From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 744: The Moment Everything Went Wrong, and No One Saw It Coming
Micah’s agitation had been steadily building, rising to suffocate him. The absence of Ilyas weighed heavily on his mind. A few hours ago, they had been eating together, chatting happily and now... suddenly there was no sign of him anywhere.
The room remained empty. The corridors offered no answers. The silence surrounding his disappearance made it harder to dismiss as a coincidence.
Before Leo hung up, he had suggested using live streaming. Or at least gather enough evidence to stop those hiding in the shadows from burying the truth, like they had in their past lives.
Micah was lost in thought.
If Leo’s suspicions were correct, if there truly were individuals operating behind the scenes to shield the stalker through the organisation he belonged to, likely Nabil Lobart’s, then this approach held merit. Public exposure would create pressure. It would limit their ability to manipulate the situation quietly. It would force accountability, or at the very least, hesitation.
It was not without risk. But at this point, in the absence of any clear answers, it felt like one of the few viable options available.
Without delay, he ordered someone to guard the monitoring room and copy the footage, ready to release it if necessary.
At the same time, Micah dialled Ilyas’s number again. The call did not go through. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢
The line was occupied. Micah’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as he lowered the device.
He turned his gaze toward the bodyguard. "There is still no update?" he asked, though the answer was already evident.
The bodyguard shook his head, his expression equally tense. "No, Young Master. He exited the CCTV surveillance range after leaving the cottage. We lost visual confirmation shortly after. But the staff are checking all camera feeds."
Micah pressed his lips together, the unease in his chest deepening. "Where are Clyde and Darcy right now?"
"They are currently on their way," the bodyguard replied promptly. "Young Master Darcy sent the last known location of the stalker. Based on current estimates, he will arrive here in approximately twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes. The number echoed in Micah’s mind, heavy with implication.
"And Ilyas?" Micah pressed, his brows knitting together. "Why would he leave his room?"
The question lingered, unanswered. It did not make sense.
There had been no reason he couldn’t talk on the phone in the room. No reason for him to venture out into the darkness, especially when communication could have been maintained safely from within.
Why step outside?
The unease that had been building within Micah intensified, growing sharper with every passing moment.
The bodyguard adjusted his earpiece, listening carefully to incoming updates before responding. "He was last detected on a call. His location at that time was near the stables."
"The stables?" Micah repeated, his voice tightening slightly. Why would he go there? It wasn’t even cold like last year, when he’d gone to warm up...
Seriously, who was he talking to?
His older brother? Micah quickly dialled Chief Assistant Harper’s number. The call rang and rang, no answer. It was clear Ilyas wasn’t talking to his brother.
Something about the situation felt off. Too coincidental. Too conveniently aligned.
Micah’s mind raced. He exhaled slowly, attempting to steady himself, though the tension remained.
"Was he being lured out? He could not possibly be on a call with his stalker... right?" he said, the words slipping out in what was meant to be a light remark.
But the moment the sentence left his lips, the atmosphere shifted.
Both Micah and the bodyguard went completely still. The implication hung in the air between them, heavy and undeniable.
They looked at one another. Neither spoke. But the same realisation had taken hold.
Micah dialled Darcy’s number without hesitation. The call connected quickly.
"Darcy," Micah said, voice restrained. "What if Ilyas knows his stalker? What if he’s talking to him right now?"
The response on the other end was immediate.
"That is impossible," Darcy said firmly, his tone filled with disbelief. "I’ve been watching him closely. He was never near Ilyas. Not even once. There is no way they could have interacted."
"I do not know," Micah replied, his voice tightening slightly. "But the timing is too precise. He disappears at the exact moment the threat becomes imminent. It does not feel like a coincidence."
There was a brief pause. Then Darcy spoke again, his tone more serious. "We are close," he said. "Do not take unnecessary risks. Wait for us to arrive."
Micah exhaled quietly. "...Understood."
He ended the call. But he was so on edge that even the smallest movement made him tense. His mind refused to settle, filling endlessly with possibilities that grew darker the longer he allowed them to linger. Every passing second without news only deepened the suffocating weight pressing down on his chest.
He checked his watch. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since the call.
He turned sharply toward the bodyguard standing nearby, his voice strained despite his attempt to keep it steady.
"Is there still no news from Ilyas?"
The bodyguard hesitated for the briefest moment before shaking his head, his expression tense and clearly uneasy under Micah’s gaze.
"There has been no sign of him in the CCTV footage," he reported. "We have also questioned the staff, but no one has seen him. However, the boss has already arrived at the gate."
Micah’s expression tightened instantly, frustration and fear flashing through his eyes. Remaining still felt impossible, as though standing in one place would only make everything worse.
"This will not do," he said sharply, already moving. "Let us go to the gate."
Without waiting for a response, Micah strode forward, his steps quick and uneven. By the time he reached the vehicle, his hands were trembling slightly, though he forced them steady as he got inside.
The car surged forward, cutting through the quiet of the night as it made its way toward the resort entrance. The darkness outside seemed heavy. Micah’s gaze remained fixed ahead, but his mind was elsewhere entirely.
By the time they arrived at the gate, several vehicles were already gathered, their headlights casting long, harsh beams across the surrounding area. Figures moved quickly between them, voices low but urgent.
