From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 581: The Unwritten - (part two)

Micah stood at the glass window, one hand pressed lightly against the cool surface as he stared at the boy lying inside the room. The steady rise and fall of the boy’s chest was faint, barely noticeable beneath the tubes and wires attached to him. Intubated. Monitors blinking. Machines humming a slow, lifeless rhythm.

Micah swallowed hard. His thoughts were racing.

Was there a connection between all of them... and this boy... but why wasn’t any of this in the novel?

It was driving him nuts.

The boy’s condition didn’t seem optimistic though.

He dragged a hand through his silver hair, exhaling sharply. The silence in the hallway made his own heartbeat sound loud. Too loud. And too fast.

He flicked his gaze toward the older brother, Nabil. His posture was stiff, his shoulders tight, his fists tucked into the pockets of his coat as if holding himself together. His eyes didn’t leave the boy on the bed. He looked like a man standing at the edge of a cliff, pretending he wasn’t about to fall.

He’s on edge... Micah thought. No wonder. Anyone would be.

But another thought crept into him, one that made his stomach twist.

Was Silas here... because this boy too?

He glanced to the side. Silas stood a few steps away, hands folded neatly behind his back, face unreadable. He wasn’t watching the boy, he was watching everything. Micah included. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, calculating, like he was quietly disassembling the entire situation piece by piece.

Micah’s jaw tightened.

Was there any way to help the young man on the bed? What if this was the reason the Lobart family targeted Ramsy’s family business? Was it their fault he had ended up in a hospital bed?

Micah’s mind raced, imagining the worst scenario.

"How is his condition? Would he get better?" Micah asked. Thinking he should at least try to help them, maybe even gain the Lobarts’ favour. He really didn’t want them as their enemy.

Nabil finally turned to him. His expression twisted painfully before he composed himself again.

"No one can give a definite answer," he said. His voice was steady, but his fingers trembled when his hand left his pocket.

Micah felt a cold shiver travel down his spine.

"Where did it happen?" he asked.

Nabil’s eyes narrowed. Suspicion. "And why are you asking that?"

Micah straightened. He had prepared for this. He forced his voice to sound natural, a little casual, a little careful.

"You’re a guest in this city," he said, lifting his hands faintly before letting them fall. "Seeing Dr Durant here... you must be someone important. Not only that, I had exchanged a few words with him, finding him pleasing to the eye. I’m afraid someone might have played a trick on him. That wouldn’t be surprising with how I saw his companion behave that day." Micah explained, deliberately stirring up trouble.

If the situation was chaotic enough, no one could confidently blame the Ramsys. Muddier waters meant fewer fingers pointing at them. Micah was afraid they had become scapegoats, getting killed by the real culprit.

Micah had not trusted the novel completely after seeing what had happened to Leo and Archie’s brother. There were too many blind spots, too many things the author never explained.

Why were the original male leads so twisted? Why was the Ramsy family targeted so ruthlessly? What was the real reason behind the chaos?

He needed answers. Yes. He should get to the bottom of this issue.

Nabil’s brows furrowed.

Silas lifted a brow, slight interest flickering in his eyes, but he didn’t move.

Nabil adjusted his glasses, thoughtful. "Did they bully him?"

Micah snorted softly. A bitter sound. "You know how high society works." He folded his arms, leaning slightly closer. "They don’t insult you openly. They do it quietly, smiling while stabbing you behind the scenes. They looked down on him. And he tried to protect me, even though he didn’t know who I was."

The way Micah frowned, his expression grim made the other two men stare at him.

Who had not heard about the young master of the Ramsy family? Foolish, impulsive, ignorant brat. A waste.

But what they saw was a young man able to show compassion for another human being.

Silas stood aside, just looking at Micah in silence.

Micah didn’t pay attention to him. His priority was this Lobart guy.

"It was at a resort," Nabil said slowly, "in the suburbs. Owned by the Sullivan family."

Micah immediately narrowed his eyes. "Which Sullivan? The fabric and fashion branch?"

Nabil nodded.

Micah’s hands curled into fists. "I see."

"You know them?" Nabil asked.

Micah nodded stiffly. His voice dropped. "Their daughter and I went to high school together."

Silas spoke then, voice cold as steel. "You suspect someone. You don’t think it was an accident."

Micah turned to glare at him, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he spun away, jaw clenched.

Nabil’s hand shot out. He grabbed Micah’s shoulder, fingers digging in slightly. "Is that true?"

Micah hesitated. His throat bobbed. "It’s only an assumption," he said carefully. "But they’re scheming people. They like to use cheap tricks."

He didn’t mention Aidan Wilson, not yet.

Charlotte Sullivan. Her sister. Director Allen. Julian. Evan. All of them had threads connecting back to Aidan.

If Aidan had orchestrated this... then the Lobart family and the Ramsy family...everyone could be caught in his web.

"In that case," Nabil said, letting go of Micah as he stepped back, "I’ll look into it myself."

He walked away to make calls, shoulders tense.

Micah didn’t look after him. He was staring at the boy on the bed again, Naos.

Silas remained beside him, arms crossed, gaze unreadable. Watching Micah more than the boy.

Micah ignored him completely. His chest tightened painfully.

It would be great if the boy could wake up quickly. Otherwise, Micah was afraid the situation would get worse.

BZzzzz...

Micah blinked.

A strange buzzing sound echoed faintly, like a glitch in the air.

He glanced around, turning in a small circle.

BZzzzz...

He rubbed his ears. What the hell?

The sound grew sharper, clearer.

"Finding the compatible host... bzzzz.... Target confirmed... data transferring to host..."

Micah froze, eyes widening. His breath caught in his throat.

No. No, no, no... what the hell was that?!

A hallucination? A system? The novel? 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Why did the words sound wrong, yet terrifyingly meaningful?

He took a shaky step back. His pulse raced. Sweat gathered at his palms.

That robotic voice echoed again, cold and mechanical:

"Transfer complete. Binding initiated."

Micah’s heart slammed against his ribs.

What the hell was happening?!