I exhaled. Would Inna even agree to see him after everything? “I arranged the meeting with Iker. Before that, we move on to Zachary. I sent the next approach to your email.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Make sure—” The office door swung open before I finished.
A maid stepped inside with her head lowered. Her breathing came too fast, her hands pressed tightly together as if she expected punishment for interrupting.
“Sir.” She swallowed hard. “Your wife. She passed out. I didn’t know she was drinking. I found her and I—”
I was already moving. “Where?”
“Upstairs, sir.”
I took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor and pushed through the crowd gathered in the sitting area. Caitlin immediately got up from the floor where she had been holding Inna. Four empty whiskey bottles were scattered nearby.
Shit.
I dropped to my knees beside her and lifted her head carefully. “Inna.” Her face had gone pale beneath the sweat clinging to her skin. Dried tear tracks marked both cheeks. “Inna.”
“I’ve called the doctor,” Grandma said somewhere behind me.
I slid my arms under Inna and carried her to the bedroom. Her body felt limp against my chest. I laid her on the bed and pushed the damp strands of hair away from her face.
“Tell the doctor to hurry.” I didn’t look toward the doorway when I said it.
I went into the bathroom, soaked a towel in cold water, and returned. She was burning. I pressed the towel against her forehead, then moved down her face and neck.
The doctor arrived minutes later and moved straight to the bed.
I stepped aside enough to let him work while keeping my eyes on Inna. Grandma entered quietly after him and stayed near the foot of the bed, watching everything in silence for once.
I should have stayed with her. The thought kept circling through my head like a punishment. While I sat downstairs building plans and discussing operations, she was up here drinking herself unconscious alone. Two hours away from her were enough for disaster.
The doctor reached for the oxygen mask, and something cold settled low in my chest. I moved closer.
“So?” I asked.
He continued working while he spoke. “She drank heavily on an empty stomach. The alcohol irritated the stomach lining, and combined with the quantity consumed, it suppressed the central nervous system. The pain likely triggered the collapse. Right now, the alcohol is what’s keeping her unconscious.”
“How bad is it?”
“Her vitals should stabilize.” He adjusted the IV line carefully. “The immediate concern is metabolism. With the amount she consumed, I’d expect deep sedation for at least six to ten hours, possibly longer depending on her metabolism. I’ve managed the dehydration and pain response. We monitor from here and watch for complications like vomiting, blood sugar drops,respiratory issues, anything secondary that develops.”
I looked back at Inna while he spoke. I already knew this. Her body couldn’t tolerate alcohol because of the gastritis. She knew it too. Which meant she drank because whatever was in her head felt worse than what the alcohol would do to her body.
“It’s good Anita found her sooner,” Grandma said quietly beside me. “I kept wondering why she wasn’t downstairs for breakfast.”
She drank up here deliberately. On a floor with limited access. Somewhere hidden enough that nobody would easily interrupt her.
And I kept a fully stocked bar in the same space. The drinks sat there, inviting enough that one couldn’t resist.
I walked back into the sitting area. The maids moved aside immediately when they saw my face. I looked at the bar, then at the nearest maid.
“Clear this bar.” I moved toward the shelves, grabbed one of the whiskey bottles, and hurled it across the room. “Get rid of everything. Now!”
Everyone moved faster. “Yes, sir.”
I picked up another empty bottle from the floor and stared at it. Most men couldn’t handle more than two glasses of that whiskey without feeling it. Inna drank four fucking bottles on an empty stomach.
