Chapter 367 I Want Meryl

Meryl looked at him, puzzled. “Hmm? Who can’t see?”

Chandler’s eyes deepened, his gaze briefly flicking to the window ledge. “No one.”

Up at the window, Dalton watched as Chandler and Meryl disappeared from view. Fury coursed through him, and he slammed his fist into the glass in front of him.

The window shattered instantly. Shards of glass scattered across the floor, embedding into his hand.

But Dalton didn’t seem to feel the pain at all.

He knew Chandler had done it on purpose.

He had deliberately provoked him.

Seeing Chandler carry Meryl away like that, Dalton could already imagine what they were about to do next.

It was too much. Dalton felt as if he were about to break apart.

He crouched on the ground, his hands gripping his head, and let out a muffled, anguished scream.

What Chandler had done hurt more than any physical wound could. It was mental torment, and Dalton couldn’t take it.

His eyes were bloodshot, his hand dripping with blood.

He felt like he was going insane.

The sound of shattering glass pierced the stillness of the night. Worried about her feverish son, Charlotte had come to check on Dalton after settling Lydia down.

She hadn’t expected to walk into a room covered in blood.

Startled, Charlotte rushed over to him.

“Dalton, what happened? What’s going on?”

It was clear to her that Dalton had broken the window.

Tears streamed down Dalton’s face. “I want Meryl!”

Charlotte froze for a moment, then quickly shut the door behind her, terrified that someone else from the Aniston family might overhear.

“What are you saying? Meryl is married to your uncle. Dalton, you can’t talk like that! Didn’t I already warn you?”

Dalton slumped to the floor, his entire body hollowed out, like a man who had lost his soul.

Seeing that he still had a fever and his hand was injured, Charlotte moved to help him to bed.

But Dalton shoved her away, opened the door, and stormed out without looking back.

“Where are you going in the middle of the night, sick as you are?”

“Are you really that obsessed with Meryl?”

Watching him like this, Charlotte became even more certain that Lydia needed to stay by his side.

“Don’t you think it’s humiliating to act like this over a woman? Men should focus on their careers. I’ve never seen a man act like he’s dying for a woman. Besides, it was your choice to marry Lydia.”

Charlotte frowned. “You must be delirious from the fever. Get some rest and cool down.”

She took a few fever-reducing pills from the medicine cabinet and placed them on the bedside table.

Then she called the housekeeper to clean up the shattered glass.

Worried that Dalton might do something impulsive, she grabbed the key and locked the door from the outside.

Looking at Dalton’s current state, Charlotte feared he might run off and confront Chandler directly.

Dalton lay on the bed, his heart in pieces.

Chandler had truly pushed him to his limit.

He couldn’t believe how ruthless Chandler had been. Not only had he taken advantage of the situation to steal the woman he loved, but he had also done it in a way that deliberately hurt him.

Hearing Charlotte lock the door from the outside, Dalton let out a mirthless laugh.

If he wanted to leave, no lock could hold him.

His gaze shifted to the broken window.

If Meryl could jump out, so could he.

Dalton stood up, climbed onto the window ledge, and leaped into the night.