Back in Time: Unshackling From Love (Mikayla Davidson) novel Chapter 103

Chapter 103 

A coincidence like this was probably unlikely to happen again. 

When Jerome entered the bedroom, Mikayla was already asleep. 

There was a glass of water on the bedside table, and her phone was placed next to the pillow. 

Her face looked flushed from alcohol. 

She didn’t seem to be sleeping soundly. 

Her eyebrows were knitted tightly together, and her breath was reeking of alcohol. 

Seeing her in this sloppy state, coupled with her behavior tonight, Jerome couldn’t suppress the rage 

within him. 

He dragged Mikayla up from the bed and shouted, “Get up! Stop pretending you’re sleeping!” 

Mikayla opened her eyes dazedly and looked confused. 

She stared at Jerome for a while, then she pouted and tears started streaming down her face. 

Mikayla cried out, “Ugh, why are you so mean to me even in my dreams? You absolute bastard…” 

After saying that, she buried her face into the pillow and sobbed sadly. 

Jerome didn’t respond. 

Instead, he pulled Mikayla up again and pinched her chin. 

“You are pretending to be drunk, huh?” 

Given how she arranged everything in such a short time, there was no way she could get drunk so fast. 

But Mikayla, with her head looking up, started having tears roll from the corner of her eyes and slipping 

into her hair, 

She wrinkled her nose, still looking confused. 

For a moment, Jerome couldn’t tell if she was actually drunk. 

“How much did you drink?” 

Even though he initially wanted to interrogate her, what came out instead was a seemingly trivial question. 

Mikayla blinked. 

Feeling aggrieved, she raised five of her fingers. 

*Four bottles. Oh wait. Four is supposed to look like this,” she murmured as she pressed down her thumb, 

then proudly lifted her hand again. “Now, it’s four!” 

Chapter 103 

Jerone didn’t know how to respond. 

It was his first time seeing Mikalya in a drunken stupor. 

She was trying to be serious but looked extremely silly. 

On one hand, she could clearly see the number of fingers she had up. 

Yet, she was so childish, it was hard to tell if she was actually drunk or not. 

Her expression now was carrying a touch of confidence, as if she had forgotten how hard she was crying 

Four bottles of wine would be around four liters. 

Even someone with great tolerance could hardly drink four liters of wine at once. 

Yet, for the sake of Ansoft, she was foolish enough to risk her health. 

“Who allowed you to drink so much?” Jerome asked coldly.