Chapter 5

Jenna looked down at the bottle on which English letters were printed all over; her heart trembled.

In the Hancher family, access to alcohol was restricted to her.

But in order to fight for a chance, she had to give it a try.

"Francis, you'd better keep your word." After Jenna finished speaking, she pushed Francis away, reached out for the bottle of liquor, and raised her head to quaff.

At nine o'clock in the evening, Jenna staggered out of the box.

Once she closed the door behind her, she leaned against the wall and raised her hand to her throat.

She could hardly stifle the urge to vomit.

No matter how much she drank, she was still a rookie in liquor, so she certainly had no chance of outdoing Francis, who had almost grown up reveling in wine. At this moment, she was so overwhelmed by the effects that she felt herself almost floating off her feet, and all her internal organs seem to be fired in discomfort.

She held the door frame trying to support herself, but as soon as she lifted her foot, she fell forward.

Shadows flickering before her eyes, Jenna felt clasped into a familiar embrace the moment before she fell to the ground. In a dizzy whirl, Jenna opened her eyes and asked uncertainly when she saw the person, "Ea... Eason?"

The man hugging her with a grumpy face rumbled, "Why did you drink so much?"

Jenna was almost in a stupor, unable to discern whether she was in a dream or still in the reality. Leaning her head on the man's chest, she grinned widely, "Francis said... If I won... the engagement would be called off..." With that, her head slouched and she lapsed into unconsciousness.

Tempests taking forms in his eyes, Eason stood up with Jenna in his arms and kicked open the door of the box with a livid face.

Bang.

The group of people in the box turned around and immediately quieted down.

Eason Hancher?

Francis, who was enjoying himself in exhilaration, felt a chill creeping up his spine at the sight of Eason. The bottle in his hand fell to the ground in an instant. "Mr. Hancher."

Eason wore an overcast countenance, tempests brewing in his seemingly unperturbed gazes.

Francis swallowed hard and cast his eyes on Jenna in Eason's arms. His heart shuddered as he hastily provided an untenable explanation, "Jenna is drunk. Mr. Hancher, don't take offense. I'm just having fun with our Jenna!"

Our Jenna?

Interesting!

Eason looked at Francis fixedly until Francis was freaked out. He turned to look at Mr. Quall, who was standing behind him, and said in a deep voice, "Bring me the two boxes of vodka that I have stored in Colorful Hotel. No one will leave until they can finish drinking all of it tonight." Then he looked at Francis and sneered viciously, his eyes cold.

"Since you are having fun, you should have it to your heart's content."

Francis was stricken speechless.

The status of the Hancher family's in Y City, to begin with, was not the kind he dared to mess with.

Eason alone was enough to daunt him.

Once he came of age, Eason started a company abroad and took it public in just three years. After returning to Y City, Eason integrated his company abroad into the Hancher Group at a lightning speed. Just his achievements mentioned here sufficed to eclipse Francis.

"Fine, I'll drink!"

Jenna opened her eyes in a fit of headache.

The unfamiliar environment in black and white knocked her conscious in an instant. She sat up abruptly, lifted the quilt, and looked down.

Her clothes were gone.

At this moment, she was only wearing a loose men's shirt.

Jenna's mind went blank for a moment. Who took off her clothes?

At this moment, the door of the bedroom opened, and against the light, Jenna saw the man at the door. Her tongue seemed to be tied. "Eason?"

Eason came over with a cup of strong tea for her to sober up and sat naturally by the bed. He touched her forehead to feel her temperature and said, "It seems that you haven't lost your sanity in alcohol, now that you can still recognize me."

Jenna looked around. "Where is this?"

"My private apartment downtown."

"Why am I here?"

"You're drunk. I happened to pass by."

Jenna was at a loss for words to reply.

She was a tad abashed, feeling that the man was too close. The familiar fresh scent of mint on his body mixed with the smell of tobacco made her unable to breathe. She stepped back imperceptibly, reached out to take the tea and took a swig. "Thank you."

She put the empty cup on the small table by the bed, but the man who had been sitting suddenly leaned on her. He propped her up between the big bed and his chest with both hands and asked with a chuckle, "How are you going to thank me?"

Probably someone lofty and abstentious like Eason would never anticipate a time when he could hardly refrain himself from approaching her and teasing her every time they met.

Jenna was caught off guard and fell on the bed. The man's tall figure was instantly pressed down. Her face seemed to be burning with blush. She pressed her hands against his chest and jabbered, Eason Hancher, shameless!"

After a few times, she still couldn't shake him off at all.

As she pulled, the silk quilt fell off her body.

He had intended it to be a joke, but at this moment, Eason felt a clear desire in his body gradually emerge, and he lowered his head and kissed her.

The girl reached out to push him, but her hands were pressed against her head.

He restrained her hands reaching out trying to break free as he spared one hand to unfasten his belt.

Jenna subconsciously reached out to kick him. But she frowned and hissed.

Eason paused. "What's wrong?" Then he turned around and saw a large bruise on the girl's calf. Eason's eyes turned cold.

Jenna took the opportunity to sit up, pulled the quilt over herself, and said lightly, "I accidentally bumped into the edge of the table."

He rolled over and got out of the bedroom. When he came back, there was already a bottle of ointment in his hand. He sat down beside her with a sullen face and said, "Come here."

Jenna flinched. "I can do it myself."

"If you don't want me to continue what I did to you just now, come here."

After only a second of stalemate, Jenna followed his instruction.

After applying the ointment, Eason put on the lid when Jenna immediately dodged away and wrapped herself in the quilt, her face as red as blood.

Eason was skulking for a moment. "Am I that scary?"

Jenna looked at him warily. "You're unreliable."

The man looked down at her for a while, curled his lips, and chuckled. He turned around, took out a white shirt from the closet, and threw it on her. "Sleep here tonight for the time being. The old master won't find out."

"Also, you will sleep here while I will sleep in the guest room. I'm not interested in someone that has not yet matured."

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