From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 197: Before He Shuts Me Out

Clyde drove with the pace of a turtle, hands steady on the steering wheel as the afternoon sun spread past the windshield. His eyes kept flicking to the passenger seat where Micah sat slumped against the door, still fast asleep. The coat wrapped around him was pressed against his chin, his hand clutching it tightly, and his face, usually full of sass and sharp remarks, looked calm and peaceful. Clyde didn’t dare turn on the radio or even touch the gas pedal. He didn’t want to risk waking the boy.

When they finally arrived at his building, Clyde pulled into the underground parking space and switched off the engine. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out. He rounded the car slowly and opened the passenger door with care. Clyde hesitated for a second, then crouched down. He unbuckled Micah’s seatbelt.

Micah didn’t stir, only let out a soft sigh and curled a little more into the coat.

"Still out cold," Clyde murmured under his breath.

He gently slipped an arm under Micah’s back and the other beneath his knees. With slow movents, he lifted him out of the seat, holding him close. Micah’s head rolled slightly against Clyde’s shoulder, a few curls tickling his neck. Clyde adjusted his hold, careful not to shake him too much. The boy was warm and far too light. The walk to the elevator was quiet, the only sound was the click of Clyde’s shoes against the tiled floor. Once upstairs, he unlocked his door with one hand, nudging it open with his foot.

It creaked softly. He stepped inside and walked straight to the guest bedroom. Clyde lowered Micah onto the bed gently, making sure the boy’s head landed squarely on the pillow. Micah’s brow twitched a little, but he didn’t wake up. Just rolled his head slightly to the side, lips parting.

Clyde crouched again and reached for Micah’s glasses. He folded them and set them neatly on the nightstand. Then he removed Micah’s shoes one at a ti, placing them near the foot of the bed. Finally, with so hesitation, he slipped the boy’s blazer off his shoulders and laid it over the back of a chair. Micah shifted once but remained asleep.

Clyde stood there for a mont, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving Micah’s face.

His gaze travelled slowly across Micah’s face. Those long, curled lashes resting against pale cheeks, the small crease between his brows, his straight nose, and those lips that were usually pressed into a smirk or a frown. Clyde let his eyes linger, morising each feature like he wouldn’t get another chance.

He sat there longer than he should have, letting his emotions stir. Then he let out a soft sigh, stood up, and quietly backed out of the room, shutting the door without a sound.

Once in his study, he sank into the chair at his desk and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. His hands folded over his chest. The calm he had tried to maintain on the drive was starting to slip.

What the hell had happened today?

Micah’s panic attack...

If he hadn’t followed him, if he hadn’t found him, what would have happened to Micah?

Trapped in that restroom stall, unable to breathe, alone and afraid...

Clyde shut his eyes. Even thinking about it made his heart ache.

Sothing was weighing on Micah, heavy and painful, but Clyde didn’t know what. That part drove him crazy. If it were before, before knowing Micah trusted and relied on him, he would have had his assistant dig into it already, pull up CCTVs, ask around, and call in favours. But now...

Now it was different.

Clyde leaned forward, elbows on the desk, and rubbed at his face. He didn’t want to do sothing that would make Micah hate him or lose his trust. That kid was proud and stubborn. The mont he found out Clyde was digging behind his back, he would shut him out completely. Clyde had no doubt.

But asking directly... That thought wouldn’t work either. Micah would just get defensive. Maybe yell. Maybe say sothing cutting. Clyde could already imagine it.

Clyde pinched the bridge of his nose. It was a habit he had picked up lately. Ever since Micah entered his life. And it was always because of Micah.

Despite everything, his lips stretched upward.

He didn’t dislike it. He didn’t mind.

Clyde tapped his fingers rhythmically on his desk. Now that he had co to understand his feelings, and how deeply he cared for Micah, he didn’t want to deceive Micah anymore.

But coming straight and saying ’Hey, I know you are crossdressing.’ would not be wise. The boy was full of pride and got easily embarrassed.

What about his account? RiverBridge? The one Micah still thought belonged to Aidan Wilson? The one Clyde had used to lure him to that charity gala? Could he tell the truth now? What if Micah left him? Cut ties with him?

Clyde groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He was in a deep dilemma. Micah would absolutely lose it.

He leaned back again and stared at the ceiling. "God. I’m such a coward."

Clyde knew he should have cleared it up a long ti ago. Not now... that he had pretended he was Aidan. Now it was too late. And yet, waiting only made the damage worse. Whether he told Micah now or later, the boy would be furious either way. Hurt, too. And Clyde hated the idea of being the one who put that look in his eyes.

But at least, he thought bitterly, if he waited, he could help Micah get through whatever ss he was facing now. If he ca clean before that, he would lose any chance of helping him, he would be cut off.

Clyde chuckled dryly and ran a hand through his hair. He knew he was just making excuses. The truth was he wanted to stay close to Micah. He didn’t want to be pushed away. The idea of Micah cutting ties with him scared him more than he cared to admit.

He leaned forward again, resting his forehead on his palms, breathing out slowly through his nose.

He was in too deep.