CHAPTER 533: THE DAY MICAH LEARNED THE NOVEL LIED

Inside the hospital room, the air felt dense, heavy with tension. The faint beeping of the monitor filled the silence.

Darcy sat on the edge of the bed, hands clutching the blanket, while Micah stood above him, disbelief written all over his face. His chest rose and fell quickly, eyes wide.

Darcy’s dream about him being with Silas was ridiculous. Even joking about it made Micah break out in hives!

Then Darcy dropped another bombshell on him.

"What I’m saying is... Micah, you are in danger. Not just you, even this man beside you... and me. I saw it." His voice cracked, full of desperation. "Someone killed me and Clyde right in front of your eyes."

Micah’s jaw dropped in shock. What Darcy had seen had to be a nightmare! Not flashes or dreams. He should bring a temple priest to exorcise the evil around Darcy!

What the hell? With every word Darcy uttered, it became more like a horror movie. Micah feared what would come next out of his mouth.

Meanwhile, Clyde, who had been standing near the wall, gritted his teeth. What a nerve! He had killed him and was still claiming it was someone else? What was his game?

He shouldn’t have let him talk with Micah. He thought Darcy wanted to apologise to Micah for his past deeds, but instead, the young man started spouting lies and nonsense.

"I’m calling the doctor. You’ve lost your mind," he said and turned toward the door, already done with the conversation.

Darcy’s emotions got out of hand. He shot up from the bed. "No! Wait! I am not finished!" His voice cracked, loud enough to echo. "I am telling the truth! The Ramsy family will go bankrupt! My mum! She will die because there was no donor for her stem cell transplant..."

Clyde froze mid-step. For a moment, time stopped. Then his entire posture changed, rigid shoulders snapping straight, his head whipping toward Darcy. The colour drained from his face.

He rushed toward the bed, eyes burning. He had to stop Darcy before he said anything more. They were Micah’s Achilles heels. Every time he had died because of that procedure. "Darcy!" His voice was a growl, low and dangerous. "Don’t you dare to..."

He was one step away from grabbing Darcy by the collar when Micah shoved past him and gripped Darcy’s shoulders tightly. "What did you say?" His voice was trembling, almost frantic. "Say that again."

Darcy flinched under the sudden grip but still met Micah’s crazed look. "The Lobart family, the one you mentioned before," he said hoarsely. "They’ll go against Ramsy’s holdings. It was because of that name... I think I had a premonition."

Micah’s breath came fast and ragged. His thoughts scattered, impossible to catch.

Darcy knew about the novel? How? Why?

No... it couldn’t be... some of the things he mentioned were so different from that book he had read in his dream.

What was happening?

Darcy was the protagonist of this novel. If this world were following the book’s will, why did his dream sound like a totally foreign story? Swapping the fact that Darcy would end up with Silas with him, the minor villain?

Why though? It didn’t make sense. Micah’s fingers dug into his palms, trying to feel the pain.

He wasn’t dreaming, right? No... it hurt. The pain was real.

Should he believe that everything he had thought was true until now was just nonsense? No. He had checked it. There were many things that happened in the real world. Like that Alpha App, like Archie gaming account, Leo’s manager’s name, Aidan’s trap for him... Darcy’s address, his switch with him, and his mother’s illness.

Silas’s obsession with Darcy, using every means to trap him, those business deals mentioned in the book he had used to get close to Aidan... how could these details be correct but others not?

How could everything suddenly be wrong?

Leo had really been Darcy’s childhood neighbour. That wasn’t made up.

Not to mention the Lobart family’s involvement in Ramsy’s downfall. Flora needed a stem cell transplant for her condition getting better. But dying? That was not mentioned in the novel.

It was Micah who was supposed to pass away, not Flora.

What was this? Why did Darcy’s version sound so wrong?

Micah’s head throbbed violently, unable to process everything.

And what was with Clyde’s reaction? His eyes flickered to the blond man who stood stiffly beside the bed, expression startled.

He wasn’t in the novel. Micah pointed out to himself.

Not even a mention of him existed. Just some vague description about the Du Pont patriarch. The author had written more about Dean, a minor background character, than about Clyde.

