From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 458: In This Life, You Thanked Me

Darcy looked at Micah sitting beside him in the taxi. The engine humd softly beneath them, the coastal city passing in fleeting flashes through the window. Micah sat with his hands clasped loosely in his lap, head bowed just slightly as though deep in thought. His silver hair still clung damply to his forehead from the seawater.

Throughout the treatnt in the hospital, Micah hadn’t called anyone, not his family, not Clyde. Hadn’t he just gone through a near-death experience? Shouldn’t he be bawling his eyes out, crying, calling for them?

It was as if Micah didn’t want anyone to know what had happened, as if this whole drowning incident was sothing he wanted buried beneath the waves.

Really different from his past life.

Back then, Micah had liked attention. He liked people fussing over him, acting like the spoiled brat he was. The smallest cut or the tiniest bruise, and he would call for the Ramsy family to co running. It had driven Darcy insane sotis. Yet now... this version of him was quiet. Guarded when sothing happened to him.

Darcy rested his chin on his palm and leaned against the window, the cool glass pressed to his cheek. His reflection stared back, tired, cold eyes, pale skin, and that constant tightness around his jaw. He didn’t like not understanding.

When they arrived at the villa, the air outside was still hot from the afternoon sun. Darcy paid the driver without looking, and when he turned, Micah tugged lightly at his shirt.

"Can we talk?" Micah mumbled.

Darcy shoved his hands into his pockets and studied him for a second. Oh, what now? He thought grimly. Did Micah want to warn him to stay quiet about the accident? Concealing his life-saving grace under so bullshit reasons? Like, not worrying his family? Hadn’t it been like this in his past life? His sacrifices, his goodness and redeeming quality were brushed off, as if it were a given that he should have done that in the first place anyway.

Or maybe... maybe he was going to say he didn’t rember anything? Just like his previous life? Pretend it never happened? As if Darcy had never dove in after him, never tried to save him?

Fine. He could listen... for a minute. Let’s see what kind of sche you’re running this ti.

Darcy walked toward the beach near the villa and sat under a big umbrella. Micah followed and dropped onto a lounger.

"Thank you..." The young man said after a long silence, his voice rough, barely a whisper.

Darcy humd in response as he watched the tide roll in and out. So he rembered this ti. That was sothing. This small change was better than the past. He had no need for thanks, but it was... less pathetic than being accused of attempted murder.

Micah rolled the plastic bottle cap between his fingers. "I really an it," he said softly. "I am grateful to you... And I owe you my life. If you haven’t found down there..." He swallowed hard. "I thought it was over. I really did."

Darcy’s gaze didn’t move from the waves. Micah’s voice felt distant... This was normal, wasn’t it? A normal response. Gratitude, relief, maybe a little awe. A reasonable thing to feel after nearly drowning.

Not like before. Not like that twisted misunderstanding that had destroyed everything.

Micah took a sip from the bottle and continued. "I’m already indebted to you, you know...after everything with the baby swapped and all. But now this... I swear, I’ll do anything you ask to repay you."

For a second, Darcy almost laughed in anger... what a ridiculous thing ca out of Micah’s mouth. He cut in, voice flat. "Even if I ask you to kill soone?"

Micah jerked, eyes widening. "Huh?"

Darcy watched his reaction. His lips curled into a faint, bitter smirk. "I thought so," he muttered, then stood up abruptly. "Don’t say what you don’t an."

"No." Micah tilted his head. "Are you being sarcastic? You? What happened to you? You’ve never been like this."

Darcy’s voice dropped, cold and clipped. "You don’t know at all."

He was done with this shit. For a second, he had actually thought, foolishly, that maybe in this life they could at least be civil. But no. Micah had to ruin it.

The young man wanted to repay him. Ha!

The debts Micah owed him, past or present, were too many to count. A few casual words could not even the score, couldn’t make Darcy forget. No. It couldn’t be erased. Not by a single apology. Not by thanks.

And the young man now had the audacity to think he knew him. Haha! How Laughable.

"That’s not true," Micah said quickly, rising to his feet. "I don’t know what you ant by killing, but you saved . I will do anything as long as it’s not illegal..."

Darcy’s jaw clenched. His breath ca shorter, anger riding in his chest. He didn’t even know where this indescribable anger ca from.

Hearing Micah insist on repaying him... He felt jealous. Toward himself. Jealous of the Darcy of this world. The one Micah thanked. The one Micah looked at with those wide, sincere eyes. The one who got his gratitude instead of suspicion.

Why could he get a thank you from this fake young master, but he from his past life had not deserved it?

He turned, eyes sharp. "I did what I did as a human being. If it were anyone else, I’d have done the sa. So don’t assu you are special or sothing. End of story." Darcy spat, already walking away.

Micah chased after him, the sand sticking to his flip-flops. "Wait a minute! Why are you acting like this? Is it all because I didn’t let you say what you wanted yesterday? This doesn’t make sense. If you are angry, fine, but at least be for the right reason! Be mad that I took your place in the Ramsy family! Not because I didn’t want to talk about your feelings..."

"Shut the fuck up," Darcy snapped, spinning around. His voice cracked with raw emotion.