The Cat-Like Miss Preston: Mr. CEO begs for Reconciliation!-Chapter 125: Regaining Consciousness

Donovan Xavier heard the voice and looked up. A drop of sweat slid from the corner of his forehead and hit the ground.

Is... is that his Chloe?

He felt dizzy and disoriented, his mind hazy.

No, Grandpa called her away. It can’t be her!

KNOCK KNOCK.

The door was knocked on softly again.

Donovan felt as though his entire body was on fire. The heat was unbearable. He clenched his hands into tight fists and shut his eyes, desperately trying to endure.

"Don’t come in!" he roared at the door.

He tried to get up but had no strength, collapsing to the ground. It was hot, far too hot. He forcefully ripped off his tie, stripped off his suit jacket, and tore open his shirt collar. The cool air that rushed in made him feel slightly better.

CLICK—

Suddenly, the door was pushed open.

Donovan heard it. A furious blush spread across his neck as he snarled, "Didn’t I tell you not to come in? Get out!"

Rosalind Rowan was taken aback, standing frozen for a few seconds before deciding to enter anyway.

"Donovan..." she called softly.

Donovan propped himself up with a hand on the floor. Veins bulged on his arms and his forehead was covered in sweat as he forcibly suppressed the agitation racking his body. He looked up. "What are you doing here? Get out!"

Rosalind looked at him, her eyes slightly red, as she reached out and quietly closed the door. She drew closer, step by step.

Donovan’s dark eyes were cold. He struggled to his feet, his gaze filled with murderous intent. "I told you to get out!"

Pretending not to hear, Rosalind walked over and gingerly touched his sleeve. "Donovan, you’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you?"

Donovan shoved her away. "Get out! Don’t touch me!"

He was feverish and burning up, his steps unsteady. He nearly fell to the ground again.

Rosalind rushed forward to support him.

Donovan glared at her, his gaze icy and filled with disgust.

Rosalind bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes. "Don... Donovan, please don’t look at me like that."

"I know you’re in pain. I... I can help you." As she spoke, she stepped forward again.

Donovan took two steps back, his back hitting the cool wall. He fought to stay conscious, his voice frigid. "Did you drug me?"

He wasn’t a fool. Something was terribly wrong with his body; someone had to have done something to him. It was probably in the tea he drank.

Rosalind shook her head. "No... it wasn’t me."

"If it wasn’t you, then how did you know to come here at this exact moment?" he countered. He processed it for a few seconds before asking, "Was it Grandpa?"

Rosalind fell silent.

The heat in Donovan’s body intensified. He endured it for a moment, then let out a soft, cold chuckle. He was utterly disgusted. He’d never dreamed that his own grandfather would resort to such a scheme.

Donovan’s eyes swept over the woman before him. Only then did he notice her attire. She was wearing an apricot cheongsam, with light makeup and her hair swept to one side. She was the very picture of quiet, classic elegance.

Chloe Preston had always been fond of this style. In his current state of confusion, it was dangerously easy to mistake this woman for her.

Rosalind stepped closer until she was right in front of him, her clear eyes staring directly into his. "Donovan, I really like you. I..."

Before she could finish, Donovan cut her off, his voice like a poisoned blade. "Like me? Then why did you conspire with that old man against me! I know what you’re after, and I despise being manipulated!

"Do you think you have a chance just because I’m drugged? That I’ll lose control and touch you? Or are you trying to create a misunderstanding so Chloe Preston will leave me?"

"I... I..." Rosalind’s eyes were red and brimming with tears, a sight designed to arouse pity.

Donovan looked at her coldly, his aura both feverish and grim. He sneered, "You’re dressed very much like her, I’ll admit. But even if my mind were completely gone, I would never mistake you for her.

"Get out!"

But Rosalind wasn’t about to give up. This might be her last chance. She grabbed his arms with both hands, her voice breaking into a pleading sob. "Donovan, I’m begging you, just look at me, please? I’m no worse than Chloe Preston! Do you really think she loves you? I love you more than she ever could!

"In this entire world, I’m the one who loves you most. Donovan, please don’t reject me, please?"

Donovan shook her hands off. Leaning against the wall, he took a staggering step forward, his voice low. "But she’s the only one I love."

He was struggling to endure. A second later, he couldn’t support himself any longer and collapsed to his knees. The fall scraped his hands, but the slight pain was nothing compared to the heat consuming him. The drug was peaking, and his consciousness began to scatter.

Chloe... he missed her so much...

Rosalind immediately rushed to his side and helped him up, asking nervously, "Donovan, are you okay? Are you hurt from the fall?"

Donovan’s head was spinning. He lifted his eyes and glanced at her.

In that instant, he saw Chloe Preston’s face.

"Chloe," he whispered, a hint of a joyful smile on his lips.

Rosalind froze for a second.

He’s mistaking me for her?

She pressed her lips together and reached out to touch his handsome face. "Darling, I’m Chloe, your Chloe..."

As long as she could have him, she didn’t care if he thought she was the other woman.

Wait... the voice is wrong.

Donovan frowned. He clenched his fist and shut his eyes, desperately trying to force himself back to clarity. The next moment, he shoved her hand away and staggered to his feet. "Get back! Stay away from me!"

He stumbled to the desk and fumbled for his phone. Sweat dripped onto the screen as he made a call.

The other end picked up instantly. "Hey, Donovan, what’s wrong?"

Hearing her voice, Donovan’s own grew weak, laced with a note of desperate helplessness. "Baby, come back. I’m about to lose it."

"Huh? What happened?" Chloe Preston’s voice still sounded cheerful over the phone.

"Baby, I..."

Before Donovan could say another word, Rosalind snatched the phone from his hand and slammed it violently onto the floor.

"You’re crazy!" he burst out.

Rosalind started crying. "Donovan, can you just stop thinking about her?"

She reached for the closures of her dress.

Donovan’s eyes were like ice. He averted his gaze. "Show some self-respect."

"Rosalind Rowan, acting like this only makes me feel utterly disgusted!"

Her hand froze.

A fruit knife lay on the table. Donovan grabbed it and, without a second thought, sliced a gash into his own forearm.

Blood welled up instantly. The sharp pain cleared his mind.

As he raised the knife to cut himself again, Rosalind lunged for it. "Donovan, you can’t do this!"

In the ensuing struggle, the tip of the blade pierced his side, between his ribs. Instantly, blood gushed from the wound, and a pain so intense it felt like it was tearing him apart ripped through him.

Donovan Xavier collapsed.