Secret Admiration: Finding True Love After … 

Chapter 220 The Revelation 

Chandler was seated with his back to the door, but as he saw Dalton’s pen drop to the floor, he raised an eyebrow in mild curiosity. 

Walter, noticing Meryl, quickly leaned in and whispered something into Chandler’s ear. Only then did Chandler turn around. 

When his gaze met Meryl’s, his expression darkened. She was wearing his shirt, and her long legs were exposed. 

The room fell silent as everyone’s attention shifted to her. Chandler’s eyes narrowed, and he said curtly, “Go back to the room.” 

Meryl’s heart skipped a beat. She had no idea the living room would be filled with senior executives. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she quickly turned and shut the door behind her with a loud thud. 

Her mind raced. “What now? Everyone can tell what’s going on. This is so mortifying.” 

As Meryl hurried back to the room, Chandler gave Walter a brief instruction. Walter nodded and left, shutting the door behind him. 

In the living room, the atmosphere was palpably awkward. Every tiny sound seemed amplified in the tense silence. The executives exchanged nervous glances, aware of Chandler’s icy demeanor. The awkwardness was palpable as they had inadvertently walked in on a private moment and were unsure of how to react. The realization that they had stumbled upon something deeply personal was heavy. None of them wanted to be the one to break the silence or make things worse. 

The silence stretched on until Chandler slammed the file he was holding onto the table, making everyone jump. His frustration was evident, and it only heightened the executives‘ anxiety. They feared that their intrusion might have serious consequences. 

One executive, clearly anxious, wiped the sweat from his brow and stammered, “Mr. Aniston, we’ll be discreet. We won’t talk about what we just saw.” 

Chandler looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? And what exactly is there to talk about?” 

The executive faltered, unable to answer. He wiped his forehead again, sweat continuing to bead. It was clear Chandler’s question was a test, and no one was willing to risk their jobs by making assumptions about his relationship with Meryl. 

Leaning back on the couch, Chandler took a slow drag from his cigarette, relishing the discomfort in the room. Just then, Walter returned, holding a tote bag. He walked to the door and knocked lightly. “Mrs. Aniston, Mr. Aniston has something for you.” Walter’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for everyone in the living room to hear. 

The executives exchanged stunned looks, unable to believe that Walter was referring to Meryl as “Mrs. Aniston.” In a matter of moments, it dawned on them that Meryl was indeed Chandler’s elusive wife. 

Chandler, observing the reaction with a smirk, said, “Why is everyone looking so shocked? Did someone lose their dentures?” 

The executive who had spoken before quickly closed his mouth, realizing he had been caught off guard. “Mr. Aniston… is Ms. Stone really your wife?” 

Chandler chuckled, took a drag from his cigarette, and replied, “Or is she your wife?” 

At this moment, Meryl emerged from her room in the clothes Walter had brought. Unaware of the commotion, she walked into the living room only to find the executives standing rigidly as if at attention. Startled, she took a step back. To her surprise, the executives, typically so proud and aloof, bowed to her in unison. 

“Mrs. Aniston!”