Chapter 353 An Idea

Lydia believed that Meryl was bound to suffer even more than she was right now. She could vividly picture Meryl caught between Chandler and Dalton, being ruthlessly scorned by the Aniston family.

A malicious glint flashed across Lydia’s face as an idea struck her, and she suddenly shouted.

The garden staff heard the commotion and rushed over. “Oh dear, what happened? Why are you sitting on the ground? Get up, quickly!”

“I just tripped,” Lydia said, using the maid’s arm for support as she stood. The hatred faded from her expression, replaced by a hint of fear. “I hope the baby is okay…”

“What should we do? Should I tell Mrs. Charlotte Aniston?”

The maid had been assigned to take care of Lydia by Charlotte, and she knew all too well that if anything happened to the baby, she’d be the first to face the consequences.

Lydia shook her head. “No, go to the pharmacy and get me some miscarriage prevention pills. A little should do the trick.”

“But I don’t know what those are…”

The maid wasn’t very educated; she could barely read. But her diligence and attention to detail had earned her this responsibility.

She swiftly scribbled a note with her left hand, careful to disguise her handwriting. “Go ahead, the doctor prescribed these when I was in the hospital.”

The maid nodded eagerly, stuffing the note into her pocket before hurrying off.

Meryl woke up to find the room empty.

As she remembered how Chandler had carried her to this room in front of the Aniston family earlier, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

She thought, “How can I possibly face anyone now?”

Especially since Chandler had indulged a little too much at lunch, and his spirits were through the roof.

He’d clearly seen how tired she was but still pinned her down on the bed, showering her with kisses.

The stubble he’d just shaved that morning was already starting to prick her skin, making it feel both painful and itchy.

To make matters worse, Chandler had been massaging her waist, coaxing her to relax.

By the end of their sex, Meryl couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, mortified by her own lack of control.

The Aniston Villa was nothing like their little house; it was bustling with people, and today, it was particularly crowded.

Most importantly, it was broad daylight.

Even though they had their own building, there was no telling if someone might be wandering around the garden, bored and eavesdropping on them.

Meryl pleaded in Chandler’s ear, but he just laughed it off.

“Old folks might know, but they won’t say a word. The younger ones will just think we’re close,” Chandler said, his confidence bordering on arrogance.

She had never seen Chandler so brazen before.

Yet, he was nibbling on her ear, teasing her until she felt utterly powerless to resist.

After their passionate encounter, Meryl noticed that Chandler’s shirt was still buttoned up perfectly.

She thought, “What a gentlemanly rogue he is.”

In a playful act of revenge, she slipped her hand into his crisp white shirt, fingers grazing his abs.

But Chandler was quick to retaliate, and what was supposed to be a peaceful nap turned into an exhausting session.

By the time it was over, Meryl felt utterly drained, her back sore and her body weak. She collapsed onto the bed, succumbing to sleep.

When she finally woke up again, two hours had slipped by, and Chandler was nowhere to be found.

She glanced at the time, realizing she had dozed off for a solid stretch.

Her phone revealed a message from Chandler sent twenty minutes ago: [Water and throat lozenges are on the nightstand. If your throat hurts, suck on one and drink some warm water.]

Meryl cradled her face in her hands, blushing furiously, wishing she could bury her head in the pillow.

She took a sip of water from her glass, the temperature just right, and sent a quick reply: [Where did you go?]

[To the office, handling some international business. I’ll be back soon. Just stay put at the Aniston Villa and wait for me.]

Meryl couldn’t help but smile.

She got up, took a quick shower, and changed into fresh clothes.

The winter daylight was fading quickly, and the sky had grown dark and gloomy.

Suddenly, she thought, “I wonder how Anne is doing? Has Dante gone to see her yet?”

With that thought, Meryl picked up the phone to call Anne.

To her surprise, Yancey answered.

“Where’s Anne?” Meryl asked, her lips pressed. Yancey had been staying under the same roof as Anne recently.

If Dante happened to show up, it could turn into a mess.

Yancey’s voice was soft as he glanced around the room. “She’s crying.”

Meryl’s eyes widened in concern. “Did Dante upset her?”