Chapter 180
Once Wanda made up her mind, she said, “If that’s the case, I’ll leave it in you hands then. It’s been a while since I’ve had the mille crepe cakes you make, Kay. Could you make some for me? I’ll send someone over to get it from you tomorrow morning.”
As the daughter of a prestigious family, cooking was never Mikayla’s forte.
She only enrolled in cooking lessons after she heard that good food was essential to capture a man’s heart.
She learned how to cook and bake, yet Jerome never came home despite their dining table being laden with steaming hot dishes.
The food would get cold, and he never showed up.
Even if Jerome did show up, he never bothered to eat, let alone be entranced by Mikayla’s delicacies.
Still, she managed to put her talent to use by baking desserts for Eduard and Wanda.
They couldn’t take in too much sugar at their age, so she took note of the sugar proportions whenever she baked for them, allowing them to enjoy healthy desserts
at ease.
Mikayla hadn’t been baking ever since she was reborn, but she gladly answered,
Sure.”
“You also promised me that you’re going to get along with Jerome these few days. Don’t lie to me again.”
i
Knowing what Wanda was up to, Mikayla refrained from explaining and replied absently, “Alright.”
She drove back to Dragoncrest Villa, abandoning her initial notion to spend the night at Eduard’s because of Wanda’s call.
Once she arrived at the villa, she was about to inform Amy to prepare the ingredients when she spotted Jerome on the living room’s couch.
Tudoino hu hie etnic ovnraccion ha coomad I to be branding about what hannened in
Chapter 180
the afternoon.
His eyes flickered when they met hers.
“Aren’t you supposed to be with Grandma?” Mikayla asked, feeling puzzled:
20
“I went back to the manor alone, so Grandma accused me of mistreating you. She scolded me and kicked me out,” Jerome snarled. “Mikayla, you knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? You didn’t go on purpose because you wanted me scolded!”
Mikayla thought he deserved it.
She snorted.
“You’re clearly overthinking.”
She strode toward the kitchen.
“I’d like some pasta, and no basil please,” he said.
Sensing the dampened fury in his tone, she realized that he might have misunderstood her intention.
She spun around, looking utterly bewildered.
to a
“Aren’t you going to cook for me because you knew Amy was on leave? I haven’t had dinner.”
His audacity was absurd.
“Your Majesty, if you aren’t willing to cook on your own, then I’d kindly suggest you to order some takeout or hire a personal chef. I’m not your babysitter, and I’m not obliged to cook for you.”
Jerome frowned, and retorted, “If cooking for your husband means you’re
babysitting him, then why were you so passionate about it back then? You insisted on cooking for me when I firmly refused.”
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