From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 759: Saved His Life, Ruined His Brain

After being formally discharged from the hospital, Ilyas found himself running into another problem, one far harder than recovering physically. He was going to Micah’s place where Darcy lived one floor below.

During this morning in the hospital, he had managed to maintain a certain level of ease and composure whenever Aria and Dean were present beside him. Aria’s lively and warm personality had a naturally soothing effect, while Dean’s presence, though sowhat sharp and occasionally intimidating, kept him from overthinking.

However, everything changed the mont Darcy reappeared.

Darcy had returned with what could only be described as a thoughtful and practical gesture, going out of his way to replace Ilyas’s broken phone without being asked.

It was not an overly grand action, nor was it delivered with any particular flourish, yet it carried a weight that unsettled Ilyas more than anything else.

Because it forced him to face sothing he had been deliberately avoiding. He did not know how to act around Darcy.

The young man standing not far from him had saved his life. Not only that, he had cared for him during his most vulnerable state, tending to him in ways that could only be described as deeply personal, almost intimate. Darcy had acted without hesitation, without complaint, and without ever demanding anything in return.

And yet, despite all of that, Ilyas could not forget the way he himself had treated Darcy in the past. It was cold, dismissive, and cruel, even.

The contrast between those past actions and Darcy’s current behaviour made it nearly impossible for Ilyas to gather the courage to speak. Gratitude sat heavily on his tongue, yet every attempt to express it was swallowed by an overwhelming sense of sha.

How was he supposed to thank soone he had wronged so deeply? How was he supposed to et his gaze without feeling exposed? He had made the man jerk him off! For fuck’s sake! He wished he could turn the ti back and sew his own lips before uttering those words in the bathroom.

And so, he had hesitated. Again and again, he had pushed the mont aside, convincing himself that there would be a better opportunity, a more appropriate ti, a situation where the words would co more naturally.

But now, as they walked slowly toward the hospital exit, that excuse was beginning to lose its strength.

His fingers fidgeted restlessly with the fabric of his shirt, twisting it slightly as though grounding himself in sothing tangible. His teeth pressed lightly against his lower lip, a small but telling gesture that betrayed his inner turmoil.

Beside him, Aria walked with her usual relaxed and graceful deanour, while Dean moved a few steps ahead, currently engaged in conversation with one of the bodyguards stationed nearby. Darcy followed behind them at a asured pace, neither too close nor too distant, his presence steady yet sohow overwhelming.

After a brief mont of silence, Aria turned her head slightly, her attention shifting toward Ilyas. "You’re not seriously planning to stay at our place?" she asked, her tone carrying a gentle hint of disbelief. "Wouldn’t it be boring, staying alone in that small apartnt? At least at our place, you would have a garden to walk in, or a pool where you could swim."

Her words were light, almost playful, yet there was a sincerity beneath them that made it difficult to dismiss.

Ilyas responded with a soft smile, one that appeared naturally despite how rarely he allowed himself such expressions. There was sothing about Aria’s presence that lowered his guard without effort, making him feel, if only slightly, at ease.

"Sister Aria," he began, his voice calm but gentle, "thank you for the offer. Truly. But I have always been more of a shut-in than an outgoing person. I feel more comfortable when I am alone."

Aria let out a soft sigh, her expression shifting into one of exaggerated disappointnt. "What a pity," she murmured. "Ever since Micah left ho, the place has beco far too quiet."

"No way. You actually miss Micah?" Darcy’s voice cut in from behind them, laced with unmistakable disbelief.

Aria simply shrugged, her expression unbothered. "I know it sounds unbelievable, but I did lose my main source of entertainnt."

Darcy let out a small sound of understanding, nodding as though the explanation made perfect sense. "Ah, I see what you an."

Hearing their exchange, Ilyas could not help but let out a quiet chuckle.

The sound had barely left his lips when Aria suddenly reached out and pinched his cheek lightly. "You should laugh more often," she said with a bright smile. "You look absolutely adorable when you do."

At that exact mont, a sharp and unmistakable gaze landed on him from the front. Dean. The intensity of that glare was impossible to ignore.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he observed the interaction, his attention flicking between Ilyas and Aria with growing dissatisfaction. The way Ilyas addressed her, the ease with which Aria touched him, and the soft smile that lingered on his face, all of it triggered an imdiate and irrational sense of alarm within Dean.

An unspoken thought rang loudly in his mind. This was unacceptable. The man behind him was undeniably handso, composed, and dangerously charming when he chose to be. The way Aria responded so naturally to him only made the situation worse.

A silent alarm bell began to ring louder and louder in Dean’s mind. He needed to get Aria away. Imdiately. Before sothing unexpected happened. Before this man sohow managed to win her over completely.

