Margaret Tucker AKA Lord Reaper novel Chapter 116

Chapter 116 Drunken Chaos

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Her words displeased him greatly. He stared at her, his gaze dangerous. “Maggie, if you can’t trust me, who the hell do you think you can trust?”

“Andrew, I need to rest now. I’ll sleep like a log. You gotta keep me safe, okay?”

This was the first time Margaret had entrusted her life completely to someone else.

After saying that, she could hold on no longer. She closed her eyes and slipped into a deep sleep.

“Goodnight, Maggie,” Andrew whispered.

He thought she was just exhausted.

Watching her sleep, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, pulled her into his arms, and drifted off too.

The night was pitch-black and blustery, a full moon blazing high overhead.

A chill of unease hung thick in the air-tonight was destined to be far from ordinary.

Three in the morning…

Sounds erupted from Mohler Manor.

Gunfire. Dense, non-stop gunfire!!

Inside the room, the second the gunfire rang out, Andrew’s eyes flew open-sharp and dangerous. There are assassins.

Andrew’s expression remained calm as he lay in bed.

He didn’t care about the attackers.

Instead, he glanced worriedly at the girl beside him, fearing the noise would wake her.

Thankfully, she slept soundly, completely unaffected by the gunfire outside.

Suddenly, footsteps approached from all around the room!

Hearing them, Andrew frowned slightly, a hint of surprise crossing his face.

They’d managed to get past his layers of security and reach the door.

To hold off his secret guards, they must have sent at least a few top-tier fighters!

Clearly, the other side had paid a fortune.

A savage, blood-hungry grin curled at the edge of Andrew’s mouth.

Outside the corridor, after fighting through countless obstacles, the few top-tier fighters finally reached the door.

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Chapter 116 Drunken Chaos

The man inside was their target-the heir to the Mohler family of Karemin!

Confidence filled their faces. Victory was within reach!

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Andrew was a cripple, a frail sick man. Once they’d gotten past his bodyguards, killing him would be a piece of cake!

After all, they were all top-tier fighters-rare, elite, absolute powerhouses!

If the pay hadn’t been so tempting, they would never have stooped to killing such a legendary weakling!

“Move in!”

They exchanged a glance, ready to smash open the door and take out their target in one swift move!

Just then-

Andrew’s cold voice echoed from inside the room. He kept his voice low, as if afraid of waking the sleeping girl.

“How dare you.”

As his words fell, an invisible, terrifying force surged outward from the room.

The moment the top-tier fighters were about to crash through the door, something bizarre and horrifying happened!

In the blink of an eye, their entire bodies exploded into clouds of blood mist-vanishing without a trace!

When Margaret woke up again, it was already noon the next day. She was alone in the room.

To the minute, exactly 12 hours had passed since she’d fallen asleep.

Her head still ached-not the soul-tearing pain from before, but a dull, lingering discomfort.

Margaret got out of bed.

She was dying for a drink.

In her past life, every time she woke up from this deep sleep, she’d drink to numb the headache.

She glanced around and spotted Andrew’s collection of fine wines.

Margaret picked out a few bottles of strong liquor-high proof.

The harsh liquid burned down her throat, jolting her nerves. Sure enough, the headache eased a lot.

After finishing two whole bottles of high-proof liquor, something unexpected happened to Margaret.

She got drunk.

No one ever knew what a drunk Margaret would do next.

Not even she did herself-because before, she’d never been able to get drunk.

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Chapter 116 Drunken Chaos

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She could never have guessed that this reborn body of hers had absolutely no alcohol tolerance whatsoever.

She stumbled out of the room, half-asleep, half-awake.

As soon as Margaret stepped off the staircase, she stumbled and fell straight into Andrew’s arms.

Andrew, in his wheelchair, reacted quickly, catching her. The drunk Margaret kept squirming in his arms.

“Cute guy… who are you?”

Her cheeks were flushed pink. All traces of her usual coldness were gone.

She blinked her hazy eyes up at Andrew, her hands wandering as she grabbed his face.

Her breath reeked of strong alcohol as she spoke.

“Ugh… tell me… who… who are you?

“Cute guy, if you don’t tell me… I’ll punch you!”

Smelling the overwhelming stench of alcohol, Andrew’s calm brows furrowed tightly.

Why is Maggie drunk?

I stepped out for a bit this morning, and I specifically told Walter to watch her.

How the hell did that guy even keep an eye on her?!

An icy chill emanated from his very being, sharp enough to turn flesh to ice.

Everyone else in the living room was hit with the sudden, bone-deep cold of an early winter.

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