From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 173: A Strand of Silver

Chapter 173: A Strand of Silver

That night, Micah could not sleep.

He turned onto his side, then his back, then curled in, hugging his pillow. Nothing worked. His dorm bed felt too stiff. Two nights of sleeping at Clyde’s house had spoiled him. And his argument with Darcy didn’t help. It still echoed in his head.

His mind drifted back to earlier when Darcy snapped at him. Told him not to be impulsive. Not to get involved in dangerous stuff just because he felt like it. It stung. Not because Darcy was wrong. But because he had expected support. Instead...

He groaned and rolled over, punching his pillow in frustration.

His fingers crept toward his phone. He tapped on it and stared at the glowing screen. 1:35 am.

Micah opened his WeChat and scrolled down his contacts. His thumb hovered over Clyde’s name. He bit his lip, then he quickly flicked past it.

No. He wasn’t going to text Clyde. What would he even say? "Hey, can I borrow your guest bed again?"

Clyde had already mocked him for leaving his car there.

Micah paused. Funny. Clyde had said something similar to what Darcy told him tonight.

"Please... don’t make a risky move again. It’s the second time I’ve seen you. Both times...you were in dangerous situations."

But why hadn’t it hurt back then?

Was it because Clyde said it when Micah was disguised as a girl?

No... he knew why...he remembered the tone Clyde used. Even when he scolded him, his voice had that edge of amusement. His eyes never looked cold. They sparkled, almost like he enjoyed watching how Micah would squirm or talk back.

Clyde always stepped in when it mattered. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t dig into his reasons. He just showed up. Helped him.

Darcy though... Darcy had questions. And when he did not get answers, he seemed tired. like he was done putting up with Micah’s antics.

There was also something else in Darcy’s eyes. It felt like he didn’t want Micah to get tangled up with people....

Micah shook his head and rubbed his temples. What was he thinking? Why would Darcy be like that?!

No, maybe it was because he had done all these ridiculous things for Darcy... only to get criticised in return.

He backed out of Clyde’s chat and scrolled again. This time, he paused on Aidan. There was a mess too.

Aidan hadn’t texted since that night. Micah had gone to the charity gala as they planned. But before he could meet Aidan, he had gotten sidetracked... by the owner of the deformed roof car, Alex Ford. And somehow everything spiralled after that.

Why didn’t Aidan ask anything about it? Shouldn’t he be angry he didn’t show up?

Micah chewed his lips, staring at Aidan’s account. He sighed, then typed.

RogueOverlord: Hey. I did go to the gala. But I couldn’t find you. Was it a test? A prank? You ghosted me after I gave you top-tier hints! Is this how you treat an ally?

Surprisingly, a few seconds later, a reply came.

RiverBridge: I thought you bailed. I waited. Got no text from you. Figured you ditched.

Micah pursed his lips. Damn it. How to justify that? He didn’t even know what Aidan looked like. Had he seen him? That invitation... maybe Aidan had waited for him...

But why not show up? What was with the secrecy?!

RogueOverlord: I got pulled into something. It wasn’t on purpose. I thought you’d message me first.

No response. Micah stared at the screen, waiting. After a full minute, he added.

RogueOverlord: or maybe you just wanted to see me without revealing yourself? Just scoping me out? Never meant to meet me in person, huh?

There was no answer. Micah felt irritated. He wanted to give a piece of his mind but held back. He couldn’t demolish every bridge with him. Not right now.

Micah buried his face into the pillow and let out a muffled groan.

At the other end, Clyde sat in bed, staring at his phone. Micah still texted his RiverBridge account. It meant he still did not know who Aidan was. What a headache. What should he do? He didn’t like to lie to Micah.

If someday Micah knew the truth...which he would, eventually, Micah would probably blow up. Or worse shut him out entirely. This had to be sorted out as soon as possible.

Maybe he could show up in front of Aidan alongside Micah disguised as Asena? The fake girlfriend? Maybe that way Aidan would not search for Micah as a girl, and Micah would know Aidan’s identity.

It would be awkward, but cleaner than letting it fester.

His thoughts were interrupted by a buzz. He raised an eyebrow.

MagicalSon: Clyde... Heads up. I kinda told Jacklin you are seeing someone... don’t kill me! It was a slip!

Clyde closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Mason... he didn’t know he was this loose-lips!

RiverBridge: Tell me exactly what you told her.

The typing bubble popped up, then disappeared. Then popped up again. Mason was clearly panicking.

His phone buzzed again and again. Messages from Mason and Jacklin. A barrage.

Clyde tossed the phone aside onto the nightstand. He couldn’t deal with these two right now.

He looked up at the ceiling. No sign of sleep. He stood up and exited the master bedroom, not bothering to light up the house. His feet moved toward the guest room. The one Micah slept in for two nights.

The bed was made. Unused since Micah had left.

But Clyde pictured him here. Sprawled across the bed in weird sleeping positions. Drooling on the pillow. Mumbling nonsense in his dreams.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. Micah had tidied up everything. No one else had set foot in the house these past few days except Micah and him. He hadn’t even changed the sheets. Clyde ran his hand over the blanket.

He sighed in resignation and lay down. There was no smell, except the laundry detergent. His eyes caught something. A silver strand of hair. Thin, almost invisible in the dim light.

Clyde carefully picked it up between his fingers. He stared at it for a while, then turned his wrist and slowly wrapped the strand around one of the wooden beads on his prayer bracelet.

He closed his eyes while his fingers brushed the bead. The hair. A quiet warmth settled in his chest. The kind that didn’t make sense.

His breathing slowed down and finally, he drifted to sleep.