Tara glanced at the clock on the wall. She had unknowingly slept for a few hours, and it was now 5:30 pm.

She felt a bit weak but thought that it was fortunate that Gemma had given her half a day off. Otherwise, she might have fallen sick.

She wondered how the situation from the morning had been handled and who it was that had locked her in the sunroom.

She didn't have a clue about anything. Since it was almost dinnertime, she figured that it was time to go out and ask around.

As soon as she stepped out of her room, she saw three people standing at the adjacent room's door. It was Stella, Leah, and Hailey.

The difference among them was that only Leah was dragging a suitcase. Her eyes were red as she bid the other two women goodbye.

"Take care." Stella's words revealed her reluctance to part with Leah. 

Hailey, however, remained silent. She was disappointed that the one leaving was

The housekeeper who was bumped into had no guard up against Hailey. Being deliberately collided with in such a manner, the housekeeper failed to keep a firm grip on the bowl in her hands, so it fell to the ground.

The sound of the porcelain bowl shattering startled Tara and Stella, who were both preparing fruits. They quickly turned around to see what had happened.

The housekeeper, having only recently started, was already nervous about the work environment. Now, just after joining, she had broken a bowl—something that wasn't taken lightly in a wealthy household, where even the bowls were far from cheap.

The bumped-into housekeeper was so frightened that she was completely at a loss of what to do. She didn't understand why Hailey had collided with her.

The housekeeper's panicked expression greatly pleased Hailey, as it seemed the intended intimidation had been effective.

"Watch wher

Tara had no idea how long Lance had been painting. As soon as he told her she could rest, she quickly drifted off to sleep.

Sunlight streamed onto the terrace, flooding her surroundings.

A breeze drifted in from behind Tara, stirring her dark hair. The scarf she had used to tie it back had loosened, and with the wind, it slipped from her hair and floated down.

Framed by the sunlight, she sat quietly on the wooden chair. Strands of her hair swayed gently in the breeze, and her beautiful face glowed in the light. Her eyes were gently closed, her sleeping face calm and serene.

At that moment, Lance had a ridiculous urge to hide and keep her all to himself.

His grip tightened on the paintbrush unconsciously, though he didn't notice.

After a while, he stood up and walked over to Tara. He reached out to brush away the hair that had fallen across her chest, but it seemed to toy with him. Every time he moved it aside, the wind blew it right back.

Lance was very patient. This time, he tucked the strand behind Tara's ear. His fingertips brushed against her skin—especially her ear—making her shiver.

Tara seemed to be sleeping soundly, undisturbed by him.

Lance withdrew his hand. He was about to return to his painting when he saw that the wind had blown her hair across her chest again. He stared at it in silence.

He didn't want to ruin such a rare, well-composed piece, so he patiently brushed the air off her chest again.

This time, Tara felt the movement in her sleep. Thinking it was a mosquito, she swatted at her chest.

She jolted awake when she realized that her hand had landed on a much larger one.

She saw who it was before her. When Lance met her bright, expressive eyes, his breath hitched. It was as if something had brushed against his heart, leaving a lingering itch deep inside.

Tara blushed, and she quickly shoved his hand away.

"Weren't… Weren't you painting?" Tara asked. She didn't know why he was suddenly in front of her.

Lance slipped his hand into his pocket and explained, "You were sleeping. The wind blew your hair forward, and I just wanted to move it aside."

Tara nodded, still a little dazed. So that was what it was. She collected herself and said, "Go ahead and keep painting, then."

She was very cooperative, as she wanted to see the finished piece, too. The painting couldn't be left unfinished.

"Okay." Lance took a few seconds to steady his hand after being surprised. Then, he quickly immersed himself back into his painting.

It was quite a coincidence that just as he made the final stroke, knocking echoed from the door downstairs.

"Mr. Swain? Are you in there? Mr. Swain?" Stella's anxious voice drifted up to the terrace. 

Tara stretched and thought, "Finally, someone showed up."

Lance unhurriedly finished the painting before leading Tara downstairs.

Tara followed behind him. The previously locked door now stood open. It was evident that someone had unlocked it from the outside.

Stella hurried over, looking like she was about to cry. "Mr. Swain…"

Lance appeared cold and distant as he said, "I'm fine."

Stella's heart pounded with guilt. She was afraid he had realized she'd known about the "plan" since yesterday—and that she was the reason he and Tara had been locked in the sunroom.

She deeply regretted it. No one would have expected that someone would come to the studio so early to paint.

She glanced at Tara standing behind Lance and grew even more guarded.

Tara's eyes swept over Stella, Hailey, and Leah. She wondered which of the three was behind this incident.

Lance said, "Gemma's coming later. The few of you should get ready."

He said it just to shake Leah up. He didn't care for drama, especially when he was dragged into it.

Stella's and Leah's expressions shifted. Stella kept tight control over her composure, only letting a flicker of emotion show. But Leah broke out into a cold sweat, absolutely terrified.

