From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 687: Young Patriarch in Training

Micah didn’t even want to glance at his phone.

It felt heavy in his hand, like it was about to explode the second the screen lit up. He could already imagine it, Clyde’s na flashing again and again, ssage notifications stacking up one after another, missed calls piling up in red. Furious texts. Cold voice ssages. That low, controlled tone Clyde used when he was trying very hard not to lose his temper.

Micah grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut for a second.

In his mind, he cursed Edmund from head to toe, from ancestors to descendants. Generation after generation of Edmund. If there were ten of him in the family tree, Micah would strangle all ten.

Talk about a pig teammate.

His uncle was exactly that, a walking disaster. On one hand, Edmund claid he wanted to pursue Jacklin properly. On the other hand, he had just angered her uncle to the point of explosion. Who would do that? Who would sabotage himself so thoroughly?

Micah dragged a hand down his face. He wanted to cry from frustration, but had no tears.

Slowly, he turned his head and shot a resentful glare at his other two uncles.

Edgar and Ernest imdiately stiffened.

Both of them awkwardly scratched their heads, glanced at the ground, then at the sky, then at literally anywhere but Micah. Their feet inched backward step by step. It was obvious they were ready to bolt the second he opened his mouth.

They knew him too well. No one wanted to stand directly in his line of sight when his temper was simring like this. His glare alone could burn a hole through a person.

Darcy, on the other hand, stood calmly beside him, sipping his milk chocolate as if nothing was wrong. The warm cup fogged lightly in the cold air, and he took small, steady sips.

After learning Edmund had ssed everything up, Darcy was smart enough to understand sothing important. Micah’s anger would now be focused entirely on that idiot uncle.

Not on him. Even so, Darcy wasn’t stupid enough to step on the lion’s tail.

Without a word, he casually walked away toward Ida and the group of chatting neighbours. He slipped into the conversation smoothly, offering polite smiles and gentle responses. It was almost heroic, sacrificing himself to endure the matchmaking session just to avoid becoming Micah’s emotional punching bag.

When Micah finally forced himself to calm down and look around again...

He was alone. Darcy had blended into the crowd. Edgar and Ernest had completely disappeared.

Cowards.

Micah let out a long, exaggerated sigh and tilted his head back.

The night sky stretched above him, deep and dark, scattered with bright stars. They glittered sharply in the winter air, so clear and close that for a mont it created the illusion that if he simply reached up, he could brush his fingers against them.

He stared at them for a while. Then he hardened his expression. There was no escaping this. He unlocked his phone and called Clyde.

When the call finally connected, Micah forced brightness into his voice. "Happy New Year!"

There was a faint rustling sound on the other end. Maybe movent. Maybe soone was being dismissed from the room.

Then silence. Micah could hear Clyde’s breathing. Slow. Controlled.

"Micah..." Clyde said at last. His voice was low, tight, clearly full of restrained anger.

Micah pressed the phone closer to his ear. "Hmm?" he humd lightly, as if he had no idea what was wrong.

A pause.

"Did you do it on purpose?" Clyde asked.

Each word ca out separately. Clearly. Carefully.

Micah could almost picture his expression: eyes narrowed, jaw tight.

"No," Micah replied imdiately. "Honest mistake."

Another silence.

"Should I co there," Clyde asked, "or will you return?"

Micah blinked innocently. "Weren’t you supposed to co here? I’ll be waiting for you."

He made his tone sound casual. As if nothing unusual had happened. As if Clyde wasn’t currently restraining himself from exploding.

On the other end, Clyde took a deep breath. Micah could hear it clearly through the speaker.

"Alright," Clyde said finally. "I’ll probably arrive tomorrow evening."

"Bring your nephews and niece too," Micah added quickly.

There was the faintest pause. "Fine," Clyde replied. "Be careful."

The line went dead.

Micah lowered the phone slowly.

He turned his head and looked toward Darcy. Darcy was now standing beside Ida, chatting politely with aunts and a few family friends. He smiled, nodded, and responded appropriately. From the outside, he looked completely at ease. Then he fished out his phone from his pocket, clearly answering a call.

Micah stared at him for a second, his expression changing. His eyes dimd slightly. The playful light faded.

He lifted a hand and adjusted his scarf, wrapping it tighter around his neck as the cold wind brushed past. Without saying anything to anyone, he walked toward the van parked near the edge of the yard.

When he reached it, he tugged at the handle. It was locked. He frowned and glanced around. No one nearby. No spare key in sight. No easy way back into the house from this side.

With a quiet huff, he leaned his back against the van and looked ahead.

The frozen lake stretched out before him, pale under the moonlight. The surface reflected the stars faintly, making it look like the sky had fallen onto the ground.

"Could we skate on it?" he muttered absentmindedly.

"That would be suicide." A voice answered from beside him. "The spring weather has already started to thaw the ice."

Micah tilted his head slowly toward the source of the voice.

Then he barked out a short laugh. "You’ve got so nerve to show your face in front of ."

Edmund stood there with that shaless grin on his face.

"You broke your promise," Edmund said cheerfully. "And this is what you get, my dear nephew."

Micah straightened and folded his arms. "I didn’t break it." He lifted his chin slightly. "I thought of a better way. I invited her to co here instead." His lips curved smugly. "Am I not aweso or what?"

For a split second, Edmund stared at him.

Then... "Damn, you sick brat!" Edmund jumped forward and wrapped his arms around Micah in excitent, nearly lifting him off the ground. "You should’ve told sooner!"

Micah rolled his eyes but didn’t push him away imdiately.

His own eyes flashed with mischief. He would get back at this idiot sooner or later.

Technically speaking, Micah would be the elder of the Du Pont family soon. When Edmund finally realised that pursuing Jacklin would require approval from him too... that expression would be priceless.

Of course, his soon-to-be niece probably wouldn’t even spare Edmund a glance. But that didn’t matter. Micah smiled faintly to himself. He would absolutely have his fun toying with Edmund and getting even for this.