From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 531: Between Love, Guilt, and the Shadow of the Past

Darcy took several deep breaths, calming himself. It wasn’t the ti to panic or fall apart. He pressed a palm against his forehead and exhaled slowly, letting his thoughts settle down.

Clyde had every reason to be wary of him. For God’s sake, it was Darcy who had lured Micah and Clyde to that place, thinking he could feel better by tornting the fake young master. In the end, both he and Clyde had been killed by an enemy in the dark. He had no idea what had happened to Micah afterwards.

But he could guess. With both him and Clyde out of the picture, and Ramsy’s family’s demise, Micah would have been left alone, cornered and vulnerable, with no one to protect him. Easy prey for those four n waiting to be slaughtered.

The thought made Darcy’s jaw tighten until it hurt.

Maybe they had even been in on it. Maybe those four were also accomplices with the culprit who pulled strings behind the scenes.

Darcy’s expression hardened. The past was done, but this ti, he wouldn’t repeat the sa mistake.

First things first, he should talk to Clyde. They needed to clear up this ss before the misunderstanding between them poisoned everything.

He rubbed his temples, his shoulders tense.

If not for the enemy lurking in the dark, Darcy would have preferred to work alone, just as he always did. But right now, he needed Clyde; he needed soone with authority and reach to help him dig out whoever was behind this before it was too late.

This wasn’t just about Micah anymore. Darcy flexed his fingers, clenching them into fists. His own life was in jeopardy. The past had already cost too much; he would not let it happen again.

His gaze wandered toward the door. It was better to catch him now when Micah was still around. If he let the misunderstanding remain, Clyde might really block him.

Darcy stood up and walked to the door, opening it. The corridor was silent. He stepped out and went down the hallway, looking for any sign of Clyde or Micah.

He wasn’t sure what he would say when he found them. But he had to start sowhere.

******

anwhile, Micah stood in front of a vending machine, arms folded, a furrow between his brows. The machine humd softly, its bright display reflecting off his eyes as he frowned at the endless rows of colourful bottles.

When Clyde approached, Micah sighed in relief. "Good, you’re here. Co and help ," he said, gesturing with his hand at the machine.

Clyde stepped beside him, his tall fra casting a faint shadow over the bright panel. "What’s the problem? Did it get stuck?" he asked lightly, glancing at Micah before giving the machine a thorough look.

Micah shook his head. "Nah, it’s just... There are too many options, and I don’t know what is better for Darcy right now," he said, tapping on his chin thoughtfully.

Clyde’s lips twitched. It wasn’t like Darcy really had a brain problem that needed Micah to think this hard about what to buy. He had just unlocked his past mories. But he couldn’t tell Micah his assumption. And honestly, Clyde would not belittle Micah’s genuine worries.

"This one," Clyde said after a pause, pointing to a plain bottle near the bottom row. "No caffeine, no theophylline. And definitely no high sugar or salt to overstimulate his brain."

Micah looked at him, expression twisted for a mont. He crossed his arms and stared at Clyde, leaning his weight onto one leg. "You made co out here just for that? You just wanted to kick out of the room, didn’t you? Plain water? Are you kidding ? It was a water dispenser in his room."

Clyde leaned on the wall, not bothered that he had been caught. "Yeah," he said simply.

"Why?" Micah asked, jaw tightening. "What was so important that you couldn’t say it in front of ? You didn’t threaten him again, did you? Like last ti?" His eyes darkened with anger. "No... he is the patient here. Why would you stress him out more?"

Micah’s expression turned furious. "I am going back." He turned toward the room.

Clyde’s hand shot out before he could take another step. His fingers wrapped around Micah’s wrist firmly to stop him. "Micah..." he said, voice low.

There was sothing in his voice that made Micah’s heart shake.

He halted and turned halfway, looking over his shoulder. "What?"

"I have my reasons," Clyde said quietly. "But you have to trust on this. I am doing it for you, Micah. I just want to protect you."

Micah let out a shaky breath, shoulders stiff. "I hated it when you did this," he said, his voice trembling slightly despite his effort to sound calm. "When you go ahead and make decisions without ... especially when it is about . This is not the first ti. You think of as a child? Or so reckless, unreasonable fool? Why can’t you just discuss things with before doing sothing like that?"

Clyde tugged at his arm. "I’m sorry. I didn’t an to make you feel that way. That wasn’t my intention. But you have seen it too. Darcy has changed. Haven’t you noticed? I am worried he will harm you one day..."

Micah looked ahead, expression unreadable. "That’s fine. Even if he stabbed in the back, I wouldn’t have any complaint. I owe him too much already... he has every right to demand anything he wants from ."

Clyde flinched at the words. "Then what about ?" he asked. "Are you tossing aside? Do my feelings an nothing to you? Don’t they have any value in your heart? Am I just supposed to stand by and watch you destroy yourself for him?"

Micah’s lips parted, but he couldn’t find an answer right away. His gaze dropped to the floor. "You know that’s not it..." His voice cracked slightly. "I’ve hesitated until now because of this... I can’t fully put you first. I’m sorry... maybe this," he stopped himself, swallowing hard. "Maybe it was a mistake to..."

Before he could finish, Clyde pulled him to his embrace. "Don’t even think about it," he murmured, putting his head into the crook of Micah’s neck from behind. "I’ll do anything you say... but please never say you’ll leave ..."

Micah froze, his heartbeat pounding painfully in his chest. He could feel the tremor in Clyde’s voice and body. He was afraid. Afraid of losing him.

Micah knew better than anyone that he could not survive without Clyde either. He was just angry that Clyde had done sothing again without telling him. In the spur of the mont, he had spouted nonsense.

He lowered his head and humd in response. A lump pressed in his throat, making his voice stuck. His body, still caught in Clyde’s grip, slowly relaxed.