From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 68: Paparazzi at the Gates

Chapter 68: Paparazzi at the Gates

Micah clicked the balcony door shut with a firm snap, then turned the lock. He tugged the thick curtain closed, one after the other. He stepped back and exhaled, dragging a chair over from the small table in the corner. He positioned the chair close to the door and sat stiffly on the edge of it. His body ached from the earlier movements, all that tugging and dragging had taken its toll on him. His shoulders were still sore from carrying Leo’s dead weight over the railing. But the most painful part was his stomach. The earlier hit had formed a massive bruise on his six-pack. His eyes twitched as he looked at still-unconscious Leo. "What a pig..."Micah scowled.

Staying here in pain while the culprit for his aching body lay blissfully unaware made his temper flair.

He should leave. He wanted to leave.

But every time he glanced at the door, he remembered the lurking paparazzi waiting with cameras. Even if he managed to slip past them, what if he ran into someone else? Someone from the actress’s or the manager’s camp?

He didn’t want to appear before them. What if someone remembered him? And connected him to tonight’s mess?! He couldn’t even stand straight. His awkward posture surely drew attention to him.

Micah shifted uncomfortably, tapping his foot against the floor, then stopping, then tapping again. He couldn’t sit still, feeling trapped. He wished to separate himself from this hotel as soon as possible.

But he couldn’t risk it.

So, he waited while his ears strained toward the hallway, filtering every creak of the building, every footstep, every distant ding of the elevator, so as not to miss anything related to tonight’s mess.

Meanwhile, Clara’s assistant was pacing relentlessly across the floor of their suite. She checked her phone, again and again. Half an hour had already passed.

But there were no heads up.

They had planned everything so carefully. First drugging Leo, second acquiring his hotel room key card, third exposing the affair.

At first, it was decided that Clara would go alone. That way, the sense of romance would be maximised. But at the last minute, Clara’s nerves became jittery, and she drowned in too much alcohol. It was inevitable that the task was forced on her manager to take her to Leo’s room.

The other unpredictable factor was the change of the dinner venue. This hotel’s security was tighter than in their original location. Hence, the assistant role came into play.

If it hadn’t been for the fans meddling, they would have had more room to execute their plan.

Anyway, all the assistant had to do was wait thirty minutes for a heads-up, then lead the lurking photographers to the hallway outside Leo’s suite. A scandal in the making. Easy exposure.

The assistant bit her lips and checked her phone once more. Nothing.

The unease grew in her. She dialled their numbers. No answers.

"Maybe they put it on silent mode..." She mumbled.

She paced around the room, her thoughts racing. She couldn’t mess up this golden opportunity.

With a quick breath, she braced herself and stepped out of the room. She went downstairs and led a group of three paparazzi from the entrance to Leo’s floor. As they approached Leo’s suite, an uneasy chill ran down her spine. It was too quiet. The door closed. This wasn’t their plan.

She gestured to the reporters to hide and stepped forward to knock on the door.

Still no response. Feeling nervous, she hastily dialled their phones again. No one answered. But she could hear a faint echo of ringtone filtered through the door.

Her eyes widened. The phone was still inside.

She knocked again, pounding now. "Clara! Open the door!"

With every second passing, she was more sure something had happened.

Her frantic actions began to attract attention. Doors creaked open down the hallway as other guests peeked out, frowning. Sure enough, hotel security arrived, drawn by the noise.

"What’s going on here?" a uniformed guard asked, stepping between her and the door.

"My employee went into this room," the assistant stammered, clutching her phone with both hands. "She hasn’t come out. I can hear her phone ringing inside. What if something happened?"

She thought that even if nothing serious had happened, by opening the door, they could get the picture they wanted. Clara, a nameless actress, would walk away with fame, Leo on the other hand, would burn from the backlash completely.

The guard’s face remained unreadable. He turned toward the hotel manager, who had now arrived and was scrolling through something on a tablet.

"Please! I am not lying. Just open the door."

The hotel manager didn’t budge at first. But after pulling up the CCTV footage and seeing three people had entered Leo’s room none came out since his expression darkened. He also felt something was amiss.

Meanwhile, Producer Moris also arrived at the scene. After hearing bits and pieces of what had happened, he asked suspiciously.

"Why did Clara and her manager enter Leo’s suite?"

"They just wanted to thank him. We had an early flight to catch, and actor Leo left the party before we could speak to him. He wasn’t feeling well, and Clara didn’t want to seem rude," she explained. "So, we thought we could offer a hangover drink to actor Leo while saying goodbyes..."

The reasoning was sound. No one would bring a manager to a secret rendezvous.

Producer Moris looked at the hotel manager.

He hesitated for a second before he finally nodded. "Open the door."

The assistant practically shoved the guard aside and rushed in the moment the lock clicked open.

She went straight to the bedroom, followed by confused hotel staff and lurking paparazzi.

But no one was in sight. Bedroom empty. Bathroom empty.

Suddenly, someone yelled. "Look at the floor! There are clothes scattered here..."

People followed the trail and arrived at a side room.

Just as a hand reached out to touch the door handle, the door swung open with a sharp click.

"Heck, finally opened." came a rough, breathless voice.

Everyone froze, gasping loudly.

Manager Hurt stood in the doorway, blinking furiously against the harsh flash of camera lights. He was naked. Behind him, two women stirred, Clara and her manager, disoriented and barely covered.

Manager Hurt stood in bewilderment when he saw the crowd gaping at him, cameras flashing nonstop.

Click. Click. Click...

His face drained of colour. "Wait... no. This isn’t..."

But it was too late. The shutters continued.

Ten minutes ago, Manager Hurt had woken up to the shrill sound of a phone ringing nearby. Only to discover the mess he was tangled in. Clara and her manager were unconscious, barely clothed.

It had taken everything, searching handbags, finding a nail grit, fumbling with trembling hands to pick the lock and escape.

But instead, the shutter of the cameras blinded him. One thing was certain.

It was a trap. They had all walked into it.

His eyes flashed red. Leo Mckay!

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