And it was like Tara didn't even exist. Not one of them had after her. But she had come to expect it. They usually ignored her, so why would that day be any different?

Whoever had locked her in the sunroom probably had no idea Lance was there, too.

Next, it was up to Gemma to decide how to handle the situation.

…

By the time they returned to the villa from the sunroom, it was already noon. The three men in the dining room were eating.

When Shawn saw Lance return, he glanced at Tara behind him.

"What happened?" he asked Lance.

Soren paused eating and looked at them. He raised an eyebrow when he caught sight of Tara in the back, clearly not in great shape.

Jonah looked up briefly. When he saw that they were fine, he continued eating his lunch.

Lance took a seat and explained, "Someone locked Tara in the art studio."

"So the person didn't know you were in there, too?" Soren asked, his interest piqued.

"Yeah. They locked me in with her," Lance replied.

Soren gave Tara a knowing look and teased, "It looks like you didn't make the most out of the rare opportunity."

Tara glared at him. She was already annoyed, to begin with.

"Please, have some more food, Mr. Farrell," she said. Then, in her head, she thought, "I hope you choke on it."

It was the first time Tara had talked back to Soren like that. He froze for a moment, then burst out into laughter. "I kind of like it when you talk back."

He found her truly interesting.

Tara was speechless. She couldn't believe that Soren had this kind of kink. She found it unbelievable.

Meanwhile, amidst Soren's teasing, Lance recalled Tara's touch on his left hand. The sensation of her soft, full palm on his still left his arm tingling. And the memory of her captivating eyes and flushed face lingered.

Shawn could tell Tara wasn't feeling well. She looked slightly pale and drained.

"Alright. Stop teasing her," he said.

"Have something to eat first," Lance said to her, snapping out of his daze.

Tara felt a bit lightheaded from low blood sugar. She nodded listlessly as she headed toward the staff dining area on her own.

It was rare to see her like this, and even Jonah frowned at the sight of her.

"Did you see who locked the door?" Jonah asked Lance.

Lance nodded. "I happened to be on the art studio's terrace and saw the person. I've sent Gemma the details and asked her to handle it."

It was Gemma's responsibility to handle the hiring and firing of the staff. It was a complicated matter. Only Gemma knew how to handle the follow-up tasks of letting staff go. So, it was safest to leave it to her.

"Okay." Jonah nodded.

…

Leah could no longer stay calm. She never expected Lance to be inside the sunroom as well. She knew that she would surely face serious consequences with the situation involving him.

She looked pleadingly at Stella for help. 

But Stella had already regained her composure and ignored Leah. She refused to be dragged into it.

In the staff dining area, Tara finished her lunch. She had another bowl of bone broth that Terence had given her and could immediately tell it was made with rich, high-quality ingredients.

She finally regained some energy and took a seat on the couch in the lounge to rest for a while.

Gemma arrived and learned the full story of the situation from Lance's message. She told Tara, "Tara, go back to your room and rest today. I'm giving you half a day of paid leave."

Gemma first reassured Tara, who was still feeling off.

Tara nodded. "Thanks, Gemma."

"Don't mention it. Just go. If you're hungry, just tell the kitchen what you want," Gemma said.

Tara shook her head. "I've already eaten. I'll go back to my room and sleep for a while."

"Alright." Gemma felt a pang of sympathy for her. She thought that it was unfair for someone decent like Tara to be slandered in such a way and locked in the sunroom while she was working. 

Prejudice was indeed such a harmful thing.

Tara returned to her room and lay back in bed to sleep after showering. Her slumber was far from peaceful, and her dream left her feeling incredulous.

She looked up pleadingly at the tall, handsome man in her dream, his emotions frantic on his face as he moved toward her.

She suddenly woke from the dream, gasping for breath. Only then did she realize what kind of dream she had just had.

Tara had no experience with romance. She had not even held hands with the opposite sex, let alone done anything more intimate.

She wondered if she needed to get herself a boyfriend but ultimately decided to forget about it. Her current priority was getting through the contract period and avoiding these male leads.

Then, she could safely avoid the fate of the villainess in the story.

Tara glanced at the clock on the wall. She had unknowingly slept for a few hours, and it was now 5:30 pm.

She felt a bit weak but thought that it was fortunate that Gemma had given her half a day off. Otherwise, she might have fallen sick.

She wondered how the situation from the morning had been handled and who it was that had locked her in the sunroom.

She didn't have a clue about anything. Since it was almost dinnertime, she figured that it was time to go out and ask around.

As soon as she stepped out of her room, she saw three people standing at the adjacent room's door. It was Stella, Leah, and Hailey.

The difference among them was that only Leah was dragging a suitcase. Her eyes were red as she bid the other two women goodbye.

"Take care." Stella's words revealed her reluctance to part with Leah. 

Hailey, however, remained silent. She was disappointed that the one leaving wasn't Stella instead. She didn't believe that Leah would be this foolish to lock Tara in the sunroom f

Chapter 13