Speaking of Yao Tianming, Micah’s thoughts circled back to the main reason he had befriended him. His gaze gradually shifted until it settled upon Ilyas, and as he observed the young man more carefully, his eyes narrowed with a quiet sharpness that betrayed the wheels turning inside his mind. Previously, when he had considered potential companions for Darcy, Yao Tianming had seemed like a perfectly acceptable choice. The young man possessed a naturally charming disposition, paired with a gentle and easygoing temperament that made others feel at ease in his presence. It had seemed reasonable, even practical, to imagine that such a personality might complement Darcy’s more reserved and distant nature.

However, things were starting to change, and another candidate came to mind. Why hadn’t he considered Ilyas before?

He was good-looking, decent, and quietly strong-willed. Even after such a horrific experience, he hadn’t broken under the trauma.

Ever since that incident, the one in which Ilyas got nearly abducted and Darcy found him, Ilyas’s behaviour toward Darcy had undergone a noticeable transformation. Before, there had been indifference, a casual disregard that suggested no particular interest or concern. Now, however, that indifference had been replaced by something far more telling. Ilyas no longer ignored Darcy. Instead, he either avoided him or acted awkwardly around him. There was a difference between those, and it was a difference that Micah found impossible to overlook.

Avoidance implied awareness. Awkwardness implied emotion.

And emotion, in Micah’s experience, always meant there was a story waiting to be uncovered.

Almost instinctively, the part of him that thrived on watching drama unfold, the part he jokingly referred to as his "gossipy antenna", seemed to rise to attention. It was as if an invisible signal had been detected, faint yet persistent, urging him to probe further. The sensation was oddly satisfying, like being the first one noticing the juicy drama and reserving a seat in front raw waiting to eat melon.

Leaning forward, Micah rested his elbows casually upon his knees, adopting a posture that appeared relaxed on the surface yet carried an unmistakable intent beneath it. His gaze fixed upon Ilyas, and there was a playful glint in his eyes, a spark of mischief that hinted at his true purpose.

"Tell me something," Micah began, his tone light and almost conversational, as though he were merely passing the time with idle chatter. "How do you see my brother?"

The reaction was immediate.

"Huh?" Ilyas startled as though struck by an invisible force, his entire body tensing for a brief moment before his composure fractured. His eyes darted from one side to another, unable to settle, as if searching for an escape route that did not exist. The unease in his expression was unmistakable, and for a fleeting second, it almost seemed as though he believed Micah had seen through him entirely. "I... I’m not really sure what you mean..."

Micah’s lips curved upward into a knowing smirk, the kind that suggested he was far from convinced by that attempt at evasion. "It’s not that complicated," he replied smoothly. "Just... What do you think of Darcy?"

Ilyas hesitated. There was a slight movement, subtle enough that it might have gone unnoticed by anyone less attentive, as Ilyas’s fingers began to fidget with the hem of his shirt. The motion was nervous, almost unconscious, and it spoke volumes.

"He... saved my life," Ilyas said at last, his voice steadier than his posture. "Of course, I think highly of him. He is a noble and kind person."

"Ah, yes," Micah responded, nodding slowly as though in agreement. "He is."

That wasn’t what he was asking. But it was good that he had a good impression of Darcy.

Quick! Time to change direction.

For a brief moment, Micah’s expression softened, touched by a hint of sincerity. "You’ve probably heard about my family situation. After everything that happened, I kind of feel like I owe him... and not in a small way." His gaze dropped slightly, and there was a trace of self-reproach in his voice as he continued, "So I’ve been thinking how do I make it up to him? Like, should I get him something? Or do something more meaningful?"

The question, though phrased innocently, carried a subtle weight to it, and Ilyas seemed to sense that weight immediately. He shifted where he sat, clearly uncomfortable.

"I’m not... very familiar with young master Darcy," he replied, his tone polite yet guarded. "So... I don’t think I’m the right person to give advice on that."

Micah did not press him directly. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as though considering another angle. "Hmm, fair enough. But you’ve got an older brother, right?" he asked casually. "What do you usually do for each other?"

