From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 292: Not a Ramsy (part 1)

The mont Micah realised Clyde had t Asena first, the doubt tore him apart. What if Clyde preferred Asena over the arrogant young master Micah truly was? He was scared of the answer. But he had forced himself to ask.

"So you fell in love with Asena first?" Micah asked hesitantly.

"No, not at all." Clyde grinned. "I saw Asena a year ago at the cosplay event. But I never went out of my way to find her. The whole matchmaking thing? It was Dean and Jacklin stirring things up. Sure, I like the furry things, cute costus. But I wasn’t head over heels for her."

Then, Clyde took a slow breath. "Micah, it’s always been you. Just you. And it always will be."

Micah felt hot. His cheeks were burning, and it wasn’t from the heat of the chimney or fever. No, it was Clyde. It was always Clyde. He was too damn good. Too smooth. He knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and when to say it to make Micah falter.

Micah gritted his teeth. That wasn’t fair that soone like Clyde, who could infuriate him with just a look, could also make him sway with a few well-placed words and lowered voice.

He shouldn’t let Clyde off the hook this easily.

Micah glared at the screen of his phone. "So what now? You want to tell them that I kicked Asena’s ass and stole you away? With how Sister Jacklin was praising Asena, she would never let it go. And worse, she’ll hate !"

His voice cracked slightly at the end, frustrated.

Clyde didn’t answer imdiately. He leaned against the rough bark of a nearby tree, one leg bent and resting against the trunk behind him. His eyes were focused, thoughtful. "Micah...why do you cross-dress?"

Micah hesitated. He fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie. "I... " His throat dried. "I need to do sothing... and I didn’t want anything to be linked to the Ramsy family."

Clyde’s eyebrow twitched. "Like what? Stanning a star? That Leo McKay? You are telling the Ramsy family won’t let you even be a fan?" his voice rose slightly, edged with anger.

"Hah?!" Micah’s mouth opened in surprise. "Where does that even co from? No. I’m free to do anything I want. Am I not in a fashion design? No one is controlling ."

"Maybe they don’t care," Clyde cut in, a humourless chuckle followed.

Micah was taken aback. "Shut up! Don’t talk like you know everything!" he said through gritted teeth, chest rising and falling unevenly. "You have seen how much I like fashion! Why are you so quick to criticise my family?"

Clyde pressed his lips. He glanced away, then slowly looked back at Micah from the shadows. "Micah, I know..." he said, voice low. "You don’t have to force yourself to lie..."

Micah jumped to his feet, eyes wide. "You know? Know what?"

What did Clyde an?

His heart skipped a beat. Did he know the truth? That he was a fake? How?

Clyde didn’t say anything. His hand slid across the bark of the tree, fingers tightening around it as if grounding himself. He took a breath, then stopped. Words sat on his tongue but never made it out.

"That you are... you’re not..." he couldn’t finish it. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. That he was unwanted. That the Ramsy Family didn’t care about him.

Micah stumbled back a step, nearly hitting the nearby wall behind him. He caught himself with one hand, gripping the brick as if it would steady him. He clenched the phone tighter. "Huh? How? When?"

His voice had gone small. Thin. Disbelieving.

Micah couldn’t process it. How could Clyde know he wasn’t a Ramsy?!

"Who else knew? Was it that obvious?" he asked breathlessly. Panic was creeping into his voice. Each word was soaked with desperation.

Clyde gritted his teeth. "Everyone knows, Micah. Except you."

The words struck like a bolt of lightning.

Micah’s body jolted.

"What the hell? Everyone knows I was switched? That I am not a Ramsy?" Micah yelled. His voice echoed across the quiet range.

Startled horses in the distance let out distressed noises, hooves shifting anxiously in the stalls.

Clyde froze. His pupils dilated. What did Micah say?

"Answer !" Micah cried into the phone, voice shaking. He was dying from anxiety. He had bottled up for so long, tiptoeing around it, in fear of those four male leads attacking Darcy and himself. And they beco just like in the novel. Being used and discarded.

Now, Clyde was saying everyone knew?

Even his parents? Sisters? Why didn’t they tell him then? Why didn’t they contact Darcy?

Darcy! Oh God!

His breath ca in quick, shallow gasps.

Darcy...Did he know too?

Micah paled, dropping the phone on the ground. His knees buckled. His heart pounded, ready to burst out of his chest. Bile rose in his throat. A bitter taste crept up his throat.

He staggered sideways, one hand pressed over his mouth, then he gagged.

Clyde moved before he could think. He ended the call and stepped out from the shadows in a flash.

In two strides, he was there, catching Micah just as he started to sway. His fingers trembled.

"I’ve got you," he whispered, "I’ve got you. Just breathe..."

But Clyde wasn’t breathing either. His whole world had just tilted.

Clyde’s heart squeezed so hard in his chest that he thought it would stop beating.

His mind was too chaotic. Micah wasn’t a Ramsy? What did that an? How could sothing like this have happened?

Micah clung to Clyde, fists twisted in front of his coat. His breath was shallow, bordering on hyperventilation.

He didn’t care how Clyde suddenly appeared here. He just needed soone. To lean on. He felt his world was going to end. What if the future were already unfolding the sa way as the novel? What if Darcy got used? Got hurt? What if Micah ended up alone, cast aside, just like he had feared?

His vision blurred. His whole body trembled.

He wasn’t ready. Would he lose everyone? Everything?