And there, standing at the centre of it all, was Clyde.
Micah did not hesitate. The moment the car stopped, he stepped out and approached him immediately.
"What happened?" he demanded, his voice tight with urgency. "Where is the stalker? Should he not already be here if he was coming this way?"
For a brief moment, Clyde said nothing. Instead, he reached forward and pulled Micah into his arms, the suddenness of the gesture catching him off guard.
"I have already sent people to search along the perimeter," Clyde said, his voice low but firm. "They are checking every section of the fence. Darcy is also trying to track Ilyas’s phone."
Micah exhaled slowly. He pulled back slightly, his gaze sweeping over the scene in front of him. There were multiple vehicles, numerous bodyguards, and a coordinated search already underway.
And yet, despite all of that, there was still no sign of Ilyas. His brows drew together as a troubling thought surfaced.
"How could no one have seen anything?" he murmured. "This road is secluded. There should not be many ways in or out."
Clyde’s expression hardened, his gaze turning distant as he considered the possibilities.
"He could have driven without headlights," he said after a moment. "Or used a route that is not commonly monitored. There are always ways, if someone knows where to look."
Micah fell silent. If Ilyas had truly been taken... If history were repeating itself...
A sharp, painful thought cut through him, leaving him momentarily breathless.
He had known there was danger. He had been aware of the risks, of the possibility that something like this could happen again. And yet, he had said nothing. He had chosen silence.
He had convinced himself that it was the right decision, that warning Ilyas would only cause unnecessary fear and paranoia. He had not wanted the boy to live in constant anxiety, looking over his shoulder at every moment.
But now... Now that silence felt like a mistake. A grave one. If anything happened to Ilyas because of it, Micah knew with absolute certainty that he would never be able to forgive himself.
Beside him, Clyde’s expression grew increasingly severe with each passing second. The tension radiating from him was unmistakable.
Micah took a step forward instinctively, ready to join the search, unable to endure standing idle any longer.
However, before he could move any further, Clyde’s hand closed firmly around his arm, stopping him in place.
"You are not going," Clyde said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Micah turned to him immediately, frustration flashing in his eyes. "I cannot just stand here and do nothing," he snapped.
"You are not fully healed," Clyde replied, his grip tightening slightly. "You’ll only get in their way."
The words were blunt, but they were not wrong. That only made them harder to accept.
Micah clenched his jaw, his entire body tense with suppressed agitation. Remaining still felt unbearable, as though he were being forced to watch events unfold without the ability to influence them.
Time stretched on. Each second felt longer than the last.
And then... a figure appeared in the distance, running toward them at full speed.
"Boss!" the bodyguard called out, his voice urgent. "We found them!"
Everything else ceased to matter. Micah moved immediately, already heading toward the nearest vehicle.
Clyde followed closely behind, and within moments, they were on their way.
The drive felt endless, despite the speed at which they travelled. Micah’s heart pounded relentlessly, each beat echoing in his ears as dread twisted tighter and tighter within him.
When they finally arrived, the scene before them was enough to make his breath catch.
Two men were lying on the ground, restrained and unable to move, their condition making it clear that they had already been subdued. Nearby, Darcy was kneeling beside a vehicle, his attention entirely focused on something inside.
Micah’s heart lurched violently. He did not think. He simply ran.
His steps were unsteady, his body still not fully recovered, and he nearly stumbled in his haste. Before he could fall, Clyde reached out and steadied him, keeping him upright.
"Darcy!" Micah called out, his voice breaking slightly under the weight of his fear.
Darcy looked up immediately. His expression was serious, but there was no panic in his eyes. "He is unconscious," he said. "Most likely drugged."
Micah moved closer, his breath hitching as he looked inside the vehicle. The sight that greeted him caused something inside his chest to tighten painfully.
Ilyas lay there, completely unresponsive. His hands and feet were bound tightly, and his clothes were visibly torn, making their intentions disturbingly clear.
For a moment, Micah could not move. Then, anger surged through him with overwhelming force.
He turned abruptly, his gaze locking onto the two men restrained on the ground. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and struck one of them, his control slipping as rage overtook him completely.
"You! Fucking piece of shit!"
His voice was filled with fury, his movements sharp and unrestrained as he lashed out again.
Nearby, Darcy quickly raised his phone, capturing both images and video without delay. He had not forgotten what Micah had told them earlier. If there truly was someone working from within, someone capable of erasing evidence, then they could not afford to leave anything undocumented.
He had already begun recording from the moment he spotted the suspicious vehicle. There would be no escape this time.
Once he had secured enough evidence, Darcy moved quickly, shifting his focus back to Ilyas.
He knelt beside him and began untying the restraints, his movements careful but efficient. Once the bindings were removed, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Ilyas to cover him.
Then, without hesitation, he lifted him into his arms. "Let us go to the hospital," he said firmly.
Micah nodded immediately, snapping out of his rage just enough to act. He moved quickly to open the car door, making space for them.
From that point onward, everything blurred together. The drive. The hospital. The waiting. Time seemed to lose its meaning as events unfolded one after another.
Ilyas was admitted for observation, his condition was stable but requiring monitoring due to the drugs in his system.
