CHAPTER 339: MICAH VS. THE NEPHEW FROM HELL

Micah didn’t stop dragging Emile until they burst out of the dormitory doors. The evening air hit them, cooler than inside, carrying the faint scent of grass and stone dust from the countryside. He released Emile’s wrist with a shove, chest rising and falling quickly.

"Are you nuts?" he snapped, voice sharp with panic.

Emile took a step back, immediately rubbing at his mouth with a wince. His glare shot daggers. "You are the one to talk! Ah, damn, my face hurts. What the hell is with your strength? Are you a gorilla?"

Micah ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps as though the ground itself was unstable. "Damn it." His voice lowered, laced with frustration. "Of all people, why the hell do you have to be his nephew?"

Emile gave a slow, mocking gasp, covering his heart as though pierced by betrayal. "Why? So you can swim in your sea of pretty fish without worry? You damn playboy!" He clutched his chest, staggering back dramatically. "Oh, gosh, my poor uncle. He probably thought you were a sweet innocent boy, fell in love for the first time, having no idea you are the famous Don Juan ..." His voice broke theatrically, eyes shimmering as if tears would fall.

Micah rolled his eyes. "Ugh! You really should pursue acting! Anyone who sees you would actually think you care about your uncle!" He folded his arms, his lips curled into a snicker.

Emile ran a hand through his chestnut wavy hair and grinned. "What do you know? We are really close."

"Yeah. I noticed." Micah leaned in with a smirk, lowering his voice. "You barely said two words to him at the condo!"

"That’s because he doesn’t like chatty people!" Emile shot back, his chin sticking out stubbornly.

"He is fine with me, though," Micah said smugly.

Emile’s eyes widened. "Hah! So now you are throwing at my face you are special!" he jabbed a finger at Micah’s chest, eyes narrowing.

"Are you jealous?" Micah raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with mock concern. "Don’t be. He is a pain in the ass, lecturing me nonstop. Do this, not that; it never ends. You are better off without it." He brushed invisible dust from his sleeve, looking more smug.

Emile gasped like Micah had spat blasphemy. "I should tell my uncle how you really think of him."

"Sure. Go ahead and try." Micah flashed a daring smile. "He is head over heels for me anyway. He won’t give a damn about it."

"Pah!" Emile smacked Micah’s shoulder hard. "I knew it! He likes you, not Asena!"

Micah froze, caught off guard. His smirk faltered. He huffed sharply and turned his head away, angry at himself for slipping, for letting that smugness loosen his damn tongue. He had thought that being caught by them red-handed in the Du Pont mansion had made his relationship with Clyde, their uncle, obvious. He never imagined that Emile still believed Asena’s matter was ongoing.

"Tsk. Who even is this Asena? Why does everyone keep throwing that name at me?" he said, forcing his voice steady, pretending not to know anything about Asena.

"Really? So why did you say you were her boyfriend?" Emile asked.

Micah’s chest tightened, panic flashing in his eyes. Shit! How the hell did Emile know about what he said to that security guard? Did he hear him?

"What boyfriend? Who said that? They are just spewing nonsense." Micah scoffed, full of confidence.

"Well, I’ve never seen her. But Uncle never denied knowing this girl. Strange. RIGHT?" Emile fell into thought, tapping on his chin.

Micah’s heart skipped a beat. Oh crap. What if he suspected something? What if he figured out the truth, that he was Asena? That he was crossdressing? A cold shiver ran down his spine.

Micah scrambled for a way out, for anything that could divert the conversation.

"Anyway." He waved a hand too quickly. "Just don’t go blabbering to your uncle about it. Got it? Those two always want to compete with each other, and I got caught in the damn crossfire."

Emile’s mouth dropped open. "Huh! Like hell I believe that! It’s obvious you are leading them on." Emile argued, totally forgetting about Asena. "Otherwise, why does the whole gaming community say so? Helen of Troy? Huh?"

"First of all, don’t ever call me that. And second of all, what leading on? I can’t stand that grizzly, green-eyed bear captain!" Micah yelled, his fists clenching at his sides, face flushing red. "I only played because I promised him and..."

He stopped short, words catching in his throat. He couldn’t say because Darcy wanted to play too. He bit his lips, teeth sinking into flesh.

"Oh? So then what about the other one??" Emile asked, but his question was drawn in another voice.

"Captain, since when have you become grizzly?" Zian’s laughter rang out, sharp and teasing.

Micah stiffened like someone had poured cold water over his head. He turned his head slowly.

There they were, Zian doubled over with laughter, and Archie standing beside him, holding a container. His grip had tightened visibly on the handle, knuckles pale, but his expression remained unreadable, calm to the point of suffocation.

"Hey," Archie said, his voice even and steady.

Micah’s throat closed. His mind spiralled into chaos. How much did they hear? Did they hear about Clyde too?

Micah gave a short nod. Emile stepped closer, eyeing the newcomers curiously. "Hello," he said politely, then leaned toward Micah, covering his mouth with his hand. "Who are they? What did he mean by grizzly bear you mentioned?" he whispered.

Micah’s lips twitched. He shot him a glare before muttering back. "He’s one of the two fish you accused me of raising."

"Ah! I get it." Realisation dawned on Emile’s face. "Oh man, your luck sucks," he said, stifling a laugh.

"Stay out of it," Micah hissed through gritted teeth. Then he turned toward Archie. "Are you here for your brother?" he said calmly, like he wasn’t the one who compared Archie to a huge bear.

Archie’s gaze stopped on Emile for a second before returning to Micah. "Yeah. My mum made some fresh biscotti. Russell likes them," he half-lied.

Truthfully, he had brought them for both Russell and Micah, hearing he liked sweets. Now, after hearing Micah’s disdain for himself, the thought of admitting it terrified him. What if he threw them away in front of everyone?

He felt frustrated and disappointed. He even picked out a birthday gift for Micah. Yet, every fibre of his body feared the same thing: rejection.