From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 711: The Tragic Consequences of Banishing Your Husband

Chapter 711: The Tragic Consequences of Banishing Your Husband

As a direct result of his lingering resentment and wounded pride, Clyde had been firmly banished from the master bedroom.

The decision had been made with great authority and dramatic flair on Micah’s part. At the time, it had felt completely justified. In fact, Micah had delivered the verdict with such conviction that Clyde had not even attempted to argue. He had simply accepted the sentence with a faint smile and obediently moved to the guest room.

However, now that some time had passed, Micah was beginning to suspect that perhaps, just perhaps, his decision had been slightly... impulsive.

After dinner, Micah had eaten until he could not possibly swallow another bite. The takeout had been surprisingly good, and despite his sour mood earlier, he had ended up devouring most of it. With a full stomach and lingering exhaustion from the long day, he had returned to the bedroom and thrown himself dramatically onto the bed.

And yet now, lying there in the darkness, Micah’s eyes were wide open. There was not the faintest hint of sleep in them. The reason was simple. Because he had slept for several hours earlier in the afternoon and evening, his body had apparently decided that it had already rested enough for the day. Now it refused to cooperate.

Micah stared blankly at the ceiling. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the distant noise of the city outside the penthouse windows. Normally that quiet atmosphere would have been comforting, but tonight it only made the boredom worse.

He rolled onto his side. Then onto his back. Then onto his other side. After repeating this process several times, Micah let out a long, frustrated sigh.

His earlier outburst replayed itself in his mind, and the more he thought about it, the more irritated he felt with himself.

If he had not kicked Clyde out so decisively earlier, then right now things would be very different.

For example, he could be comfortably nestled in the man’s arms at this very moment, enjoying the steady warmth and the gentle rhythm of Clyde’s breathing. Even better, Clyde could be giving him one of those ridiculously relaxing massages that somehow always managed to melt the tension out of his muscles.

Or... Micah’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Or he could have spent the night tormenting the man instead. Yes, that option sounded even more appealing.

He could have tickled Clyde until the man begged for mercy. Or he could have punched his shoulder a few times like a convenient punching bag whenever his frustration flared up. He could have poked him awake every time Clyde tried to sleep, just to make sure the man suffered a little in return. That would have been perfectly fair.

Instead... Micah stared bitterly at the empty space beside him. Now that annoying man was probably sleeping peacefully in the guest room.

Micah could practically imagine the scene. Clyde sprawled comfortably across the bed, one arm behind his head, dreaming about the earlier bliss. Maybe he was wandering happily through some paradise, smiling that stupidly satisfied smile of his.

The thought alone made Micah’s blood pressure rise.

"Bastard!" Micah hissed under his breath. He punched the pillow beside him. The pillow, unfortunately, offered no satisfying response.

Micah scowled. Even worse, he couldn’t distract himself with his phone either.

He had deliberately left it charging in the living room earlier, so the man wouldn’t have an excuse to come to the master bedroom and check on him. Now he regretted that decision deeply.

"Ah..." he groaned miserably.

Full of indignation with absolutely no way to release it, Micah finally sat up in defeat. If he couldn’t sleep, then lying in bed was pointless.

He swung his legs over the side of the mattress and stood up. Then he marched out of the bedroom with dramatic determination.

His footsteps echoed loudly through the quiet penthouse.

Micah stomped his feet intentionally as he walked, making sure each step landed with exaggerated force. When he reached the door, he opened it loudly. Then he closed it loudly. Then opened it again. Then closed it again.

The noise echoed through the hallway.

Honestly, the commotion was loud enough to wake up even the poor armadillos living somewhere far away in the wilderness.

Satisfied with the racket he had created, Micah headed toward the kitchen. He was thirsty anyway.

The bright kitchen lights flicked on, and Micah grabbed a glass before filling it with water. He took a long drink, letting the cool liquid soothe his throat.

Just as he finished swallowing, a sudden sound echoed behind him. A door opened. Micah turned his head. A smug expression immediately appeared on his face.

Clearly, his earlier noise had worked. He had woken Clyde up.

But the next moment, Micah’s eyes widened in complete surprise. Clyde stood in the hallway. And Clyde was... naked. Well, almost naked.

Apparently, the man had rushed out in a hurry because his blond hair was still wet from the shower. Water droplets clung to his skin and slowly slid down the curves of his chest and shoulders.

A small towel was wrapped loosely around his waist. And by "wrapped," it was really more like barely hanging on for dear life.

The fabric hardly covered the most important area at all.

Micah suddenly felt his mouth go dry, even though he had just finished drinking water. His eyes moved involuntarily across Clyde’s body. The man’s broad chest was marked with red scratches and faint bite marks. Micah immediately recognised them. They were clearly his own doing.

The moisture from Clyde’s recent shower caught the kitchen lights, making his skin glisten faintly. The sight was strangely mesmerising.

Micah’s gaze wandered lower. Then lower. His mind unhelpfully replayed certain memories from earlier that day.

His throat tightened. He gulped loudly.

Across from him, Clyde watched the boy with a mixture of exasperation and confusion. When he had heard all that noise earlier, he had assumed something terrible had happened. Maybe Micah had slipped. Maybe he had gotten hurt.

Clyde had panicked. He had jumped out of the shower, grabbed the nearest towel, and rushed out immediately. But now here Micah was. Standing perfectly fine. Staring at him. And very obviously ogling him.

Clyde nearly laughed. The urge to tease Micah rose immediately. But then he remembered how furious the boy had been earlier when he had been exiled from the bedroom.

Teasing him now would probably end badly. So Clyde reconsidered. Instead of teasing, he decided to take a different approach. Over time, Clyde had learned something important about Micah.

