The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1303

Alexander gave a faint nod and let his eyes slip shut once more, his chest barely rising and falling.

Danielle didn't dare move an inch. She remained kneeling on the bathroom tiles, clinging to his hand like it was her only lifeline.

A few agonizing minutes later, a soft knock echoed from the front door.

Danielle scrambled to her feet and sprinted to the entryway. She threw open the door to find Rebecca standing on the porch, a medical bag slung over her shoulder and a grim expression on her face.

"Where is he?" Rebecca asked, keeping her voice strictly to a whisper.

"In the master bathroom. He regained consciousness for a minute, but he passed out again."

Danielle ushered her inside, pushing the door shut behind her. "Keep your voice down. The kids are asleep."

Rebecca gave a curt nod and strode purposefully down the hall.

She dropped to her knees beside Alexander and immediately set to work. She checked his pulse, peeled back his eyelids to check his pupils, and listened to his breathing, her frown deepening with every passing second.

Danielle stood rigidly in the doorway, too terrified to even take a full breath. She watched Rebecca's every micro-expression, bracing herself for the worst.

After what felt like an eternity, Rebecca rocked back on her heels and stood up. She shot Danielle a meaningful look and jerked her head toward the living room.

Danielle's stomach plummeted, but she forced her panic down and followed the doctor out into the living area.

"It's not good, Danielle."

Rebecca's voice was deadly serious. "His body is entirely run down from chronic overwork and severe mental stress. He just experienced acute stress syncope."

"Combine that with the residual trauma from his old injuries, and his immune system is completely shot. If he keeps pushing himself like this, the consequences are going to be catastrophic."

Danielle's knees buckled. She swayed heavily, barely catching herself on the arm of the sofa.

She gripped the upholstery to keep herself upright. "What do we do? How do we fix this?"

"I'm going to give him an injection to stabilize his vitals and bring his fever down. I'll leave some prescriptions, too."

Rebecca unzipped her medical bag and swiftly prepared a syringe. "But this is just a band-aid. It doesn't fix the underlying problem."

"Danielle, he needs rest. I'm talking absolute, uninterrupted bed rest."

"No stressful phone calls, no late-night meetings, zero pressure. If he doesn't stop, his heart is simply going to give out."

The brutal honesty hit Danielle like a physical blow, stealing the air from her lungs.

Rest? Complete rest?

How on earth was that supposed to happen right now?

The Jamison family threat was neutralized, but the foreign operatives were still circling. Harold's loyalists were still hiding in the woodwork, Ninesky's massive international merger was in its final stages, and the patriarch required constant maneuvering.

Every single one of those crisis points relied entirely on Alexander's command.

Yet, if he kept going, it was going to kill him.

Danielle squeezed her eyes shut.

"I understand."

"Leave the medication. I'll take over his care from here."

"Thank you for coming, Rebecca."

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