He let out a soft sigh, leaning back slightly as he continued, "Honestly, I’ve got no idea how brothers are supposed to act. My sisters still treat me like a kid. They either spoil me or make fun of me. I don’t mind, but... I’m pretty sure that’s not how it’s supposed to be between brothers."

Ilyas seemed to relax just a fraction at the shift in topic, though the tension had not entirely left his shoulders. "My situation is somewhat different too," he admitted after a moment. "My brother’s a lot older. He basically raised me. So... I don’t really know what’s ’normal’ either."

He paused briefly before adding, with a hint of sincerity, "However, young master Darcy is a very thoughtful and understanding person. I think he’d appreciate anything you do."

Micah’s eyes curved slightly, forming a crescent shape as amusement flickered across his features. "You’re right," he said, his tone warm yet layered with something more perceptive beneath the surface. "He’s kind, smart... annoyingly perfect, honestly. And yeah... he’s good-looking too. It is almost frustrating how little he seems to need from anyone."

He allowed a brief pause, watching Ilyas carefully before continuing, "But I’ve noticed something lately. He keeps everything to himself. Always busy, always working. Doesn’t really let people get close. So I was thinking... maybe what he actually needs is someone around him." 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

The moment those words left his lips, he saw it.

Ilyas’s reaction was immediate and impossible to conceal. His eyes snapped toward Micah, widening ever so slightly, and there was a faint tightening in his expression that betrayed an emotion he could not fully suppress. It was subtle, yet unmistakable.

Curiosity deepened into certainty. Yes... there was definitely something there. Come on, at least react a little.

Tilting his head once more, Micah allowed a strand of his silver hair to fall lightly against his shoulder, catching the light in a way that made it appear almost luminous. "Do you know anyone," he asked with deliberate casualness, "who might be suitable for my brother?"

Silence followed.

It was not the comfortable kind, nor the thoughtful kind. It was heavy, suffocating, as though the air itself had grown thick with unspoken tension. Ilyas’s pupils trembled slightly, and for a moment, it seemed as though he could not find his voice at all.

Micah watched him with quiet interest, his expression composed yet attentive. What would he say? Would he recommend himself? Or confess?

Finally, Ilyas swallowed, the movement visible in the slight bob of his throat. "I’m sorry... I don’t believe I’m the most appropriate person to answer that," he said, his voice low. "My judgment’s not exactly great when it comes to... that kind of thing."

The words carried a weight of self-deprecation that Micah had not anticipated, and almost immediately, he realised he had stepped into sensitive territory. A flicker of regret crossed his features. Holy shit! Why did he forget about Ilyas online dating? He had chatted with that creep for weeks, so unguarded!

Micah inwardly facepalmed, cursing his loose tongue.

"Ah," he murmured softly, straightening his posture. "Sorry, my bad."

He rose to his feet, brushing off any lingering tension with a small, almost sheepish smile. "Anyway, I’m heading out to eat with him. You wanna come? I’ll treat you, make up for earlier."

Ilyas reacted quickly, waving his hands in mild panic. "No, it’s fine," he said, his refusal polite yet firm. "You said I’d be joining a crew, right? I’d rather look into that first and get ready."

Micah studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Alright. Manager Mullins should reach out soon with the details."

With that, he turned toward the door, lifting a hand in a casual wave. "I’ll get going, then."

His departure was as smooth as his entrance had been, his figure disappearing from the apartment with an effortless grace that left the space noticeably quieter in his absence.

As he stepped out into the open air, Micah allowed himself a moment to reflect.

Perhaps he had been overthinking the situation. It was entirely possible that Ilyas’s behaviour stemmed from something far simpler. After everything he had endured, it would not be surprising if he remained wary of those he did not know well. Darcy, with his naturally distant demeanour, could easily appear intimidating to someone already on edge.

Yes, that explanation made sense.

And yet...

Micah exhaled softly, shaking his head as though to dispel the lingering doubt. Regardless of the underlying reason, one thing remained clear: Ilyas held Darcy in high regard. That, at the very least, was reassuring.

Whatever might have occurred between them, it did not appear to be anything romantic.

With a small shrug, he dismissed the matter for the time being and directed his steps toward his next destination.

The Royal Dragon Pavilion awaited, its reputation for exquisite cuisine and refined atmosphere making it the perfect setting for the evening ahead.