So, why did he act like he knew something? Why was he against Darcy talking? Why was he so desperate to shut him up?

What Darcy meant he was killed along with Clyde? No! That was a lie, right? Even the thought made his heart ache. That was not possible.

Micah clutched his head. He was scared, confused, and agitated.

He didn’t know what was happening anymore, what to believe, what was truth, and what was a lie?

He stumbled back a step away from the bed. His vision blurred for a second before focusing again.

He was lost. The world he thought he understood, the boundaries between fiction and reality were shattering in front of him.

And both men before him looked like strangers.

His body swayed, losing his balance.

"Micah!" Clyde called out, his voice filled with alarm.

"No... Micah..." Darcy’s voice came next, panicked and trembling.

But Micah couldn’t focus on either of them. He felt cornered, as if the walls were closing on him. Everything was tilting backward.

Warm arms caught him before he could fall, pulling him against a broad chest. The familiar scent of sandalwood filled his senses, but it could not drive away the terror in his chest.

Everything turned dim.

*****

Clyde tightened his hold around the silver-haired young man. "Micah! Hey... Micah!" He patted his cheek lightly, panic flickering across his face. The boy’s eyes stayed closed, his breathing shallow. He barked at Darcy. "Call the doctor right now!"

Darcy jolted out of his stupor and scrambled to the side table, pressing the button several times.

Moments later, a nurse came running. Seeing Micah unconscious, she quickly paged the resident doctor. This room had been upgraded to a much higher regular VIP, the people staying here she could not offend.

After the doctor checked Micah, assuring them he would wake up soon and it was not something serious, just exhaustion and stress, Clyde and Darcy breathed in relief.

When the medical staff finally left, the silence that followed felt suffocating.

Clyde sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a stray strand of silver hair from Micah’s face. His eyes softened for a brief second, then hardened again as he turned to Darcy. "Didn’t I tell you to stay put? Not to hurt him? Look at what you have done!" he whispered.

Darcy dragged a trembling hand down his sweaty face. "I didn’t mean to... I was scared, okay? I thought he would be in danger."

Clyde pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are the centre of danger!" he hissed.

"No. I’m not," Darcy shot back, still voice low. "Did you even see that I pulled the trigger? It wasn’t me. That gun was not loaded. I would never hurt Micah, and you know it."

Clyde paused. Truth be told, he couldn’t remember everything from his first life. Only fragments, brief flashes of the warehouse, the sound of a gun clicking, the heat of blood and fire. Everything else from his first life was blank.

Clyde took a deep breath. "I don’t trust you," he shot back.

Darcy’s expression twisted in pain. "If I wanted to hurt him, I would have done it already," he said quietly. "I don’t want to lose my life again in vain. And worse, let someone else profit from it."

Clyde looked at Micah’s peaceful face, eyes narrowing. "When did you remember the past?"

"It was at that villa. Right after you left." Darcy replied. "I woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Then the memories came rushing back into my head."

Darcy looked at his hands, his voice hoarse. "I couldn’t believe I was alive again. Then, an even more shocking thought hit me. That I was in love with Micah... that foolish young master... so I snapped."

Darcy let out a mocking laugh. "I treated him harshly. I don’t know what he had thought, how he felt... but he never once talked back, got angry, or threw a tantrum. I pushed him away, yet he stayed, cared for me, and defended me."

Darcy buried his face in his palms. His voice turned muffled. "Now that I know there is a possibility that he had been innocent in my last life, I feel awful. I feel ashamed."

"That’s why you rushed to tell him about the past?" Clyde asked dryly.

"Yes and no," Darcy said, lowering his hands. His black eyes had turned red. "I am scared. Terrified to lose my mum and sister again. Of Micah falling into the trap. Of being used myself. But the reason I included Micah, the reason I told him was because I heard your conversation."

Clyde’s expression darkened. "Are you still thinking you have a chance?"

Darcy turned his head, staring at those cold pale blue eyes. "Perhaps. I don’t know what I want anymore..."

Author’s note:

Sorry guys, I’m a bit sick. 🤧🤧🤧updates will likely be one Chapter a day for a while!