From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 243: A Place In the Moonlight

Micah led Darcy along the stone path behind the main building. He had chosen this time specifically, everyone’s attention, from his family members to the staff, would be fixed on the banquet, even Albert Ramsy wouldn’t be able to ignore the guests and arrive unnoticed there.

The path shimmered under the moonlight, but Micah was too preoccupied to notice the beauty of it.

His heart was pounding in his chest. The closer they got to his grandmother’s residence, the tighter the knot in his stomach grew. Each step felt like it drained a little more of his strength. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, even though it was open more than usual, it still felt too tight, like it was slowly choking the air out of him. Cold sweat began forming on his face.

Beside him, Darcy walked quietly, but his eyes kept flickering toward Micah. He could tell something was off. Micah was too stiff. Too quiet.

Was it that important? Did meeting his grandmother mean something else? Why did it feel like Micah was walking to his execution, where a guillotine waited for him?

"How was the banquet?" Darcy spoke finally.

Micah jerked his head in surprise, locking eyes with Darcy for a brief second before looking away. "Total disaster!" he said with a whiny voice. "You won’t believe it...Emile showed up."

Darcy chuckled under his breath. "Oh, no. You’re so screwed."

"Yeah," Micah said, dragging a hand on his face. "He was so mad."

"How did he know about it? Was it because of that post?" Darcy asked, amused.

Micah stopped walking and turned sharply, jabbing a finger toward him. "Aha! I knew that was coming!"

Darcy let his smirk show fully. His eyes danced under the garden lights.

"This is technically your fault," Micah grumbled, glaring. "If you hadn’t snuck up on me, I wouldn’t have panicked and blasted that post to everyone!"

Darcy paused. "What? Everyone?"

"Yeah. Everyone! They all saw it! Not just my family." Micah crouched down suddenly, covering his red face with both hands. "Fuck! That was so embarrassing."

Darcy stared at him, caught between concern and laughter. He hadn’t expected that the WeChat moment had been seen by everyone.

He knew he shouldn’t feel happy about it, really, but a sense of satisfaction spread through his heart. It was like he was claiming Micah was his... his eyes flashed for a second. His fingers itched as he fought to suppress the feeling.

Micah dropped his hands and looked up at that moment, cheeks still red. "I should just change my number and claim I got hacked!"

Darcy stiffened, slightly taken aback. "Why? Is it because my cake was so ugly...or you hate people to know I made it?"

"Huh?! What does that have to do with what I said?" Micah asked in perplexity.

Then he stood up straight, feeling Darcy had become too sensitive. "Let’s be clear," Micah said, exasperated. "My embarrassment had nothing to do with the cake or you. I’m embarrassed because of that cringy caption. It made it sound like I was bragging about being in a relationship!"

"And that’s so bad?" Darcy mumbled.

Micah didn’t catch the phrase, busy to complain about the post’s effect on him. "Do you know how many people I had to dodge today? That post was like a spell, suddenly breaking my invisibility curse or something. I caught the attention of all guests. It was like the game went from easy mode to hell mode in seconds. Everyone in there was trying to set me up with someone." Micah grumbled. "I fought tooth and nail to get out. It was so brutal."

Darcy’s gaze lowered, jaw tensing. Just imagining others clinging to Micah, laughing beside him, offering drinks, brushing against him, trying to seduce him, made his blood boil. He kept his expression cool, but inside he was seething. "Is that so..." he said, voice barely above a whisper.

"I did delete it before the party, but it was too late..." Micah mumbled with a sigh.

Darcy looked ahead. "Well, maybe changing your number isn’t such a bad idea..."

"You think so?" Micah glanced over, surprise.

But like a balloon that was pierced, Micah deflated. He pushed up his glasses, brows knitted together. "Unfortunately, the damage’s already done...I’m afraid my family has no choice but to arrange some blind dates for me to shut down those old greedy business partners," he said, dropping his head in misery.

There was a beat of silence.

Darcy shoved his hands in his pants pockets, looking away. His fingertips dug into his palms. The words sat on the tip of his tongue, heavy and stupid and dangerous: You could say I’m your boyfriend. Use me as a shield.

But he swallowed them back. He needed to control himself. He had to restrain himself, even now.

That wasn’t what Micah wanted. He couldn’t do that to him. He was just a friend. That’s all Micah saw him as. And besides, asking to be a shield was like asking to be temporary. Disposable. He didn’t want to be Micah’s convenient escape. He wanted something real.

Yeah, he wanted Micah’s heart, not borrowed time.

Micah turned his head and looked at Darcy.

The wind caught the edge of Darcy’s grey jacket, brushing it back slightly. His dark hair shifted with the breeze, and the moonlight painted a soft glow along the edge of it, highlighting the unique jet black colour.

Micah’s eyes slid down to the sharp jawline, the prominent Adam apple, the slender neck, and the slight sight of collarbone...

Micah swallowed hard.

The suit, the black shirt with a wide open collar, the perfect posture, and the masculine aura... it was as if he came out of a drama.

Micah couldn’t deny it; Darcy really did feel like the protagonist of this world.

Even he sometimes found Darcy irresistible. Maybe he should not let him wear suits until everything was ready. This version of Darcy was too dangerous. He had to hide it from those twisted male leads. Micah thought to himself.