From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 271: Wrong Timing

A sharp honk pierced the air, jerking both Micah and Clyde out of the serene mont that had settled between them. Micah flinched in surprise, head snapping toward the sound. Clyde dropped his hand, his jaw tightening as he turned to look behind their car.

Two jeeps were at the bottom of the drive, idling with their engines purring like restless beasts. In the lead vehicle, the window rolled down, and a familiar head popped out.

Dylon leaned halfway out, one hand gripping the doorfra. "Hey!" Dylon shouted, his voice echoing off the nearby stone walls. "Open the damn gate already! What are you doing just standing there?"

Clyde didn’t respond. He rely stared at the jeeps with the chilling calm of a predator whose al had just been snatched away.

He had been this close. This close to opening up. He had finally found the ti to be alone with Micah. And not just that. They were even having a heart-to-heart talk. He could see Micah had softened near him, ready to show his vulnerability. To say sothing real. Sothing important.

Clyde also had been ready to talk more about himself and let Micah know that he had seen through all his secrets. And of course, it had to be now that they showed up and ruined everything.

So damn annoying. Clyde’s gaze hardened. His usually cool expression twisted into a look that could have frozen the air. There was sothing genuinely murderous in it now.

Dylon, still hanging out the window, felt a chill run down his back.

He leaned back inside and muttered to Lin Heye beside him. "Hey, why does he look like he wants to kill soone?"

Lin Heye, sitting awkwardly with a water bottle in his lap, didn’t respond imdiately. His eyes were locked on Clyde, then flicked to Micah, then back to Clyde again. Mason, in the back seat, craned his neck to get a look and grimaced.

"Wrong timing," Lin Heye muttered under his breath. "Very, very wrong timing."

Micah turned slightly and nudged Clyde with his elbow. "Co on," he said in a low voice. "Let’s go inside."

Micah was embarrassed to be caught with Clyde patting his head like so needy kid. He just wanted to hide for now.

Clyde exhaled and masked his irritation behind a flat expression, and gave Dylon one last glaring look, then turned and walked back to the car without a word.

Micah followed him silently. They drove up the inclined road that led toward the residential complex. They reached the condo. The car slowed in front of the building’s entrance, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Clyde parked the car and turned toward Micah.

Before he could say anything, Micah’s phone rang. He fumbled for it, smiling when he saw the na lighting up the screen.

Darcy.

Clyde noticed the na too. His expression darkened briefly. Then Micah turned his head and t his. Clyde gave a small nod and stepped out first, giving Micah the privacy he didn’t even need to ask for. His tall fra cast a shadow on the ground as he moved away from the car. But his heart squeezed tighter and tighter with bitterness.

Micah quickly answered. "Hey," he said, voice soft. "Are you alright?"

There was a pause on the other end. The faint sound of breathing. Then Darcy’s voice ca through, quiet and uncertain. "You’re not mad?"

Micah rolled his eyes. "Of course I’m mad!" he said, clicking his tongue. "You two went behind my back to clash like idiots! If you have a problem with getting involved, you should’ve at least told before tearing each other apart like a cat and a dog."

"What fighting?" Darcy asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Micah smirked. He knew Clyde would never lie to him. But with how tense he was when he said he had warned Darcy or how scary he looked at the hospital, Micah had assud the worst. He had gotten really worried for Darcy.

But Darcy seed taken aback by his words. So it must have been just so bickering rather than brawling. Nothing serious.

"Never mind," Micah said, his voice turned serious. "Look. Don’t take Clyde’s words to heart, alright? I already knew about that pervert doctor. And I’ve got a plan. So you just stay with your mum and sister. They baked a cake for you, didn’t they?"

Darcy went quiet for a mont.

"Micah... you..." Darcy began, but Micah cut him off.

"We’ll talk on Monday. Okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, Darcy. So stop beating yourself up over it."

Another pause. Micah could almost hear the breath Darcy held before asking. "Where are you right now?"

"I’m out on the outskirts," Micah replied, glancing out the window. "Having fun. You’d better do the sa. Oh, and listen, Clyde might’ve said sothing unpleasant, but he still promised to take care of that doctor. So don’t stay mad at him. He’s... he’s got a soft heart."

"Okay. Thank you..." Darcy mumbled.

"I’m hanging up. Get so rest. See you." Micah said, ending the call before Darcy could say more.

On the other end, Darcy stood alone in the hospital restroom, the light above flickering slightly. He pulled the phone away from his ear, stared at the screen for a long mont, then slowly lowered it to the counter.

He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto his face, the droplets slid down to his cheeks and neck. The sting of cold helped clear the fog in his head.

He had cald down sowhat after fleeing from the stares of the dical staff. They hadn’t said anything, but their gazes had lingered too long. The pressure had gotten to him. So he had stood up and walked away quickly. He slipped out the back toward a small patch of grass behind the hospital where a single walnut tree stood.

He sat there for a long ti, letting Clyde’s words echo in his mind. The man hadn’t been wrong. In the spur of the mont, Darcy had even considered going to Silas. He had thought about taking everything on himself, pushing Micah out of danger. But doing that... ant throwing away all the effort Micah had poured into this.

Darcy clutched the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white. His reflection in the mirror stared back, hollow-eyed and weary.

His mind buzzed with too many thoughts. Guilt, helplessness, self-loathing, longing, and yearning. He was lost.