From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 621: What? SugerPlumFairy?

A few minutes earlier:

The corner of the hall where Leo stood was relatively quiet compared to the centre of the banquet. The music drifted over in soft waves, muffled by layers of conversation and laughter, and the crystal lights above reflected faintly on polished marble floors. Leo held a glass he hadn’t touched for a while, his fingers resting loosely around the stem as he spoke with Jacklin’s cousin, Emile.

Emile stood straight but not stiff, his posture relaxed in a way that suggested good upbringing without arrogance. When he spoke, he leaned forward slightly, as if genuinely afraid of missing sothing Leo said. His eyes were bright, curious, and unguarded, the kind Leo had learned to recognise after years in the industry, soone who hadn’t yet been touched by the ugliness of industry affairs.

Leo found himself pleasantly surprised. Even though Emile was from the Du Pont family, he showed no hint of superiority. There was no subtle asuring glance, no careless bragging about connections or influence. He listened, nodded, and reacted honestly. Leo felt an unexpected sense of ease talking to him, sothing he rarely experienced at events like this.

If only things had gone this way earlier in his career, Leo thought ruefully. He had left everything, negotiations, contracts, and social interactions, in the hands of that trash manager. If he had been more involved, if he had spoken more with people like Jacklin instead of trusting the wrong person, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up cornered and helpless back then. The regret passed quickly, but it left a bitter aftertaste.

Emile hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck before speaking again. "There is sothing I’ve been aning to say," he said, his voice careful. "But I was worried to co off as presumptuous...." He scratched his cheek awkwardly.

Leo smiled, the professional kind he’d perfected over the years, but this ti it ca easily. "What’s it? Now you’ve got curious," he said. He tilted his head slightly, letting out a soft laugh. "I’m not that scary, am I?"

"Oh, no, of course not!" Emile shook his head, looking a little panicked.

"So... feel free to say it." Leo gestured with his hand as if giving a go-ahead sign.

"Well... It’s about the new company you’ve joined..."

"Yeah?" Leo asked, frowning. "You an Paniz Entertainnt? What about it?"

Emile’s lips parted. "Right. That one... with kind of a unique na." He chuckled, then suddenly paused, his brows knitting together.

Leo straightened, frowning. "Is sothing wrong? Is it about the na? I heard the na ans sothing like sugar or candy. Nothing unorthodox."

Emile let out a low, embarrassed sound and brought his hand up to cover his face. "Ah... this is really awkward," he muttered. He peeked at Leo again, then sighed. "I recently signed with an agency too." He tugged on his sleeve slowly. "It’s the sa one."

Leo’s expression cracked for a second. What did he hear? That this young man also from his company?

"The sa...?" he echoed.

Emile lowered his gaze, shoulders drawing in a little as if bracing himself. "Sorry for the delay," he said quietly, then gave a small, formal bow. "This junior pays his respects to the senior."

Leo’s lips twitched, amusent and disbelief mixing together. Did Micah know Emile? His gaze shifted to Willow Ramsy. Perhaps they were family friends?

So was Micah really behind the Paniz entertainnt?

Before he could ask more questions, before he could press Emile for details, sothing in the air shifted.

Emile suddenly went still.

The boy’s cheerful expression vanished as if wiped clean. His eyes widened, pupils dilating. He looked like he’d just seen sothing unbelievable.

Leo followed his line of sight, turning slowly.

Through the crowd, cutting a clear path as people unconsciously stepped aside, a man walked toward them. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his presence sharp enough to command attention without a word. Beside him walked a girl.

Leo’s eyes landed on the girl. No, correction. On silver-white hair that caught the light like frost under the chandeliers.

His breath hitched.

Every ti he saw that colour, sothing warm stirred deep in his chest, fluttering unpredictably. Micah. That hair belonged to Micah. It was impossible for Leo not to think of him.

His gaze sharpened without him realising it. The girl was smiling, her expression open and relaxed, eyes soft as she listened to sothing the man beside her said. But the mont her gaze shifted and landed on Leo, that smile changed. Just a little. Barely noticeable to anyone else. The corners of her lips stiffened, her eyes flickering with sothing unreadable.

The man beside her noticed too.

