Chapter 92: On The Verge of Losing His Sanity

Chapter 92: On The Verge of Losing His Sanity

His brother could hold up several bottles of alcohol. How had this managed to make him pass out.

That was not even important. Why was he cuddling a huge bottle of alcohol instead of a woman?

“Dude?” George nudged the guy once more. But hell! He was too drunk to come back to his senses.

There were several more bottles laying on the floor. They were all similar to the one in his hand. And George wondered. Where in the world did his brother get his hands on these centuries old wines.

“Holy hell!” He cursed out loud and left the drunk guy to examine one of the bottles with expanded pupils. Did his brother have these all along?

Where in the freaking hell did he hide them? How come he was only seeing them now?

“Hey, Buddy.” He nudged the drunk guy again. However, Greg only stared at him through half-closed eyes and mumbled something incoherent.

He danced his fingers on the air as if writing something.

George cursed again and dropped the bottle. He would return to the wines later.

His brother was clearly knocked out of his senses, and the damned guy needed help. What in the world had made him drown himself in these strong alcohols?

Shit! George wouldn’t be surprised if these wines sent his brother into a coma. The damn things were too strong even for someone that was completely immune to intoxicants as his brother.

He took off his suit’s jacket and placed it on another couch. After that, he returned to his brother and tried to help him up.

“Get a grip, Dude!” He scolded as he attempted to help him up.

Greg let out a groan and pushed him aside. “Get the hell out of here,” he said in a drunk voice.

The heck! As if he would. George ignored him and helped him sit up on the sofa.

Greg struggled again, and Damnit! How could he still have his strength even when drunk.

“Wait until I record this,” George said in order to make him behave. In fact, it would be great to record it now and taunt his brother with it later. But hell! The guy was giving him a hard time getting a grip of even himself.

“I said get out. Get the hell out of my life!?” Greg pushed him away and the next thing George knew, a bottle was flying in his direction.

He quickly doged it and the bottle ended up shattering against the wall.

“Like seriously!?” George exclaimed and stared at the drunk guy in astonishment.

Greg’s eyes were furious now and he kept kicking and punching the air, commanding whoever it was, to get out of his life.

George stepped to the side and watched in utter shock..

His brother out of control, this was definitely a first. What exactly had happened? And who was he asking to get out of his life?

George was certain he was reffering to someone else. Had something ticked him off at work? It wouldn’t be his new assistant, would it?

George shook his head. That would be impossible. Mrs. Brick or whatever she was called— her actions would be too inconsiderate to affect his brother’s mood.

Knowing that standing there while doing nothing and watching his brother lose control would not solve anything, George folded the sleeves of his shirt and headed to the kitchen.

He opened the fridge and brought out a bottle of chilled water.

When he returned to the living room, his brother was dawning another wine’s bottle.

He let out another curse and snatched the bottle from him. And before another punch could fly to his beautiful face, he stepped to the side and emptied the whole bottle of water on his brother’s face.

“Shit! You’re dead.” Greg shivered from the cold and instantly returned to his senses. His eyes roamed over his wet clothes and his went dark.

“At least, you’re now kicking.” George held up his hands in a peaceful gesture and took a step back.

Greg glowered at him and wrapped both hands around himself. He rose to his feet and staggered, obviously still intoxicated.

“Geez, you look miserable, Dude.” George clicked his tongue. “You might want to up and freshen up.”

Greg ran a hand through his wet air and held the couch for support. After another glare in George’s direction, he staggered upstairs and kept on mumbling some incoherent words.

George’s eyes lingered on his brother’s retreating figure. This was too hard to believe. His eyes wandered around the house again. Where was the beauty?

It didn’t have something to do with her, did it?

He crouched down to have a look at one of the wine’s bottles again. These things cost millions. Where in the universe did his brother find these?

Did he go to a wine auntion behind his back?

‘Urgh’ he had to find out where he was hiding them. His brother must posses more of these wines.

He took of the lid of one of the bottle and sniffed the wine. Hell! The damn thing was good.

A taste wouldn’t hurt.

So he took one sip. And when the liquid hit his tongue, his eyes went wide.

What in the freaking planets!? This was a great wine.

And before George knew it, he was taking several sips. Damnit! This was too good.

But he paused. What the hell was he doing?

His vision was getting blurred already. He needed to keep a clear head. He had more important things to do at the moment.

Like making sure his brother wasn’t on the verge of losing his sanity. And also ensuring that the miserable guy didn’t go back to sleeping upstairs.

His body shuddered as the wine coarsed through his system and he put back the cap. Then he stood up with the empty bottle of water and walked back to the kitchen with it.