Chapter 349 Toast
“When I look at her now, all I see is a schemer who stirs up trouble. She’s nowhere near Aunt Meryl’s level, and the worst part? She’s a love child.”
Cate scoffed, her eyes darting over to Meryl, who was seated at the other table.
Meryl was a vision in her fluffy, double-breasted jacket, in a soft, buttery yellow that made her skin look even more glowing. Even a girl in her early twenties like Cate couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
In high society, there was a clear pecking order, and those born into it looked down on illegitimate children. Who would want a surprise sibling popping up out of nowhere? If they shared the same mother, it was manageable. But if not, that was a recipe for a nasty fight over inheritance and shares.
Cate imagined herself as Meryl, wishing she could just rip Lydia apart. In her eyes, Lydia was utterly detestable.
Cate shook her head. “Let’s be real. Your kid is going to come from the belly of a love child. That just doesn’t vibe with your status, does it?”
Dalton remained silent, seemingly indifferent to anything related to Lydia.
His gaze was fixed on Meryl’s face, and from his vantage point, he had a clear view of her. Lydia’s status as a love child was news to Dalton, something he had only learned from recent online gossip. He felt a pang of concern that Meryl might be affected by this revelation. Just then, he caught sight of Chandler discreetly taking Meryl’s hand under the table.
They exchanged a knowing smile. Dalton observed this interaction, and his expression darkened.
“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Cate nudged him with her elbow, her voice laced with irritation.
Dalton’s gaze was still glued to Meryl, and Cate thought, “His eyes are so obvious. With so many pairs of eyes on us, he should be more careful.” She was worried that the scene from Christmas Eve, when Dalton drunkenly pulled Meryl into a conversation, might repeat itself. She desperately wanted to pull his attention back.
But Dalton didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his glass and suddenly walked over to Meryl.
“Uncle Chandler, Mer… Aunt Meryl, I’d like to propose a toast,” Dalton said, though his eyes never left Meryl’s face.
Cate’s heart raced.
Meanwhile, Lydia dropped her spoon with a clatter, the sound echoing in the tense atmosphere.
Chandler raised an eyebrow, sizing Dalton up. Perhaps because of nervousness, Dalton seized the moment to clink glasses with him, downing a drink before refilling his glass.
“Aunt Meryl,” Dalton said, preparing to clink his glass with hers, his gaze drifting over her features.
But Chandler, with an air of nonchalance, intervened, placing a hand between them. “Your Aunt Meryl can’t hold her liquor. I’ll drink this for her.”
With that, he took Meryl’s glass, clinked it against Dalton’s, and took a sip.
Dalton’s expression darkened, but he held his tongue. Chandler was right; with so many eyes watching, every move could be scrutinized and gossiped about. Dalton wanted Meryl, but he knew he wasn’t in a position to challenge Chandler. Pushing too hard would only land him in an awkward situation.
After finishing that drink, Dalton went around the table, raising his glass to toast the other branches of the Aniston family, making sure to hit everyone.
But Chandler knew all too well that Dalton was only toasting everyone to get to Meryl. Chandler saw right through Dalton’s subtle intentions and had no intention of letting him get what he wanted. He instinctively glanced at the woman beside him.