Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 30: Chapter 30

It didn't take long for the call to connect, and Finn's voice came through. "Madam, it's Finn. I was just about to call you. Mr. Madden's had too much to drink. I'm driving him home now, but you might want to prepare some sobering soup for him."
I froze for a moment, confused. It wasn't even dark yet, and Quinn was drunk—again?
Before I could ask anything, Finn quickly ended the call, citing the need to focus on driving.
After hesitating for a moment, I decided to head home. Some things were better said face-to-face.
On my way back, I stopped by the nearby supermarket to pick up ingredients for the soup. As soon as I got home, I went straight to the kitchen to get started.
Just as I finished cooking, I heard the sound of a car pulling into the garage.
Not long after, Finn came through the door, practically dragging Quinn, who was completely wasted, into the living room.
The strong smell of alcohol hit me instantly. Quinn's face and neck were flushed a deep red, and I couldn't stop myself from frowning. "How much did he drink?"
Quinn wasn't a lightweight—I could count on one hand the number of times I'd seen him drunk in our three years of marriage.
But over the past six months, it had become a recurring problem, each episode worse than the last.
"I'm not sure," Finn said awkwardly, shaking his head. "He went to Primrose Winery by himself. The housekeeper told me he locked himself in the wine cellar all day. When they finally checked on him, he was completely out of it, so they called me."
Primrose Winery was one of the Madden family's properties, known for its extensive collection of fine wines.
In the bedroom, Finn laid Quinn down on the bed.
Even in his drunken state, Quinn opened his mouth, clearly parched.
I went to the kitchen and brought back the soup. Handing the bowl to Finn, I asked him to prop up Quinn's head so I could help him drink it.
Quinn choked, drinking too fast. I quickly patted his back to help him catch his breath.
"Natalia..." he murmured suddenly, his voice low and raspy.
His eyes remained closed, but his usually perfect brows were knitted together in a pained expression.
So even saying my name caused him this much distress. How much did he really hate me, Quinn?
I let out a bitter laugh. "Well, this is rare. You're drunk out of your mind, and you still know who I am."
Finn placed Quinn back on the bed and straightened up. He looked at me thoughtfully before saying in a low voice, "On the drive over, he kept calling your name."
I froze, my heart skipping a beat before racing uncontrollably.
But I quickly snapped out of it, telling myself, He's drunk. Drunk people don't think straight. It doesn't mean anything.
I'd be an idiot to think Quinn was calling my name because he actually cared about me.
Finn excused himself, mentioning work that needed his attention, and left the villa.
The smell of alcohol on Quinn was overwhelming, completely masking the scent of the room's incense.
I wasn't strong enough to bathe him, but I couldn't leave him like this for the night either. Resigned, I grabbed a set of pajamas from the closet, planning to change him before letting him sleep.
Whether it was the soup or just exhaustion, Quinn had quieted down significantly.
I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a chest sculpted with defined muscles and a perfectly toned waistline that included a prominent Adonis belt.
There was no denying it—Quinn was a walking masterpiece.
If he weren't born into the Madden family's wealth, he could've easily made it as a celebrity, captivating droves of adoring female fans.
Lost in my thoughts, I finished removing his shirt and pants. Just as I reached for the pajamas, something tightened around my waist.
Quinn's strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me close. Before I could react, he flipped us over, pinning me beneath him.