The re thought of Ilyas whisking Aria away right in front of him was enough to make his expression darken further.

What Dean did not realise, however, was that Ilyas had already unknowingly chard Aria enough for her to extend another invitation. "Sweetie, are you sure you won’t co?" Aria asked.

Ilyas shook his head in response.

Of course, Ilyas had caught that unmistakable glare, but he could only sigh inwardly. This was becoming increasingly absurd.

The way Dean looked at him, one would think he had committed so unforgivable offence, or worse, stolen sothing that rightfully belonged to him like his wife or sothing.

Was this not Clyde Du Pont’s nephew? Had he not been sent here to watch over him?

Ilyas had initially assud that Dean’s role was to ensure that he did not attract unwanted attention, especially from reporters, or do anything that might reflect poorly on Micah.

But now... Now he was no longer certain. The tension felt oddly misplaced.

As these thoughts drifted through his mind, Ilyas absentmindedly lifted a hand to rub his cheek, which still felt warm from Aria’s playful gesture. Distracted and unfocused, he failed to notice the path ahead.

Before he could react, his body was already moving straight toward a tray cart being pushed into the hallway.

Just as he was about to collide with it, a firm grip caught the back of his collar and pulled him backward.

"Watch out," Darcy’s voice ca, calm but firm.

Ilyas stumbled slightly before regaining his balance, imdiately turning toward the hospital staff with a hurried apology. His hand moved to the back of his neck as he rubbed it awkwardly, unable to bring himself to et Darcy’s gaze.

What was wrong with him? Why was he behaving like this? Clumsy. Distracted. Completely unlike himself. Did he have any dignity left in front of Darcy?

The embarrassnt and self-consciousness tightened around him like a vice.

Darcy’s gaze lingered briefly on the flushed skin at the back of Ilyas’s neck, as well as the faint redness tinting his ears.

Then, without warning, he spoke again. "Do you want to hold your hands?"

For a mont, ti seed to stop. Ilyas froze entirely, his mind going blank as the aning of those words sank in.

Then, in an instant, his face turned a vivid shade of red, resembling a freshly boiled shrimp.

Aria let out a soft giggle and lightly patted Darcy’s arm. "Don’t tease him," she said, her tone amused. Then she turned back to Ilyas with a reassuring smile. "Don’t take it to heart. He’s always bickering with Micah, so he did the sa to you without even realising it. And really... It’s so hilarious to see Micah puff up like a little rooster when Darcy gets the better of him. It’s addictive."

Her laughter carried a note of genuine delight.

Ilyas looked between the two of them, his thoughts montarily derailed. The Ramsy family... truly were a strange group.

At that mont, he found himself understanding, at least a little, why Micah had been drawn to Clyde Du Pont. Compared to the others, Clyde appeared calm, composed, and entirely free of this peculiar brand of unpredictability.

Even the vice director had her monts. She was usually cool and composed, yet the mont Micah appeared, she transford into an entirely different person, teasing relentlessly without restraint.

Why did they all change like this around Micah?

The thought lingered just long enough for Ilyas to forget his earlier embarrassnt. In fact, he even began to feel a faint sense of pity for Micah.

By the ti they reached the parking lot, the absence of reporters was imdiately noticeable.

Ilyas released a quiet breath of relief.

He had barely taken a few steps forward, following Aria, when a hand suddenly caught his arm and pulled him back.

"Huh?"

Darcy gestured toward another vehicle. "This is ours."

Ilyas glanced between the car and the others, realisation dawning.

Aria spoke up, her tone light. "I’ll head ho then. Send Micah a ssage once you have settled. He has been bombarding asking about you."

Ilyas nodded in understanding.

Dean, clearly satisfied, wasted no ti guiding Aria away.

After exchanging brief farewells, Ilyas soon found himself seated stiffly in the back of a car, right beside Darcy.

The silence that filled the space was suffocating. Fortunately, the journey did not last long.

Upon arrival, Darcy led him into Micah’s apartnt with quiet efficiency. Ilyas stepped into the living room, standing there awkwardly as he took in his surroundings.

Darcy opened a nearby door. "This will be your room," he said. "There are fresh linens and towels in the closet."

Ilyas nodded, though a small part of him wondered how Darcy seed so familiar with the space.

He hesitated, pressing his lips together. Then he shifted on his foot. His gaze wandered. "Umm...Thank you," he began softly.

Before he could continue, Darcy’s phone rang.

Darcy glanced at the screen, and his expression darkened almost instantly.

Ilyas fell silent.

"Sorry. Sothing ca up," Darcy said before turning and leaving the apartnt without another word.

The door closed behind him. Ilyas remained standing there, alone. After a long mont, he let out a deep breath. For the briefest second... He felt afraid. Darcy had looked nothing like himself at all. His expression was so terrifying.