From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 598: Old Wounds

Micah’s plan to sneak a peek at his boyfriend’s naked body failed spectacularly the moment his fingers closed around the bathroom door handle. Before he could push it open and enjoy the view, his phone rang. Loud. Sharp. Startling.

The sound cut through the soft rush of running water like a knife, jolting him so hard that his hand slipped off the door handle. Micah hissed under his breath, heart leaping into his throat.

"Damn it..."

He spun around, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug as he scrambled back toward the bed. His phone was vibrating angrily on the bedside table, screen lighting up the dim room in short, impatient flashes. The caller ID made him groan. There was no way he could dismiss the caller.

Micah sucked in a breath, forced himself to calm down. After countless lifetimes of abandonment, Micah’s feelings toward Ramsy’s family had grown complicated. Still, he answered before it rang out.

"Dad?"

"Son, where are you?" Jacob’s voice came through the speaker, low and tired.

Micah tensed slightly but forced his voice to sound casual. "I’m at my friend’s house. Why? Did something happen?"

"No," Jacob said quickly, then paused. "I was just checking on you. Your sister said you were discharged already."

"Mm," Micah glanced back toward the bathroom door. The sound of water was still running. "It wasn’t anything serious. I’m fine." Another pause. Then quieter, "How’s Grandma?"

"She is still in CCU. No visitors allowed," Jacob said. There was a hint of sadness in his voice.

Micah’s brows knit together. "What about mum and grandpa?"

"They’re holding on," Jacob replied vaguely, then cleared his throat. "Anyway, if you can, come home."

Micah’s eyes welled up. It had been a long time since he had heard his dad’s gentle voice.... Or being asked to go home. Those endless nightmares when he desperately waited for their call...

Micah swallowed the lump stuck in his throat. "Sorry Dad, but I have a plan tonight. Tomorrow I’ll come to see you."

Before he could hear his dad’s response, the faint creak of the bathroom door came from behind him.

He turned his head eagerly.

Clyde emerged from the bathroom, a bathrobe loosely tied around his waist, sleeves pushed up to his forearms. He was towelling his hair dry, droplets clinging stubbornly to his temples and the edge of his jaw. The steam of the shower followed him, curling lazily into the cooler air of the bedroom.

The scene was so mesmerising that Micah forgot how to breathe. His gaze locked onto Clyde as if magnetised. He didn’t hear a single word Jacob was saying anymore. His eyes burned with intensity, wide and unblinking, like a starving ghost suddenly confronted with something far too tempting.

Clyde noticed. He paused mid-motion, towel still pressed to his hair, and lifted his head. Their eyes met. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

For half a second, neither of them moved. Then Clyde smirked, knowingly. Micah snapped out of it like he had been caught stealing. He jerked his gaze away and turned his back, pressing the phone tighter to his ear while humming a vague sound of acknowledgment. "Mm...yeah.."

"Son," Jacob’s voice filled with delight. "Hey, are you serious about it?"

Micah swallowed hard, throat dry, realising he had agreed to something he had no idea what it was. Micah inwardly lamented his predicament, beauty really could endanger a whole country. "About what?"

There was a beat of silence on the line. Then Jacob sighed, long and weary. "I knew it. It was too good to be true..." he mumbled.

Micah winced and scratched the back of his head. "Dad..."

"I was saying there is an auction tonight," Jacob repeated. "What if you go with your brother? Willow doesn’t want to go. She says if she shows up with Darcy but without you, people will start gossiping, saying we threw you out or something."

Micah’s expression turned thoughtful. He paced a few steps across the carpet, bare feet sinking into the plush fibre. "Do you think people already know?"

Jacob snorted softly. "You know your great aunts and uncles. They probably told everyone they know by now,"

"So whose idea was this?" Micah asked, rubbing his temple. "I thought you would throw a banquet, introduce Darcy formally."

"It was your grandfather’s wish. He believed they were an excellent tool for spreading the news first. He didn’t want to overwhelm Darcy. And honestly, we were worried your brother could not handle it. But he had exceeded our expectations." Jacob explained.

Micah chuckled softly. "Yeah. He is the real deal."

He stopped pacing and leaned against the window, rain streaking down the glass inches from his face. "But I am sorry, Dad. I can’t cancel tonight. Willow should take him."

