From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 258: A Meal for Monsters

Chapter 258: A Meal for Monsters

Content Warning:

This Chapter contains graphic descriptions of trauma, emotional abuse, sexual violence ( referenced), suicide, and mass poisoning. Themes of manipulation, revenge, and self-loathing are explored in detail. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

PS: The following Chapter continues in a similar tone, with emotionally intense and potentially triggering content.

Hot...

It was hot... Not just the air, not just the room, but deep inside his chest, something burned like a wildfire spreading through, twisting his insides. And yet, even this scorching, suffocating heat couldn’t mask the real pain in his heart.

He tasted metal at the back of his throat. But he swallowed. It wasn’t time. A little more... he needed to wait a bit more...

He dropped his gaze to the plate full of food. His mind wandered to the last week...

To the time when he learned about the truth.

It was like any other day, he was busy preparing the meal when the front door rang.

He had opened the door carelessly, not knowing that in that moment his happy life would end.

Or the life he thought was happy...

There, on the other side, stood a blond man, stiff and motionless. The look he gave him was filled with pure coldness.

His heart skipped a beat. He knew in an instant that the appearance of this man would be nothing but bad news.

And of course, he had guessed right.

The man handed him a file without a word.

He, as clueless as always, had opened it.

And that was it. The doors to hell had been opened wide in front of his eyes.

Those monsters...

He gasped, staggering back a step, his fingers clutching the edge of the door for support. His breath came shallow. His lips trembled.

Monsters... no, people. People he once loved... or he thought he did. The one who kissed his face; whispered sweet nothings against his skin. The ones he had trusted with the most vulnerable moments, who had seen him at the lowest and claimed they wanted to help him back up. He had lain beside them. Offered himself willingly. Given everything. His body. His heart. His trust. His future.

And he thought they had wanted him, too. That they had struggled to love him, fought to be with him. He thought their pain meant something. He believed foolishly that their sacrifices were real.

What a beautiful, pathetic fantasy he had built for himself.

It was all a lie.

A disgusting, sickening lie wrapped in soft smiles, sweet temptation, and warm hands dripping with cruelty.

The devil had whispered gently, seductively, and he had leaned in...

He clenched his fists, arms trembling.

He couldn’t believe it. He wanted to scream, to punch a wall, to claw at his own skin just to get rid of the shame. The shame of believing them. Of falling for their traps. Of not knowing the truth sooner.

He had once thought nothing could hurt more than discovering he was switched at birth. That the people he thought were his parents weren’t. That his life belonged to someone else. He thought nothing could turn his life upside down like that. But that was nothing compared to this. That was child’s play.

Ten years...

Ten years of being deceived. Of smiling through it. Of bending, breaking, bleeding...

For ten years, he had been played like a fool...

The hate twisted in every inch of his body, boiling, ready to launch out, burning everyone and everything.

How could he be so blind?

How could he love the one who had kidnapped him? Raped him? Broken him? The one who exploited him? The one who saw him as a replacement? The one who just stood by and saw others ruin him?

He lifted his gaze slowly, away from those papers. He met those blank, pale blue eyes. Vacant. Soulless. Watching. The lack of emotion in them ran a chill down his spine.

The man hadn’t uttered a word to him. Just handed a stack of papers, pictures, dates...

He just hadn’t handed him a stack of paper. No. They were his execution order. It was like a death sentence.

The man just watched him without a change in his expression, then turned and left his house. Leaving him alone with guilt heavier than anything he had experienced.

But that was not the end of the nightmare. A swarm of relatives rushed into his house. Faces twisted with anger, voices shrill with blame. Accusing him. Cursing him. Calling him a jinx.

They all had received the same file. And pointed at him as the culprit.

But that was not the worst of it. Those monsters’ attitude, the dismissive act, the snarl thrown his way...and then losing their temper on him. Claiming that they had all been doing that for love. For him.

What a ridiculous reason.

He didn’t fight with them. No, instead he behaved submissively. The way they always liked it.

He was waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Right time to strike.

He had learned his lessons. He wasn’t the same foolish boy anymore. He wasn’t blind. Not anymore.

He had a plan.

For the grand finale, he even invited that man, the one who had given him the truth.

He cooked a lavish meal, the kind they liked.

He smiled at their praise. Laughed at their jokes. Topped off their glasses, served them more food. Even teasing them.

A perfect host. A perfect puppet. A perfect lover.

Then it began, music to his ears.

Coughing. Clattering forks. Hands clawing at throats.

And bodies falling to the ground. One by one.

Their wide, horrified eyes. Their gasping disbelief. It thrilled him more than he wanted to admit.

He laughed. Loud. Sharp. Hollow.

He let the blood drip from his chin. He didn’t need to suppress blood anymore. The pain. The laughter. The hatred. The madness bubbling up inside.

He glanced toward the shadow. Where the man stood.

"I did get revenge... for him...finally," he said, his eyes watering. "So why am I not happy? Why does it still hurt so much?" his voice cracked.

His knees gave out, and he dropped to the floor, breathing shallow, arms limp. He coughed up blood. Like them. He had eaten the same poisoned food.

Because he was the biggest culprit of all. He was the one who had caused him the pain.

The boy who should have lived a better life. The brother who should have smiled more.

He was the one who had taken that away. He was the root of it.

And so, he offered his life, the only payment he had left.

From the very first time he had seen him, he had felt something tender. The boy had been so easily embarrassed, so open book that he was cute. He liked the idea of calling him ’little brother.’

And then he ruined him.

It hurt like hell knowing he was the one who ruined his life.

How had it come to this? Where in the world had he lost his sanity? To not see the reality in front of him? To believe those ridiculous lies?

Ten years...

How much had he been hurt? And what was his ending?

Dying alone... in a shabby place.

He clenched his stomach, body curling in on itself.

He had been too kind. Too merciful. They didn’t deserve a quick death. They deserved to rot.

He coughed up blood again. His consciousness was slipping, his limbs turning heavy. He turned his head slightly and stared at the expressionless man in the shadow.

Unmoving. Unflinching. Not a hint of a smile.

He closed his eyes.

He had just one wish. That the boy would be happy in his next life.