From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 35: Champagne Nights and Cheap Friendships(part 2)

Chapter 35: Champagne Nights and Cheap Friendships(part 2)

The evening air was thick with heat as the sun disappeared behind the city skyline. In front of the bar, a group lingered under the flickering neon sign, laughter and cigarette smoke swinging lazily into the dusk. Evan stepped closer to Micah, his eyes flicking to the orange sports car that was parked nearby.

"Damn, Micah! You just gave it away?"

He asked, trying to sound amused, but the sharp edge in his voice betrayed him.

"You are really something!"

Micah arched a brow as a slow grin spread across his face. His sunglasses slid just low enough on his nose to reveal the glint in his hazel eyes.

"What? You want one too?"

He said lazily, amused.

Before Evan could say anything, Jullian laughed, spinning the keys around his finger like a trophy.

"Better luck next time, bro," Jullian said with a smirk, his voice smug.

Evan’s jaw clenched, his fists curled at his sides, fuming inside.

The tension between them escalated. They tried to play it cool, but anyone watching closely would notice the way Evan’s eyes narrowed and Jullian’s smirk grew just a bit too wide.

The two had always been rivals. Jullian relied on flattery to charm his way into Micah’s favour, while Evan took a different approach, provoking Micah’s competitive streak to trick him into making bets and losing money.

Micah knew the two did not get along, assuming it was just a clash of egos. But after reading the novel, he knew better now. They were fighting over him. Who could gain more from the gullible young master?

To them, Micah wasn’t a friend. He was a prize.

He stepped past them with an air of indifference. "Let’s go in."

Inside, the bar was dark and cool, with low-hanging lights casting shadows across the wide-open floor. The air buzzed with chatter and mellow music. A live band was performing on a small stage, a woman with long hair singing into the mic while soft guitar chords played in the background.

The bar was decently crowded, some people leaned against the bar, chatting over drinks. Others sat in cozy booths that lined the perimeter, dimly lit and private.

The scent of alcohol and cigarettes mixed with the faint smell of perfume and cologne.

Jullian puffed up with pride as he stepped ahead, gesturing grandly.

"The first floor is for the general crowd, but the second floor? That is where the magic happened. VIP only. Premium bottles, private rooms, weekend DJ sets. Hell, I even thought of adding dancers!"

He grinned at Micah, fishing for approval.

"What do you think? Are you satisfied?"

Micah didn’t answer right away. His eyes drifted across the layout. He was taking everything in, looking for cameras, security, and blind spots.

"Let’s head upstairs," he said coolly.

Jullian lit up.

"Knew you’d say that. I planned it with you in mind, after all. Come on, our dear investor, let me show you what you paid for."

Micah followed, his steps slow and deliberate, his sharp eyes still scanning.

Fortunately, there were no cameras. Considering how new the place was, and the shady business vibe, they’d only bothered installing CCTV on the first floor.

As they claimed the stairs, Jullian kept up a steady stream of chatter, bragging about future plans and weekend events, until they reached a long hallway lined with private rooms.

Micah spotted a room at the far end of the hallway, it was small with a ’manager’ sign hanging on it. He made a mental note.

Jullian was still talking. "... and we’re thinking of installing a whiskey wall too. Limited edition stuff. You know, real classy."

"Yeah, yeah..." Micah waved a hand dismissively.

"Let’s just crack open a fine bottle of Champagne."

Jullian excitedly nodded.

"You got it." he snapped his fingers at a passing server.

"Get us the Dom. Wait, add Veuve Clicquot Brut to that."

They settled into one of the more lavish rooms. A semi-circle leather couch was arranged around a polished table, already lined with snacks and bottles.

Micah sank into the couch, stretched his legs out, and drained one arm over the backrest, every movement filled with an air of arrogance.

Micah wasn’t acting, he usually behaved like that.

The others entered behind them, some familiar, others just tagalongs. People who hung around like flies, drawn to the scent of money.

With rows of bottles arranged on the table, Jullian began toasting to Micah.

Micah clicked his glass to Jullian’s and others, taking a small sip.

When Evan leaned in, holding out his drink for a toast too. Micah didn’t move. Instead, he tilted his head and stared at him with a raised brow.

"Do you still remember last time?"

The room fell silent.

Evan stiffened slightly.

The rest of the group glanced at each other, unsure if it was a joke or something else.

The last time they were all together, Evan had forced Micah to drink excessively, which led to a nasty fall, a concussion, and hospitalisation.

They all had agreed to pretend it didn’t happen, especially since Jullian needed Micah’s money to keep the bar running.

Now Micah bringing it up, they felt awkward.

Jullian laughed, trying to break the tension.

"Ah, our bad. How about I take this one for you?"

Micah sneered and said.

"You’d better. I have not forgotten what you all did. In fact, consider this your punishment, every one of you better finish these bottles."

The group laughed happily, thinking Micah was gullible enough to buy them drinks and still think it was some kind of punishment. They were all experts in drinking. Those expensive bottles? They even couldn’t see them up close before! Who would consider this a punishment?

Micah peeled a peanut and popped it into his mouth, listening to their chatter. Flattering him nonstop.

An hour passed, the alcohol flowed, and the noise rose. Jullian was slurring now, flushed from head to toe. Evan had disappeared somewhere, probably sulking.

Micah stood up suddenly.

"Gotta hit the restroom."

He slipped out of the room. No one questioned it.

Once outside, he glanced around quickly. Then darted down the hall toward the door he had marked earlier. It was unlocked. He slipped inside and shut it behind him, heart thumping as he scanned the dim room. Papers were scattered on the desk, receipts, flyers, and order forms but nothing useful. No contracts, no ledgers. No familiar names.

Micah cursed under his breath.

Flustered, he decided to use his last card.

He returned to the VIP room. The place was a mess of half-empty bottles and dropping heads. Julian was lying across a couch, giggling at nothing.

Micah sat beside him. "Still drinking?"

Jullian groaned and reached for another bottle. Micah helped him pour, keeping the glass full. Every few minutes, he would refill it, urging him to drink more.

As Jullian laughed and leaned against him, getting handsy in that sloppy drunk way of his, Micah carefully searched for his phone.

His gaze caught Jullian’s phone tucked in his pants pocket.

He waited until Jullian fell asleep. No matter how much a good drinker Jullian was, after hitting his limit, the alcohol would take effect.

Micah glanced around. No one was paying attention. With one swift motion, he pressed Jullian’s finger to the scanner and unlocked it.

He stood up and left the room.

Locking the door in the restroom, Micah scrolled through Jullian’s phone. Contacts messaged. Nothing stood out. Until he saw the name:

Boss A.

His heart pounded. Was this Aidan Wilson?

There were no messages, no calls. Jullian had been clever enough to delete everything.

Micah stared at the number, then pressed the call button, needing to make sure it was really the fourth male lead.

The call rang for a long time before a man answered.

"What?!"

Micah did not speak.

"Mr Miller?" the voice, cold and low, asked again. "Is there something wrong with the target?"

Micah hung up immediately.

That confirmed it.

He quickly jotted down the number into his own phone when the phone rang again in the middle.

Boss A.

Eyes wide, Micah turned off the phone in a flash and dropped it into the toilet.

He returned to the room like nothing happened, smoothing his expression into bored detachment. He stayed for another hour, listening to their slurred jokes and flattery before finally standing.

"Okay, that’s enough. I have seen just how sincere you all are. I am leaving," he said flatly.

Jullian waved at him sleepily while the others echoed a slurred farewell.

Micah walked out of the bar with a quiet sigh of relief.

His eyes gleamed, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in them. He was enjoying the thrill.