From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 233: Micah, Micah, Where is Your Lover?

Micah tugged the last button into place and stepped to the side. A smile spread across his face, smug and almost glowing with satisfaction. "Done," he said softly, turning Darcy gently toward the full-length wall mirror.

Darcy moved stiffly. As soon as his eyes landed on his reflection, he froze.

The young man staring back at him wasn’t the shabby university student with worn sneakers and a hoodie pulled up to block out the world. No, this man looked... impressive. Handsome. Grown. His usually messy dark hair was carefully swept back, the soft strands brushed up and away from his forehead to reveal the smooth line of his brow. His jaw appeared more refined like this, clean and sharp. He looked more like someone from a magazine spread than a campus boy who was scraping money for cafeteria food.

The three-piece suit he wore was a stormy grey, tailored to his body. It followed the line of his shoulders and tapered at his waist, highlighting the natural slope of his body. The fabric looked soft to the touch but strong. Expensive. Something you wouldn’t find even in a high-end store.

Beneath the jacket, a jet black silk shirt added contrast, the top two buttons left undone in a careless way that looked intentional. It gave him an edge, like someone formal but not uptight, elegant with a hint of danger. The handkerchief folded in his breast pocket was sleek black, crossed with diagonal lines of white thread, and looked embroidered.

And on his wrist, Micah had slipped on a watch, simple but bold, the kind that screamed one of a kind.

Darcy stared at himself, dazed. His fingers twitched at his sides.

"What do you think?" Micah asked, stepping up beside him, voice light but eyes gleaming with pride. He tilted his head slightly, clearly admiring his own handiwork and Darcy’s stunned reaction.

Darcy swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. His eyes flickered to Micah’s expression, bright, pleased, utterly delighted. That damn smug face was so punchable.

He wanted to pinch his cheek, teasing him, but stopped himself just in time. Darcy looked away. If he left a red patch on Micah’s cheek now, it would be noticed immediately. Micah was about to go home. To a banquet. To a family event. Showing up with finger marks on his face wasn’t ideal.

"Don’t you think it’s too... bold for meeting your grandma? I’m not even gonna show myself at the banquet," Darcy said instead.

"Sorry. I got a bit carried away. I mean, look at you. How could I not?" Micah scratched his cheek. Honestly, he wanted Darcy to show up polished and elegant. He had an ulterior motive for doing all of that.

Darcy’s expression softened.

Micah cleared his throat and stepped back. "That’s it. I should head back before my mum comes for me with a broom. You have the address. I’ve booked a car for you. Just come down when I message you. When you arrive, I will be at the entrance," Micah said, grabbing his phone and bag.

"Hmm," Darcy hummed.

"Oh," Micah added as he opened the door, half turning back. "You can take off the suit now. I showed you how to button it properly. So you will be fine later. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

With a final nod and a flash of a grin, Micah disappeared out the door, shutting it behind him with a soft click.

Darcy stood motionless in the living room. His hands slid into the suit pockets and then back out again, fidgeting. He glanced at his backpack on the ground. He hadn’t given the gift. The chance had passed again. He sighed, deep and frustrated. Micah was always like this. Like a whirlwind. A ball of untamed energy. He never paused long enough for anyone else to catch their breath, let alone find the right words. Darcy looked back at the mirror once more and gently touched the lapel of the suit jacket. He hadn’t expected to be wearing anything like this today. It felt like stepping into someone else’s life. Someone more important. More visible.

And somehow, that frightened him more than attention itself.

*****

Micah climbed into the car waiting in the lot. Driver Dan gave him a polite nod, already pulling away from the curb as soon as the door shut.

Micah let out a sigh and leaned back against the seat. He finally found time to look at his phone. He winced at the sight: missed calls, unread messages, and flashing notifications. Dozens of them.

He grimaced. He tapped through a few, recognising familiar names of people who only remembered his existence when they needed something or when there was a party. Polite messages. Superficial congratulations. Empty warmth.

He tossed the phone back again into his bag and stared out the window.

His family had texted him the night before. Short but genuine. Or thoughtful like Darcy’s text.

The difference was painfully obvious.

When Micah arrived at the Ramsy estate, the entire place buzzed with activity. Staff bustled back and forth with trays of cutlery and arrangements of plates, busy with the last touches of decoration.

He stepped inside and immediately spotted his mother across the hall, dressed in an elegant navy gown. She was speaking with the butler, her expression focused.

"Mum," Micah called out.

Elina turned at once, her head snapped up. When she saw him, her expression softened instantly into a glowing smile. She walked straight to him. "Micah! Happy birthday, sweetheart."

He chuckled, letting her pull into a brief but tight hug. "Thanks. You look beautiful, Mum."

"Oh? Do I?" she giggled. "Of course I should. today is important."

Then she craned her neck, peeking behind him. "Are you alone, Sweetheart?"

"Huh? Did you expect someone?"

"No, no." Elina waved her hand. "Come on, go upstairs and get ready," Elina said, pushing him.

"Alright, alright," Micah said and left. Yet, after a few steps, he glanced back at her, suspicious.

His mother seemed too mellow. Had she been drinking or something? Shouldn’t she scold him why had he coming late?

Strange.

Micah shook his head and went upstairs.

As soon as he disappeared up the staircase, Elina turned sharply and darted toward the study room. She shut the door behind her and nearly burst with anxiety.

"Jacob! He came alone!" she said in a rush, hands flapping. "What should we do? I thought for sure he’d bring the person who made the cake!"

Jacob, who was seated with his phone, looked up, alarmed. "You are being too laid-back about this! What if that person is a gold digger? Or worse, someone shady?"

"I don’t care! You know he has never shown any sign of dating. You know Willow’s partner was arranged. And Aria, god bless her, she is too spirited and picky to date. I was hoping Micah would bring someone today." Elina said, gushing.

Jacob stood up and walked toward her. "He has always acted as an escort for Aria to these formal parties. If he had someone, he would have told Aria. You know he is surprisingly considerate of these things toward his sisters."

"Yeah. You’re right."

He glanced at his watch. "Let’s go. The relatives will be arriving any minute."

"Oh, don’t remind me." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I hope Edmund behaves tonight," Elina said with a sigh.