From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 158: Avoiding Clyde

Chapter 158: Avoiding Clyde

Micah stepped out of the room, rubbing his arm absentmindedly. The hallway outside was quiet except for the soft chiming sound of a bell. His steps were light, but his mind was heavy. His eyes darted around until they landed on Clyde, who was standing near the entrance with his arms crossed and eyes fixed on the wall.

As soon as Clyde saw him, he straightened slightly. "Finished?" he asked, his tone low and neutral.

"Hmm..." Micah hummed, his movements slow, almost distracted.

He didn’t look at Clyde when he answered. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his jacket, and his shoulders were slightly hunched. He stood almost a meter away from Clyde, not even making eye contact.

Clyde tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied Micah’s expression. "What is it? Are you in pain?"

Micah blinked, startled by the question. "Huh? No...I’m fine," he replied.

Clyde didn’t press further, but the sharp glint in his eyes deepened. His jaw tightened slightly, and one hand dropped to his side, curling into a fist before relaxing again. There was a flicker of something unreadable on his face, but he kept his voice even. "If so, let’s eat before you go."

Micah gave a short nod, still avoiding his gaze. As they walked out of the clinic, Micah trailed behind Clyde. Not just walking behind, he was dragging his feet, head tilted down like he was deep in thought. He didn’t even notice when Clyde slowed down to hold the door open for him.

Clyde glanced over his shoulder, watching the way Micah moved. His brows furrowed. It felt like Micah was walking behind him the way a subordinate followed his boss, not like a companion. The distance between them felt wider than a few steps. He turned back toward the path, lips pressed into a tight line.

They stepped into the restaurant. The familiar scent of warm broth and roasted tea drifted in the air. The moment was broken, though, by a loud sharp voice.

"Clyde! You traitor!"

Micah jolted and turned around.

Standing at the entrance to one of the side rooms was a man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. He was tall and had short black hair. His eyes were a vivid intense green. He wore a black leather jacket with casual arrogance. A silver earring gleamed in his left ear, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe with dramatic flair.

Micah stared then exclaimed. "Dylon Parisi?"

The man turned his gaze toward Micah with a half smirk on his face. "Well, well... so the rumour was true..." his eyes drifted back to Clyde. "But Your taste, tsk..."

"Dylon!" Clyde’s voice dropped. It had a warning in it. Sharp, cold warning.

"Oh! So protective already?" Dylon started, lifting a brow with mock interest. "You’re really falling hard for..."

Before he could finish, a sharp smack landed on the back of his head. He yelped and spun around.

"You again!" Lin Heye stood behind him, scowling like a parent catching a child stealing snacks before dinner. "What did I tell you, huh? No food for you!"

Dylon turned fast, rubbing the back of his head. "Hey! That was uncalled for! I was just joking last night! Come on, you know how much I love your cooking!"

His voice changed completely. He sounded like a kicked puppy trying to crawl back into favour. The shift in attitude was almost hilarious.

Clyde, watching the scene unfold, pinched the bridge of his nose.

Micah stared between them, baffled. "Are you friends with him? The famous music composer?! The one who won the Crosslight Award two years in a row?"

Clyde sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Really? Clyde, you are such a... Mmmm," Dylon’s voice was suddenly muffled as Lin Heye put his hands on Dylon’s mouth.

"Shut up and stop causing drama!" Lin Heye growled. "Come with me, you brainless prick!"

With that, he grabbed Dylon by the collar and dragged him off toward another room. Dylon squeaked like a goose, waving his arms. "Hey! I can walk! Don’t wrinkle my... this jacket is a gift!"

Micah’s lips twitched. "Well, he is definitely not like how he is in interviews."

"Yes," Clyde replied, the corner of his mouth twitching just a little. "He is eccentric. So don’t go near him."

Micah tilted his head. "That’s a pity. I wanted to ask him for an autograph. My sister, Aria, is a huge fan..." his voice trailed off, and his eyes widened in panic. Carp. He hadn’t meant to bring her up. What if Clyde asked more about her? What if he suspected something...?

Ahh...

Clyde glanced at Micah’s terrified reaction, eyes filled with amusement. "Ask Lin Heye. He can handle him."

Micah exhaled quietly in relief. Thank goodness Clyde did not say anything about Aria. Or more accurately, the girl Clyde had been mistakenly believed he was.

They entered a private room and sat down at a low table. Micah sat a little too far from Clyde.

Moments later, Dylon walked in with Lin Heye.

Dylon didn’t say a word, just sat down across the table and stared at them.

"Where is Mason?" Clyde asked.

"He is still overseas," Lin Heye replied.

Meanwhile, Dylon turned his head toward Micah, his eyes locked onto him with unnerving intensity.

Micah felt a chill run down his back. He shifted slightly, moving a bit closer to Clyde. His hands were folded in his lap, and he looked down at the table instead of meeting Dylon’s gaze. Why did it feel like the guy hated him already?

"Tsk," Dylon clicked his tongue.

Clyde reached for the teapot and poured them both some tea. He ignored Dylon completely, acting like the man didn’t exist. When Micah moved closer, Clyde noticed. A small shift in posture, a slight lean toward him, it was subtle, but it made something in Clyde’s chest loosen. Just a little.

Still, something wasn’t right. Clyde kept watching Micah from the corner of his eye. Clyde could feel something was off ever since the session.

That moment in the hallway, the way Micah avoided him, wasn’t normal.

Micah thought he had not noticed it but Clyde caught the slight hesitation and avoidance in his gaze. Like a child who was scolded by a parent not to get close to a stranger.

Clyde’s eyes darkened. What could Uncle Lin have told him?!

Did he say something about his past? His family? His reputation? No. Uncle Lin wouldn’t do that. He was not a busybody.

What could be the reason for his sudden change?

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