Micah could be stubborn, proud, and dramatic. But he had a weakness and that was Clyde’s body. He had noticed several times that whenever Micah had seen him naked, he had reacted to him, blushing or even nose bleeding.

Yes... Seduction was a far safer strategy than provocation.

With that decision made, Clyde walked closer with a worried expression. "Are you alright?" he asked gently. "I heard running and banging sounds. I thought something had happened."

Micah cleared his throat awkwardly. Now that Clyde was standing directly in front of him, the man’s bare chest was almost at eye level. It made the situation embarrassingly distracting.

"Hmm?" Micah said, trying to sound casual. "You probably heard wrong. You know... when you’re in the shower, your mind plays tricks on you."

Clyde watched him with clear amusement. But he simply nodded. "You’re right," he agreed calmly. "That’s good. I’m glad you’re fine. Call me if you need anything. I’m going to get dressed first."

Then he turned around and began walking back toward the guest room.

Micah watched him leave. At first, he felt relieved. Then his eyes slowly drifted downward. His gaze travelled from the soles of Clyde’s feet...

Up his calves...

Past his thighs...

Then Micah bit his lip. His eyes landed squarely on Clyde’s firm, muscular backside. Holy crap.

Micah’s face turned bright red. He quickly looked upward in panic, worried that he might suffer another embarrassing nosebleed. But as his gaze moved higher, something else caught his attention.

Scars. Several faint scars crossed Clyde’s back.

Micah froze. His earlier amusement faded slightly. The sight made his heart soften unexpectedly. He quickly tore his gaze away and took another sip of water.

Meanwhile, Clyde had already reached the guest room and quietly closed the door behind him. Inside the room, he chuckled to himself before quickly getting dressed. The intense gaze Micah had directed toward him had made his skin tingle.

Just as he finished putting on a shirt, a knock sounded on the door. Clyde’s smile returned immediately. But he quickly wiped the expression away before opening the door.

Micah stood outside. The moment Clyde appeared, Micah spoke in a spoiled tone. "I can’t sleep," he declared.

Then, like an emperor ordering his favourite concubine, he said, "Come massage me."

Without waiting for a response, Micah turned and walked back toward the master bedroom.

Clyde’s suppressed smile finally broke free. A few minutes later, he happily returned to his rightful place beside his wife in bed.

Micah had already climbed back onto the bed and was lying face down. Clyde sat beside him and began working as a dedicated masseuse. His hands moved slowly across Micah’s back, shoulders, and arms, easing the tension from his muscles.

Micah closed his eyes. The massage felt annoyingly good. But not even five minutes later, he suddenly spoke.

"It’s enough," Micah said quickly. "Let’s sleep."

Inside his mind, Micah was already cursing Clyde furiously. That stupid man had completely ruined his body. The moment Clyde touched him, his body had reacted immediately.

What the hell?!

After everything that had already happened earlier, how could his body still react like this? Was he seriously that shameless?

Micah wanted to cry.

Clyde, meanwhile, behaved like the perfect gentleman. He pretended not to notice anything. He simply lay down beside Micah obediently.

The familiar scent of sandalwood drifted through the air. Combined with Clyde’s warmth and steady breathing, the atmosphere should have been calming. Instead, Micah’s reaction only worsened. After a moment of hesitation, Micah slowly moved closer.

Clyde had been waiting for exactly this. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Micah and pulled him close. A satisfied warmth spread through his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on Micah’s hair. Then another on his forehead. Eventually, his lips brushed softly against Micah’s.

Micah did not protest.

Encouraged by the response, Clyde deepened the kiss slightly. His movements remained slow and careful, far more controlled than earlier.

This time he took his time. Every small reaction from Micah, every breath, every movement, was savoured. However, Clyde remained cautious. He knew Micah’s body had already been through enough for one day. So he deliberately stopped before things went too far.

Eventually, the moment faded. Micah buried his face against Clyde’s chest. Post-nut clarity kicked in almost immediately, feeling ashamed that he had given in to his desires once again. Two hours ago he had sworn not to let Clyde touch him again.

And yet here he was. Completely exhausted and drained by the man. Again.

Micah immediately blamed Clyde for everything. Clearly, it was the man’s fault. He had used a honey trap on him intentionally. Yes. That explanation made perfect sense. Feeling reassured by his own logic, Micah relaxed.

After another wave of emotional exhaustion washed over him, sleep finally claimed him. Surprisingly fast.

The next morning, Clyde left early for the company. Micah, however, stayed behind. He had received a message from Georgina asking him to have lunch together.

After getting ready, especially concealing the multiple hickey with foundation, Micah put on a mask and a cap before leaving the building.

Arriving at the restaurant, he stepped inside the private room and put away his mask and cap.

When Georgina saw him glowing, with sparkling eyes and faint love marks on his neck, she burst out laughing.

Micah blinked in confusion. "Teacher, what’s the matter?" he asked, quickly checking his clothes.

Georgina waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing, nothing," she said. "I think I was just worrying unnecessarily."

Then she handed him a small bag. "Anyway, I got you something. But promise me you’ll open it at home."

Micah accepted the bag happily, already forgetting about why she had laughed. Anything from Georgina was usually related to fashion, which meant it was almost certainly something interesting.

They spent the rest of lunch chatting about the newest trends in the industry. Georgina also mentioned that Micah’s recent design had been circulating widely. Apparently one of her old friends had contacted her because of it. He wanted to collaborate with Micah on an upcoming collection.

"He’s trustworthy," Georgina assured him. "He won’t take advantage of your popularity."

Micah nodded thoughtfully. Then he smiled. "Alright," he said. "I’ll meet him."

With that decision made and the meal finished, Micah stood up and walked out of the restaurant, already curious about what opportunities awaited him next.