscious right before the auction, Nabil regretted not taking him seriously. If he had just looked into that silver-haired kid, maybe they would have avoided bringing Noas to the resort today. Maybe the accident wouldn’t have happened.

Fortunately, the doctors said it was only a head trauma, no broken bones, nothing life-threatening. But still, Noas hadn’t woken up. And every minute felt like an hour.

Nabil placed a hand on the glass, closing his eyes tightly.