From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 748: Unspoken Urgency

Finally, the examination concluded. The doctor straightened, offering Ilyas a final few words before turning and making his way toward the door.

All eyes shifted toward him immediately.

As he stepped out into the corridor, Patric moved forward at once, his expression tense, his hands clasped together tightly as though bracing himself for whatever answer he was about to receive. "Well?" he asked, unable to fully conceal the urgency in his voice.

The doctor offered a reassuring expression. "It appears that the substance administered was a low-potency anesthetic," he explained calmly. "There are no indications of additional harmful compounds. His blood test results have returned negative across all critical markers."

A visible wave of relief passed through the group.

"After a period of rest and proper hydration," the doctor continued, "he should recover fully without any lasting complications."

What the doctor chose not to mention, however, was something far more delicate.

During the private portion of the examination, Ilyas had awkwardly, almost desperately, requested that a particular detail be kept confidential. He was dealing with an involuntary reaction due to the presence of an aphrodisiac, most likely a substance similar to Viagra, that had been administered alongside the anesthetic.

The discomfort and embarrassment associated with this condition were evident in the young man’s expression, and he had clearly been unwilling to have such a matter discussed in front of his family and acquaintances.

The doctor, understanding the sensitivity of the situation, had respected his request. After all, it was not a life-threatening concern. It was something that would resolve on its own with time. Mentioning it would only serve to humiliate the patient unnecessarily. And so, he omitted it entirely.

Patric let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as the tension that had been gripping him began to ease.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, his voice thick with emotion. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Jacob nodded in agreement, offering his own words of gratitude.

The doctor acknowledged them briefly before taking his leave, allowing the family a moment of privacy.

Micah, who had been listening intently, exhaled slowly before stepping forward.

He raised his hand and knocked lightly against the doorframe. "May I come in?" he asked.

Inside, Ilyas shifted slightly, his movements awkward as he adjusted the blanket over his lower body, ensuring that it remained securely in place.

"...Yes," he replied after a brief pause.

Micah entered first, his gaze immediately settling on Ilyas’s face. He studied him carefully. The faint flush across his cheeks. The slight pallor of his lips. The lingering confusion in his eyes. A knot formed in Micah’s throat.

"I am sorry," he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight of genuine regret. "I should have told you sooner. If you had known... perhaps this could have been avoided."

Ilyas shook his head almost immediately. "No," he said, his tone firm despite the lingering weakness in his body. "This was my own mistake. My own carelessness." He hesitated briefly before continuing. "I am grateful to you... and to Young Master Darcy. My brother told me what happened after I woke up."

His words were sincere. There was no trace of blame in them. And yet, that only made the situation feel heavier.

Micah swallowed, the discomfort within him growing. Seeing Ilyas like this, composed, restrained, trying to act as though nothing significant had occurred, felt strangely unsettling.

One by one, the others entered the room as well.

Patric moved immediately to Ilyas’s side, his hand lifting to gently rest against his younger brother’s head, his touch careful and affectionate. "Are you hungry?" he asked softly. "Or perhaps thirsty?"

Ilyas shook his head. "I am fine, older brother."

His calmness was... disorienting. There was no outburst. No visible anger. No breakdown.

He simply sat there, composed to an almost unnatural degree, as though he had already decided to suppress whatever emotions he might have been feeling.

Patric’s chest tightened painfully at the sight. This was his younger brother. The one he had practically raised himself.

There was nearly a decade between them, and in many ways, Patric had taken on the role of both guardian and protector throughout Ilyas’s life.

To see him like this, quiet, restrained, trying to appear unaffected, was far more painful than any display of distress would have been.

"Older brother," Ilyas said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Do you not have a flight to catch?"

Patric blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His gaze shifted instinctively toward Willow.

They had indeed been scheduled to travel, an important business engagement that had required significant preparation and effort.

Willow offered a small, reassuring smile. "There is no need for concern," she said calmly. "Chief Assistant Harper should remain here and take care of you."

Before Patric could respond, however, Ilyas shook his head firmly. "No," he said. "I am truly fine."

His gaze sharpened slightly, his tone gaining a hint of urgency.

"I have seen how much effort my brother has invested in this project. I don’t want him to miss something this important because of me."

Patric frowned. "That is not something you should be worrying about," he said immediately. "How could I possibly leave you in this condition?"

But Ilyas did not back down. "Why won’t you believe me?" he pressed. "The doctor has already stated that I only need to remain under observation. Do you not trust his judgment either?"

The tension between them began to rise.

What had started as a simple exchange quickly escalated into something more heated, more difficult to control.

Darcy, who had been standing quietly to the side, observing the interaction, finally stepped forward. "Chief Assistant Harper," he said calmly. "I can remain here with him. The Ramsy family... I mean, we’ll make sure he’s looked after."

Jacob, recognising the growing agitation in Ilyas, placed a steady hand on Patric’s shoulder.

"Do not upset him further," he murmured.

Patric hesitated. Then, reluctantly, he nodded. "...Very well," he said, though his expression remained conflicted.

He cast a pointed look toward Ilyas, clearly unwilling but ultimately conceding.

Meanwhile, Ilyas sat there, silently enduring. What no one realised was that his discomfort was rapidly intensifying. His body, still under the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac, was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. His thoughts were in disarray. His composure, though outwardly intact, was hanging by a thread. He needed them to leave.

All of them. Immediately.

Darcy seemed to sense the necessity of the situation. Without drawing attention to it, he stepped forward and began guiding the others toward the door.

"He needs rest," he said simply. "And a quiet environment." His gaze flickered briefly toward Ilyas. "It would be best if we handled that creep soon."

Willow and Jacob left.

Meanwhile, Micah had glanced at Darcy several times. Of course, Darcy had noticed his gaze since the moment they stepped inside the room. It seemed like it was time to talk to his worrywart brother.

He glanced back at Patric, who was still by the bed. "Chief Assistant Harper, I’ll grab some food for Ilyas, so you can go ahead with your trip with peace of mind."

Patric waved a hand and began to nag his younger brother, fussing over him, offering repeated instructions and reminders.

Micah followed Darcy toward the cafeteria, his thoughts still lingering on everything that had just transpired.