Chapter 37 Bail
With a loud crash, the bottle shattered against the edge of the table, liquid spilling across the floor like a crimson tide.
Meryl gripped the neck of the broken bottle, her resolve hardening as she swung it toward Dalton and the hand he held. “Don’t touch me, you filthy bastard!”
Dalton’s breath hitched, a mix of shock and disbelief washing over him. “You think I’m filthy?” “Yes! Dalton, are you really that thick-headed?”
Meryl’s eyes blazed with fury, a storm of emotions that had been brewing for seven long years finally erupting. “I used to cling to you like a shadow, but the moment you started seeing Lydia behind my back and sent me to prison, that was the end of us!”
Shards of glass littered the ground, mingling with a pool of blood. But Meryl didn’t care.
“Now I see clearly. I must have been blind to ever like you. What’s the matter? Can’t handle the truth?”
A cold smirk danced on her face as she raised the jagged bottle again, aiming for his hand. “I congratulate you, Dalton! You finally get to marry Lydia! But here you are, holding my hand. Aren’t you worried your precious Lydia will get jealous?”
With a final, forceful swing, Meryl shattered the bottle completely, the glass splintering into a million pieces at their feet. She tossed aside the cap, her gaze landing on the blood pooling on Dalton’s arm, but her expression remained stone-cold, unfazed by the sight.
Just then, Anne rushed over, panic etched on her face as she checked to see if Meryl was hurt. Meryl’s pale arms were stained crimson, a shocking sight against her skin, and the chaos around them only added to the tension. But thankfully, a quick glance revealed no visible injuries.
However, just as Anne let out a breath of relief, the sound of police sirens pierced the air, and officers flooded into the bar. Unbeknownst to them, someone had quietly called the cops.
A few of Dalton’s wealthy friends hurried over, supporting him as they exclaimed, “Mr. Dalton Aniston, are you alright?” No one had expected things to escalate to this point.
Dalton remained silent, his complexion pale. Meryl’s strike had left a deep cut on his arm, blood oozing from the wound.
One of his friends said, “The ambulance is here! Let’s get you to the hospital!”
Dalton nodded, his eyes lingering on Meryl with a complex mix of emotions as he was led away. Meryl didn’t flinch, her gaze fixed ahead, too disgusted to spare him another glance.
At the police station, Meryl sat in the interrogation room, her clothes stained with blood. Her face was pale, and her fragile frame curled into itself, silence enveloping her like a shroud of despair.
Beside her, Anne wore a worried expression. “Meryl, are you…”
The police had rushed to the station so quickly that Meryl had left her coat behind at the bar. She was only wearing a thin tank dress, and the late-night chill seeped into her skin. Turning to Anne, Meryl managed a weak smile. “I’m fine, just a bit cold.”
Anne’s eyes widened in concern. She, too, was only in light tops. If she had worn a jacket, she would have offered it.
“You were so fierce when you hit Dalton! It was amazing! When he left, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. I bet he’s never been hit like that in his life.”
Meryl hadn’t intended for things to get so out of hand. She hadn’t expected him to hold on even after she smashed the bottle.
She thought, “What’s Dalton up to now? Back when I used to follow him around, he treated me like I was invisible, never sparing me a glance. Besides, he had a press conference yesterday announcing Lydia as his fiancée. We’re broken up now—why the heck is he still hanging around?”
The police approached and said, “Ms. Stone, we’ve reviewed the surveillance from the incident. It’s clear that you were acting in self-defense, so no charges will be filed. However, we need someone to come in and post bail for you.”
Upon hearing this, Anne immediately asked, “Can I post bail for her?”
The officer glanced at Anne and shook his head, “No, you’ll need a family member to come in for that, too.”
Anne was left speechless.