Jacob sighed, disappointed. "Alright. I’ll talk to your brother then."

"Has he agreed already?"

"Yes," Jacob said.

Micah pursed his lips. What a dilemma. How was he supposed to appear as Asena in front of Darcy or Willow? What if they noticed something was off? What if they recognised him?

Of course, Micah had used this disguise since losing his protagonist aura. In his first life, Darcy had never seen him as Asena. So he was safe for now. But both Willow and Darcy were smart and perceptive, recognising him beneath the disguise was only a matter of time.

His gaze drifted to Clyde who had changed into a fitted polo cardigan and neat pants. He stood by the dresser, buttoning his cuff calmly, hair still damp, posture relaxed.

Micah’s feet carried him forward before his mind caught up. He stopped behind Clyde, slid his free arm around his waist, and rested his forehead lightly against Clyde’s shoulder blade. His grip was gentle but unmistakably clingy.

Clyde turned his head slightly, brows lifting in silent question.

Micah did not meet his eyes this time. Talking this casually with his father was a surprise even to himself. Yet, the knot in his chest throbbed recalling his past lives.

"Son?" Jacob called again through the phone.

Micah snapped it out. "Yeah, I am here."

There was hesitation on the other end, then Jacob asked softly. "Are you mad at us for not protecting you, even in our own house?"

Micah’s chest tightened.

"Why would I be?" He said after a moment, forcing his voice to sound cheery. "It was my own fault for not noticing the drink was strange."

"Don’t belittle yourself." Jacob scolded gently. "I never imagined someone from my own family would do something like this..."

Micah’s fingers tightened unconsciously around Clyde’s waist. "Have you found out who it was?"

"Not yet. The staff member who switched your drink was a temporary hire, a substitute for someone else." Jacob paused. "But your Grandpa says he has an idea."

"Then...Do you know?" Micah asked, noticing Clyde was rubbing his hand gently.

"No, I have my suspicion, but your grandpa hasn’t said a word," Jacob replied. "Anyway, we’ve learned our lesson. I promise nothing like this will ever happen again in Ramsy’s mansion. Not to you. Not to your brother."

"I know, Dad. Don’t worry. I’ll drop by tomorrow." Micah said and ended the call.

For a few seconds, neither he nor Clyde spoke.

Then Clyde tilted his head and murmured near his ear, "What’s wrong? Why so clingy all of a sudden?"

"...Nothing," Micah muttered. "I just feel like standing like this."

Clyde didn’t push him away.

Instead, he reached down and squeezed Micah’s hand reassuringly.

Micah closed his eyes. The warmth helped, but only a little. Because beneath the surface, the past was stirring.

The person who had switched the glass was someone no one suspected. Vivian. His cousin.

That was why his grandfather had stayed silent.

Micah had known it even before Jacob said anything. He had read it in that light-hearted shounen ai book. Vivian was a minor antagonist. All of it started years before the plot started.

The memory surfaced uninvited.

They had been eight years old, running barefoot along the beach, searching for crabs. Micah had stayed out too long under the sun and ended up hospitalized with severe sunburn.

Because he was the heir, Vivian had taken the blame.

Her parents scolded her harshly. At school, she was isolated. Other kids, eager to curry favor, mocked her, called her jealous, said she’d tried to hurt Micah on purpose.

Micah hadn’t known.

His parents and grandparents had never blamed Vivian. But others did. And that quiet resentment had grown.

After that, Vivian could never stay calm around him. She snapped easily. Cornered him with biting remarks. At first, Micah thought she was just mean.

He hadn’t understood.

In his first life, he had drunk the spiked glass. Darcy had been framed.

After the roles changed, Darcy drank it instead.

The most infuriating part was that Vivian had no personal grudge against Darcy. And yet, every time, that glass ended up in Darcy’s hand.

And the blame always fell on Micah.

What grudge did that system have against the two of them that all those petty schemes dumped on either Micah or Darcy?

Ahh...

This incident hadn’t even happened until some time after the birthday banquet in his previous life. Now it had happened early.

Micah felt a wave of helpless frustration.

So even if he changed the setting... the scheme still found its way through.

His head ached.

He had overturned the plot recklessly, blind to the consequences. Now he didn’t know what would happen next, or when.