From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir’s Grand Scheme(BL)

Clyde closed the door behind him with a heavy thud, leaning against it for a moment as he let out a long, frustrated sigh. His shoulders sagged.

He had been practically thrown out of his own room without knowing why.

The morning had started with good intentions. He had risen earlier than usual, feeling refreshed after a good night's sleep, determined to catch up on the mountain of work that had been waiting for him. For nearly two hours, he sat hunched on a chair in the balcony, his long fingers tapping on his phone, sorting through documents, eyes narrowing as he flipped from one file to the next. He had barked clipped responses into calls with directors, issued swift instructions to assistants. But then he heard Micah's voice. The boy's body twisted on the bed, sheets tangled around his limbs as he cried out.

He had genuinely been worried when he shook the boy awake. But he hadn't expected that instead of Micah he would wake up the king of Yama.

He had no choice but to step out before the boy outright strangled him.

Now, standing in the corridor with his head bowed, Clyde pressed a hand to his temple. He had faced storms fiercer than most men dared, but Micah's angry outburst was something he didn't know how to handle.

He straightened his shirt and walked down the stairs. He thought maybe making some breakfast would cheer Micah up. The house was quiet, only the muffled creak of the floor under his steps and the wind against the windows accompanied him. When he pushed open the kitchen door, he came face to face with the butler. At the sound of Clyde entering, the butler inclined his head politely. "Morning, Mr Du Pont," he greeted.

"Good morning," Clyde said with a short nod.

"Do you require anything?" the butler asked, hands clasped neatly in front of him.

Clyde hesitated before answering, his eyes glancing briefly toward the gleaming countertops. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to make some breakfast myself."

The butler's brows rose, though his composure remained intact. "Ah, sir, I'm afraid the old madam follows a strict dietary regimen. Most of our meals are specially prepared and delivered by the nutritionists she employs."

There was no sharpness in his tone, but the refusal was clear.

Clyde raised an eyebrow, reading the subtext easily. It wasn't just about dietary restrictions. It was a polite wall being raised, one that reminded him he was unwelcome here. He didn't push. "Then, may I trouble you for a cup of coffee?"

The butler's expression softened back into neutrality. He inclined his head again. "Of course, sir."

While the coffee began to brew, Clyde stepped out onto the deck. The warm air brushed against his skin. He inhaled deeply.

Zhou Ruyan certainly had shown her disapproval of him, and she had never been subtle about it, and Clyde couldn't fault her. In truth, he didn't think he deserved Micah either. He was a man with too sinister a past, yet he couldn't let go of him.

Micah's warmth was something he had no right to crave, not after the endless cruelty he had shown against those four, but the boy had given it freely. That knowledge only deepened his hunger. His greed had taken root the moment he realised Micah felt something for him in return.

"Mr Du Pont."

A voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Clyde turned. Zhou Ruyan stood on the deck, her posture upright. She was dressed elegantly. Her presence was as composed as ever.

"Good morning, ma'am," he greeted, his tone respectful.

Zhou Ruyan came closer, and at that moment the butler appeared, carrying a tray with two cups, one of steaming coffee, the other tea set with sugar cubes. Clyde accepted his cup with a nod of thanks, wrapping his hands around it.

Zhou Ruyan moved to the side and sat on a recliner chair. She picked up her teacup, added a single cube of sugar, and stirred it slowly. "I trust you had a pleasant rest last night?" she asked, her voice carrying both politeness and scrutiny.

Clyde followed and lowered himself into the seat opposite her. "Yes. Thank you for the hospitality."

"Well, my silly grandson has surely been attending to you," she said with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Yes. He is too kind," Clyde replied softly.

Her stirring spoon paused. She set it down with a faint click and lifted her gaze to his, sharp and probing. "I hope, Mr Du Pont, that you will not take advantage of his good-hearted nature."

The words were gentle in tone, but each syllable struck like a measured blade.

"Madam, I can assure you, I would never allow anyone to exploit him. Not even myself. I hold Micah in the highest regard. He deserves nothing less than the best." Clyde said with a serious tone.

Longing flickered in his eyes, raw and unguarded. Zhou Ruyan's own gaze faltered for a heartbeat.

Those eyes made her feel complicated. She had spoken with Albert the night before. She had told him about the two unexpected guests arriving at the villa. Albert had fallen silent. Then he spoke with a grave tone. "Xiao Yan, should we meddle? Should we separate them? Or leave the choice to Micah? What is the right answer?"

Zhou Ruyan had been stuck on how to answer. Of course, neither of them was fond of Clyde. The man carried too much baggage to ever truly protect Micah. Yet, Darcy was also far from ideal. The power he held over Micah was not something they could ignore.

It was strange. Zhou Ruyan could see Micah had a soft spot for Darcy. It wasn't like he was too indifferent toward him. That was why Darcy held hope, why he lingered close. It was cruel to Darcy.

However, she did not have the heart to scold Micah for it. The boy was too ignorant, too obvious to understand what he was doing subconsciously. But if she told him now… she feared the consequences. So the only thing she could do was watch over them and not allow Clyde to get too close to Micah.

Who knew what the future held? Maybe Micah's feelings toward Darcy would get stronger and lose interest in Clyde.

Zhou Ruyan tore her gaze away from Clyde. "Words are cheap. Mr Du Pont, they come by the dozen."

"I know," Clyde admitted, his voice firm. "Which is why I will prove my intentions through action. Show you what lies in my heart, madam."

Zhou Ruyan took a sip from her tea. "We shall see. But for now, our family faces a difficult season. I hope you'll not drag Micah into more rumours by appearing with him."

Clyde paused. He turned his head toward her. "Is this a warning? Or a threat?"

Her lips curved faintly. "No, sir. I'm only an old woman. What power could I possibly have to threaten the Du Pont family? I speak not as an enemy, but as his grandmother. I don't wish any escalation that might wound either of my grandsons."