His eyes slid toward Leo, cold and assessing. There was no smile there, no attempt at politeness. Just a clear, unmistakable warning.

Leo swallowed. He had never seen either of them before, but their presence was too captivating. They weren’t people you could easily dismiss. They carried authority as if it were second nature.

Then Leo heard the Du Ponts greet the man.

"Uncle."

It wasn’t hard to guess who he was at that mont, but what puzzled him wasn’t the identity, it was the tension. Sothing was off. The atmosphere felt tight, like a string pulled too far.

Leo stayed where he was, pretending to sip his drink as he listened discreetly. His eyes drifted back to the silver-haired girl. When he noticed Micah’s sister speaking with the blond man, his curiosity spiked. His attention sharpened even further when he caught a familiar na drifting through their conversation.

Micah.

Leo glanced between them. Their words were polite, their manners impeccable, but years in the entertainnt industry had taught Leo how to read between smiles. Beneath the surface, there was hostility. Willow clearly disliked this man, and the man seed intent on circling every topic back to Micah.

Was he bragging that he was close to Micah?

Even others approached, ntioning Micah casually, as if testing the waters. The blond man responded calmly, but his eyes never wandered off the girl beside him. Leo felt it was too odd.

Then Jacklin spoke again, this ti to the silver-white girl, her voice clear. She ntioned a WeChat account.

The mont Leo heard the na, the world seed to mute.

SugerPlumFairy.

The sound echoed in his head, drowning out the music, the chatter, everything. His fingers tightened around the glass until his knuckles whitened.

He would never forget that na.

His mind dragged him back to that hotel room. The dim light. The sll of alcohol and cologne. Hurt’s hands. The panic clawing at his chest. How Micah rescued him from that hotel room. He had been conscious then, weak, dizzy, but awake.

He had heard everything. Micah had thought he was out cold.

Leo rembered lying on the bed, barely able to move, while Micah sat on the floor with his back pressed against the bed fra. He rembered the way Micah spoke to himself, muttering complaints, grumbling loudly, half nervous and half smug.

He rembered Micah boasting in a low voice, saying sothing about how Nobel SugerPlumFairy had saved the day.

Leo hadn’t understood it back then. The na had sounded ridiculous, aningless. But Micah repeated it, almost fondly, as if it were important.

Now, standing here, hearing it again, Leo’s eyes locked onto the girl nad Asena.

His heartbeat sped up. He cut into the conversation abruptly, asking a question that barely disguised his urgency. Yes. He knew her. The silver-haired girl was his fan. He had t her before. That shy, blunt girl who had once blurted out, "Are you stupid? How can you sign a twenty-year contract with Twilight Entertainnt?"

At the ti, he’d laughed it off.

Now, Leo realised sothing terrifying.

The height. The build. The slope of the shoulders beneath the dress. Leo had stared at Micah’s pictures for who knew how long. Every day. Posters on his wall, photos saved on his phone. He knew Micah’s silhouette better than his own reflection.

If Micah really cross-dressed...

So many things suddenly made sense.

Why had Micah been in that hotel? How he’d known exactly where to find Leo. Why had he acted both shy and fearless at the sa ti? If Micah were his fan, if he had seen Leo and Hurt together before, he might have noticed sothing was wrong.

Still, doubt crept in. Leo clenched his jaw. He couldn’t be sure. It sounded ridiculous. Even far-fetched. Why would Micah go that far? Why would he cross-dress at all?

Micah wanted to enter the entertainnt industry. It ant his family was on board with it, right? So there was no need for Micah to cross-dress just to stan him in fear of his reputation or family...

Leo wanted to talk to the girl again, wanted to ask more, wanted to confirm what his instincts were screaming at him.

But before he could take a step closer, the infuriating blond man reached out and gently but firmly guided her away. His hand rested protectively on her back, his body angling slightly to block Leo’s line of sight.

Leo’s frustration flared sharply.

He was certain now. If he could just speak with her, no, with Micah, for a few more minutes, he could confirm everything.

But he couldn’t do anything reckless. He couldn’t grab her arm and say, You’re cross-dressing.

So he stood there, frozen in place, watching as the truth slipped just out of reach, his chest tight with a mixture of disbelief, urgency, and sothing dangerously close to hope.