From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 297: Very Smooth Indeed

Clyde’s body moved before his mouth did. He reached forward, his large, steady hand closing firmly around Micah’s wrist. The grip wasn’t harsh, just enough to stop him from storming away.

anwhile, the other three n practically jumped in place.

"No..."

"Wait!"

"It’s not like that!"

Their voices overlapped in a rush of panic, the kind of scramble you only heard when soone knew they had ssed up badly.

Clyde’s fingers tightened slightly, as if afraid Micah would slip away if he loosened them even a fraction. His voice was low, steady, almost coaxing. "Micah."

Micah turned his head slowly, his expression sharp and unreadable. "What? You want to say I’m wrong? I clearly heard my na and their snickering! Very smooth indeed... after everything earlier, you actually gathered them here for what? Mocking ?"

The muscle in Clyde’s jaw shifted as he bit down on his first instinct to argue. His voice ca low, steady, but each word carried the weight of sothing barely contained. "No. Not like that. I have nothing to do with them."

"Yeah," Lin Heye jumped in quickly. "We were here before he ca down. We were just... thirsty."

Dylon nodded, leaning forward slightly. "Yeah. And we were laughing at him, not you. We were saying you deserve so much better than him."

His words made the atmosphere freeze.

Micah narrowed his eyes. "What’s that supposed to an?"

Before anyone could respond, a voice called from upstairs.

"What’s with all the noise?"

Heads tilted upward in unison. At the railing stood Jacklin, Emile, Dean, Soha, and Georgina, all in varying degrees of sleepiness. So rubbed their eyes, others leaned lazily against the banister, clearly not eager to climb down but too curious to ignore the commotion.

The corner of Micah’s mouth lifted, not in amusent, but in sothing darker. He let out a low, irritated murmur. "Great. More audience."

He yanked his hand free. This ti, Clyde’s grip loosened just enough for him to break away.

"Micah..." Clyde started.

But Micah didn’t look back. He strode toward the stairs, climbing past the group without eting a single gaze. His footsteps carried him straight to the suite. The final slam of the door echoed loudly in the condo.

Everyone looked at each other, and then slowly all eyes shifted to Clyde.

Clyde’s shoulders slumped. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a word. He shot his friends and family a glare sharp enough to slice through the tension, then turned his back on them entirely, striding toward the deck. His posture was rigid, his movents controlled in a way you only saw when soone was holding back more than they wanted to say.

Fresh air. He needed it. And definitely distance from those idiots.

Lin Heye exhaled sharply, turning on Dylon with a swift slap to the back of his head. "Hamrhead! What was that? Didn’t I tell you not to let anything slip in front of Micah?"

Dylon yelped, rubbing the back of his head guiltily. "Ow! I didn’t an..."

Jacklin began descending the stairs, curiosity written all over her face. "What happened?"

"Why was Uncle holding Micah’s hand?" Dean chid in, head tilted in genuine confusion.

"And why was Micah angry?" Emile asked.

"You told us to leave earlier and not wait for them. Did they just get back now?" Georgina said slowly, rubbing her eyes.

"No. They returned a while ago. And Micah is angry because we..." Lin Heye shot Dylon a pointed look. "...screwed up."

His gaze drifted toward the deck. Clyde was standing there motionless, hands resting loosely at his sides as he stared into the distance. Lin Heye’s mouth pressed into a thin line. "Don’t ask questions. When the ti is right, your uncle will tell you."

Lin Heye gave Mason a firm pat on the back. "Let’s go. We need to clean our ss."

Mason nodded wordlessly.

Lin Heye turned to the Du Pont Juniors. "Go back to sleep."

Jacklin, Emile, Dean, Soha and Georgina nodded and reluctantly returned to their rooms.

anwhile, Lin Heye, Dylon and Mason walked toward the suite.

Lin Heye took a deep breath before knocking.

There was no sound. He knocked again.

"Go away," Micah’s voice ca.

"It’s ... Micah." Lin Heye said carefully, leaning closer to the door.

After a pause, the door opened just enough for Micah to lean against the fra. His eyes flicked between the three of them, his expression guarded. "What is it?"

"I think you misunderstood sothing..." Dylon began, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh?" Micah tilted his head.

"Clyde didn’t tell us anything," Lin Heye explained quickly. "We just guessed from how he’s been acting. Then we gave him advice for your birthday. Nothing else."

"We were downstairs because we heard you two arguing. We didn’t want to pry." Dylon said.

"Clyde is innocent," Mason added.

Micah studied them in silence, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read the truth in their faces. From their words, he could understand partially what had happened. "Alright. Thank you for clearing that up. So you all know what exactly?"

"That Clyde is into you," Lin Heye said without hesitation. "And we one hundred per cent support him."

Micah’s lips twitched into sothing between disbelief and irritation. "Nothing else?"

"No."

"Like what?" Mason asked, brow furrowing.

"That’s okay. I got it." Micah said finally. His tone softened only slightly as he added. "Good night."

Then he closed the door with a muted click.

Leaning his back against it, Micah let out a slow breath. He felt complicated. Clyde’s friends knew about them... and they were fine with it. No hesitation, no hint of disgust or judgnt. Just... acceptance. He could see in their eyes that they were sincere with no mocking undertones.

So... soone like him being with Clyde, their friend, was not strange? Acceptable even?

Micah’s gaze drifted toward the window, where he had been standing before they knocked. Clyde was still on the deck, his broad back outlined against the dim night. There was sothing in that posture, a stillness, that looked...lonely.

He had been so sure that people, especially Clyde’s friends and family, would object. He had been bracing himself for it from the mont he realised his feelings.

Hell, he was certain his own family would. That was why he didn’t want anyone to know. They would say he was too young, too immature to be in a relationship with a man like Clyde.

The whispers would be worse, claims that he was only using Clyde’s influence to strengthen his foothold in the Ramsy family. That Clyde would never actually like a brat like him, that he must have sched his way in.

And there would be a bunch of hypocrites trying to get close, only to use him to reach Clyde, the mysterious Du Pont patriarch.

Micah’s hands curled loosely into fists at his sides. In most people’s eyes, he was nothing more than a troublemaker. A spoiled brat who stirred chaos without effort. Not soone worthy of standing beside Clyde.

Hadn’t Dylon said sothing similar to him at the Royal Dragon Pavilion?

What had made them change their minds now?