From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 358: Top Scorer Trouble

Micah tugged the last button of his polo shirt into place, smoothed down the front, and took a quick glance in the mirror. It wasn’t sothing flashy. Just a neat, simple outfit that made him look put-together without trying too hard. Good enough. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaled, and hurried down the wide staircase again.

A faint rustle of paper reached his ears. In the living room, Jacob Ramsy sat with his legs crossed, half-hidden behind the morning newspaper. A steaming black coffee rested beside him. When he heard his son’s steps, Jacob lowered the paper and looked over the rim of his glasses. "Are you going out?"

"Yeah," Micah replied, crouching by the shoe rack and tugging on a pair of sneakers. He tied the laces in quick knots. "My friend’s mother is being discharged today. So, I am going to help."

Jacob’s brows rose slightly. He folded the newspaper with a soft chuckle. "Oh, the top scorer?"

The seemingly casual remark made two pairs of hands stilled at once. Willow, who had been typing on her laptop, froze mid-motion. Elina, who was arranging fruit on a platter, looked up sharply, her expression hard to read.

"Yeah. I’ll probably treat them to lunch, then co back." Micah said. "You are not going to forbid this, too, are you?" he glanced at his mother.

"This is not a prison," Elina replied, voice calm.

"That’s good to know. At least, I still have freedom during the day," Micah mumbled under his breath, dissatisfied.

"Are you really that close with them?" Willow asked, changing the subject, seeing the tension between mother and son about to escalate again.

"Yeah. I visited them a few tis at the hospital."

Mother and daughter were taken aback.

From the kitchen doorway, Aria erged, holding a glass of juice. She leaned casually against the fra, sipping as she joined in. "Do they still live in that neighbourhood?"

"Yeah. Their financial situation is bad. I want to help, but I am sure Darcy would never accept it. He is always working, but he won’t ever borrow money." Micah grumbled.

"That’s remarkable." Jacob nodded, expression soft.

"I know, right?" Micah’s voice lifted, pride flashing across his face for a mont.

"How about we sponsor him? Let him join the Ramsy Empire instead?" Jacob suggested, setting his paper aside completely.

Micah froze, feeling uncomfortable. If one day the truth ca out, Darcy might turn into a laughingstock. Being sponsored by his own family, his pride might not survive. Not to ntion his relationship with Ramsys might be ruined, too.

He forced a casual shrug. "Nah. He doesn’t like that kind of thing. There’ve been plenty of offers already, people trying to poach him." Micah refused.

"But it’s a pity. His talent is being buried under part-ti jobs." Jacob said, frowning. "At least tell him. Let him decide."

Micah grabbed his sunglasses and slid them on. "Okay. I’ll try to talk to him," he yielded in the end. "I’m off."

He waved a hand and stepped out of Ramsy Mansion. He chose one of the cars he felt most comfortable driving and drove to the hospital. Darcy had not told him about the discharge day. Typical. Whenever sothing might trouble Micah, Darcy kept his mouth shut, always trying to shoulder everything alone. It made Micah grit his teeth.

But Micah wasn’t clueless. Over the past weeks, he had built a quiet rapport with one of the nurses. He had insisted that if money troubles ever cropped up, she should inform him right away.

Today, the discharge seed to be going smoothly; probably, AHPRA had fully covered the expenses. That was a relief.

Pulling into the hospital’s parking lot, Micah called Darcy’s number.

"Hey, where are you?" Micah asked as he stepped out, adjusting his sunglasses.

"Hospital, why?" Darcy replied.

"I an where in the hospital? I am at the entrance."

There was a pause. "Why..." then a sigh, "I am in the lobby, finishing the forms."

Micah smiled faintly and headed in. His long strides carried him through the glass doors, but the smile froze on his lips the instant he saw the scene inside.

Darcy wasn’t alone.

Standing beside him were two older n, both carrying a presence that demanded respect. One of them made Micah’s heart skip. Did he recognise Darcy? Did he find out sothing? Did Grandma tell him? A million questions flooded his mind.

"Grandpa? What are you doing here?" Micah said, voice hoarse, and then recognised the other figure. "Mr. Hakimi."

Mr Hakimi’s lined face broke into a warm smile. "Young man, you’ve grown up so quickly."

Albert Ramsy turned at the sound of his grandson’s voice. His sharp eyes, still full of vigour despite age, scanned Micah. "Oh, I thought you wouldn’t co."

Micah scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. He understood what he ant. Their commotion, of course, had reached his grandfather’s ears.

"No, it was just a miscommunication." Micah laughed awkwardly.

"Sure it was." Albert Ramsy said dryly, then he looked at Darcy. Sothing about the boy tugged at his mory, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. "Well, I hope your mother recovers quickly."

Darcy offered a polite smile and bowed to the two old n. "I appreciate your concern. Thank you for taking care of my mum."

Mr Hakimi stepped forward, resting a reassuring hand on Darcy’s shoulder. "Don’t ntion it. It was our lack of managent that led to this trouble. Take care of yourself, young man."

Then he glanced at Micah, his eyes narrowing with grandfatherly sternness. "And you, stay out of trouble. Spare a thought for your poor old grandfather."

Micah straightened instinctively and nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir."

Albert Ramsy tapped his cane on the floor lightly. "Who are you calling old? I am in far better shape than you."

Mr Hakimi let out a hearty chuckle. "Yes. Yes. Let’s go. You promised to treat to that famous sake you brought from your last trip."

"Sure, sure. You never let forget, stingy old man."

Side by side, the two elders walked off, their conversation fading down the hall.

Darcy released a quiet breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. He gathered the stack of discharge forms and turned to Micah. "You don’t need to co."

"That’s what friends do. Co on. They are probably waiting for us." Micah said, draping an arm over Darcy’s shoulder as they walked toward the elevator. His nerves stayed tense, uneasy about his abrupt visit, even though he didn’t catch anything unusual in Albert Ramsy’s expression and deanour.

anwhile, Darcy clenched the forms, suppressing his joy. The way Micah had left him yesterday made him really shaken. But today, without being asked, despite his own family troubles, Micah ca running to him. It was enough proof he still had a place in Micah’s life... or perhaps in his heart too.