The Boyfriend Who Faked a Business Trip Lives Next Door with the Fake Heiress Chapter 05

The Boyfriend Who Faked a Business Trip Lives Next Door with the Fake Heiress Chapter 05

Donovan POV

He’d bought it. A ring you could only buy once in a lifetime.

And it was Clara’s size.

He liked her.

No. He loved her.

Donovan covered his face. Made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

His heart was pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

He couldn’t hide it anymore. Couldn’t pretend.

But he’d lied to her for five years.

Five years of watching her struggle.

Five

years of helping the woman she hated most mess with her head.

Then the screaming started.

“Fire! The shantytown’s on fire!”

Donovan’s eyes flew open. He scrambled downstairs, still clutching the ring.

Across the street. Clara’s place. Up in flames.

“Donovan, don’t go in there!”

“Are you insane?! You’re not actually going in for her?!”

“Call 911! Where’s the damn fire department?!”

Donovan didn’t hear any of it. He shoved past everyone and ran.

The place was tiny. He spotted Clara immediately, curled up on the floor like a cat trying to stay

warm.

Thank God—the fire had caught the sheet and spread toward the other side of the bed. She wasn’t burned.

“Clara, I’ve got you.” He scooped her up and ran for the door.

She was unconscious, but her chest was still moving.

He was almost out when Violet grabbed a bottle from someone and smashed it against the

doorframe. Then she kicked the door shut.

Her face was twisted. Ugly. “Donovan! If you’re choosing her, then you can burn in there together!”

The alcohol caught. The wooden door went up in seconds. Flames drove Donovan back a step.

Outside, the crowd gasped. No one moved to open the door. Violet’s word was law.

“Anyone who opens that door is my enemy. And I’ve got a long memory.”

Donovan’s stomach dropped.

He looked down at Clara. Her breathing was getting shallow.

Negotiating with them would take too long. Clara didn’t have time.

Another minute and she’d die from smoke inhalation.

“Clara, hold on. I’m getting you out.”

He gripped her tighter, turned his back to the door, and slammed into it.

The heat. The pain.

Flames caught the back of his shirt instantly. The door didn’t give-but it loosened.

He gritted his teeth and hit it again. And again.

It finally gave. He stumbled through and fell.

The fall snuffed the fire on his back. Good enough.

Violet lost it when she saw him carrying Clara out. She flew at him, scratching, screaming.

“Donovan! Why didn’t you just die in there with her?!”

“Stop playing hero! She’s never going to forgive you!”

“She’ll always know you only wanted her because I told you to!”

Donovan didn’t bother dodging. He took the hits, but he held Clara tight. Protected her.

The crowd turned on Violet in a second. Someone tackled her. Held her down.

The great Lady Gray, dress ruined, hair a mess, shrieking like a lunatic.

“Donovan! I hope you never get her!”

“Clara, who the hell do you think you are?! I’m the Gray heiress! Even if you’re the real one, you’ll never be half of what I am!”

Someone gagged her with whatever was handy.

“Donovan, she’s lost her mind! I’ll handle her!”

Violet’s eyes went wide. Muffled screams.

Donovan didn’t care. He only saw Clara.

He held her hand. His voice cracked.

“Clara, wake up. Look at me. Don’t go to sleep…”

“Please don’t die. I’ll do anything. Anything.”

“This is all my fault. Hit me, yell at me, I don’t care. Just don’t leave me…”

In the distance: sirens.

Donovan’s eyes lit up. He ran toward the sound, Clara in his arms.

“Over here! Help! Save her!”

Chaos. Then a doctor’s voice: “She’s stable.”

Donovan finally let himself breathe.

Then his back reminded him it was on fire a minute ago,

Everything went black.