From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 152: I’ll be Your Girlfriend, I Guess?!

Clyde stood quietly beside Micah, his eyes fixed on him with a sharp, focused gaze. He hardly blinked, never once looking away. He was watching every twitch, every blink, every small change in Micah’s face. Like he was studying him under a microscope. The na Clyde Du Pont wasn’t just a na. It carried weight. Power, rumours and a reputation that reached far. People reacted to it in all kinds of ways. Clyde had seen them all.

So would flinch the mont they heard it. Their eyes would widen, and they stepped back like they were standing too close to a monster. Scared. Nervous.

So would just stare at him like they were trying to match the rumours with the real person. Wanting to see if he really looked as cold or dangerous as the stories said. So of them would smile too much. Talk too sweet. Try to flatter him, like they had hit the jackpot and wanted to get in his good books. Those types usually had an angle, hoping to get close to the Du Pont fortune or connections.

Then there were people who did not react at all on the outside. Their faces would stay calm, and polite. But later, they would stop answering his calls. Stop replying to ssages. Quietly cutting him off without a word. And of course, a few didn’t bother hiding anything. Their faces would twist with disgust or anger. So would scoff. So would straight up insult him and storm off like they couldn’t stand to breathe the sa air.

Clyde had gotten used to it. Over the years, he had seen enough of these reactions to know not to expect anything better or worse. He was numb to it. Whatever expression Micah made, Clyde was ready. Or at least, he thought he was.

That was why he had told Micah his na in that calm, direct way. No buildup. No warnings. Just dropped it there like a pebble in a still lake. He wanted to see what Micah would do. How he would respond. Then based on that, Clyde would decide how to treat him from now on.

This disguise had beco a safety net between them. Micah would not openly bring up he knew Clyde’s contact with his sister, Aria. Because that would create more problems for Micah. How could he present a sister who looked exactly like him?

Clyde knew what Aria looked like. She looked nothing like Micah.

Micah was clever enough to know that if Clyde ever asked to et them both together, the entire lie would fall apart. So Micah would keep quiet. Playing along.

But as Clyde watched Micah now, there was a small part of him that was caught off guard.

Micah’s reaction...wasn’t like the other. There was no fear, no fake charm or sudden retreat. He didn’t look angry or scared. He didn’t even look uncomfortable.

He looked surprised, yes, but not in a bad way. More like soone who had just stumbled across a clue they had been searching for.

Clyde narrowed his eyes slightly, curious.

anwhile, Micah’s mind had gone blank.

The mont Clyde had said his surna, everything had flipped upside down.

All this ti, after learning the plot of the novel, Micah felt like he was walking a tightrope with no safety net. He had been desperate for soone powerful, soone outside the story’s script, to stand beside him. Soone who could help him hold up the weight of two families and protect Darcy from falling into the hands of those four twisted male leads.

All these tis, he had feared he would fail. He, alone, could not protect all of his loved ones. Even his own safety wasn’t guaranteed.

In the novel, the Ramsy family was played like a fiddle. Their influence was all lost.

He was terrified that when the truth ca out like in the book, when the real young master returned, the Ramsy family would be reduced to nothing more than background characters to push the story’s progress. And Darcy would fall into the hands of those male leads. All his struggles and planning would disappear like smoke in the wind.

That was why he had thought of the Du Ponts.

They were the only family in the novel untouched by chaos. Powerful. Elusive. Unpredictable.

He had spent weeks trying to dig up anything useful about the Du Pont family. He had even considered camping outside buildings ntioned in the book. He was that desperate. But no matter where he looked, he had found nothing. Just rumours. Just scattered branches of companies, none with Du Pont’s na attached. It had felt hopeless.

He had wanted to ask for help. Offer anything he had in return. But how could he, when he couldn’t even find them?

The Du Pont family was more mysterious than the Bermuda Triangle. And Dean Du Pont? The one who fell head over heels for Aria? Nothing! In the novel, Dean was a ghost of a character. No address. No confird workplace. Not a proper description of what he looked like.

Micah had no idea where to start. All he had were scattered clues. Their companies, called La Riviere, had branches in every possible industry, scattered all over the world. Pharmaceutical. Real estate. Mining. Fashion. But each one had a different na and a different leader. None of them used the Du Pont family.

Micah had co to one conclusion: the na Du Pont was sacred. Reserved only for those in direct bloodline. Everyone else was just a shadow in the background.

La Riviere headquarters? It might as well have been a myth. If it were easy to find, Albert Ramsy, his grandfather would have made contact with them a long ti ago.

But he hadn’t. No one had. So Micah had given up hope of ever finding them.

Until now. Until Clyde walked into his life out of nowhere and casually dropped the one na Micah had chased for weeks like a madman.

He stood in the elevator in utter bewildernt. His lips parted like he was about to say sothing, but nothing ca out. His brain had completely stopped working. The na Du Pont echoed in his mind like a giant bell ringing over and over again. He blinked. Once. Twice. The ring of the elevator arriving at the parking level woke him like a spell.

Micah jumped and tugged at Clyde’s arm. "Are you really from the Du Pont family?" his voice was soft and girlish.

Clyde glanced down at him, eyes locking briefly. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Yeah," he said quietly, giving a small nod.

"Wow! Do you know Dean Du Pont?" Micah asked, eyes wide with excitent and disbelief.

Clyde nodded in bafflent. "Why... why do you want to know that...?" he stamred for the first ti in his life. He was caught off guard by the question. How does Micah know Dean, his nephew? Why was he so eager? Wait... hadn’t he seen Dean with Emile?! Then what was this? Why was Micah asking about Dean now? What was happening? Why was the situation so different from what he had thought? Shouldn’t Micah focus on him, the patriarch?!

Micah’s face lit up. He didn’t notice Clyde’s slight change in tone. He was too wrapped up in the mont.

"Ah! I’ve been trying to find him for a long ti! I’ve searched everywhere! I need to see him! It’s really important. Can you help ? Please?" Micah asked hopefully, still in his girl persona.

"Let’s get off first..." Clyde mumbled and strolled out of the elevator.

Micah followed close behind, practically jogging to keep up with Clyde’s longer steps. His long denim skirt swayed along slightly.

"So? Do you know where he is? What’s your relationship with him? Do you think he will agree to et ?" Micah asked, bouncing and jumping up and down like a student chasing a teacher with burning questions.

Clyde didn’t answer. They stopped in front of a sleek black car. Clyde turned around, one hand on the door handle. "So you accept my suggestion?" he asked, looking at Micah with unreadable eyes.

Micah froze. "Huh? No?! What do you an??"

Clyde raised an eyebrow. "You keep asking for help, but what do I get in return?" his voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. "I don’t need to be kind to soone who only takes..."

"Wait! I’ll do it!" Micah blurted. "I’ll do it, okay? I’ll be your fake girlfriend, whatever... But I have classes, I am not free all the ti."

Clyde stared at Micah for a second, then, without a word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small card.

He held it out between two fingers.

"This is my assistant number. Contact him. He’ll tell you what to do."

Micah took it hesitantly.

With that Clyde got in a car and left Micah stunned in the parking lot with a card in his hand.

Micah looked down at it, then flipped it over. Just a na and a number. No logo. No job title.

"Strange? Did I do sothing wrong?! Why did he act so cold all of a sudden?!"

Micah scratched the back of his neck, confused.