Chapter 2 Tara struggled to push Lance away, but her arms were trapped beneath his weight. She tried with all her might, but he remained immovable. She wasn't strong enough to free herself. No matter how hard she fought, her efforts were in vain. His warm breath grazed her neck, causing her heart to race uncontrollably. She felt lost, unsure of what to do. Just then, the door swung open, and Stella entered, freezing in her tracks at the sight before her.

Lance, towering over Tara on the floor by the couch, unmoving. Stella stood there, stunned. "You two-" Her voice faltered, and hurt filled her expression. Lance was the guy she had a crush on, and witnessing this scene was like a dagger to her heart. Still pinned under Lance, Tara heard the door open and Stella's voice. Relief washed over her, and she urgently raised her voice. "Q-Quick! Help me get him off.

I can't breathe!" Tara pleaded urgently, not just because of the lack of air, but also because his weight pressed heavily on her chest, causing it to ache. She assumed Lance must have been completely drunk, lying on top of her with his full body weight. Stella snapped out of her daze and rushed over to assist. After a struggle, they finally managed to push Lance aside. Tara scrambled out from under him, gasping for breath, her limbs tingling from the weight that had trapped her.

"Thank you," Tara breathed out. Stella gazed at Tara, her hair and clothes slightly disheveled, yet she still appeared effortlessly beautiful. Her striking, radiant features captivated those around her. Though nothing had transpired between Tara and Lance, Stella couldn't shake the unease tightening in her chest. "You're welcome," Stella replied, her smile faint. Tara returned a tired smile.

She felt utterly drained after helping Lance up the stairs, being trapped beneath him, and using all her strength to push him away. Glancing at Lance, still unconscious on the couch, she decided to let him be, not wanting to risk waking him again. "Stella, my clothes are wet. I'm going downstairs to change," Tara announced. She didn't need to check her reflection to know she appeared disheveled. Stella emerged from the bathroom holding a basin of water and nodded.

"Go change, then come back up." Tara acknowledged with a nod. "Thanks for taking care of things here." Stella smiled, yet she had no intention of allowing Tara near Lance again. Tara didn't dwell on it. She straightened her rumpled uniform, deeming it sufficient for the moment, indicating she had no interest in befriending Stella, just maintaining politeness. As Tara left the room, the door quietly shut behind her.

Upon reaching the stairwell, she halted halfway upon hearing footsteps echoing from below. Looking down, she spotted Soren Farrell in casual workout attire, sports headphones draped around his neck. His handsome features exuded confidence, giving him an air of charm and mischief. His sharp gaze swept over her in silent appraisal upon noticing her. Tara's uniform, slightly wrinkled with lingering damp patches, clung to her skin.

The standard black-and-white dress worn by housekeepers typically fell just above the knee, appearing modest on most but shorter on her tall frame, ending mid-thigh. Tara was accustomed to her curves garnering more attention than her intelligence. The uniform accentuated her figure, making her stand out. Her disheveled hair, flushed face, and damp fabric hugging her body left a blend of innocence and allure, with a faint blush still coloring her neck from Lance's warmth.

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Soren's gaze lingered as he ascended the stairs. Tara hadn't anticipated encountering him. She hesitated before moving aside to allow him passage. He strode past but paused before continuing down the hall, turning slightly to face her, his demeanor aloof and detached. The proximity between them was now intimate.

Soren scrutinized her once more before inquiring, "You're the one who upset Jonah the other day, aren't you?" He had heard about a housekeeper who had brought coffee to Jonah Pearson a couple of days ago, then attempted to flirt with him in his room, causing Jonah to become so irritated that he had her leave. Recalling the host's history, Tara understood Soren's reference. She awkwardly nodded in acknowledgment, her beauty remaining striking even as she bowed her head in embarrassment.

Soren stood in silence, watching her for a long moment before turning away with a quiet scoff, as if her attempt to charm Jonah was beneath him. Unperturbed by his mockery or disdain, Tara regarded Soren as merely one of the villa's owners, holding no significance to her. His opinion held no weight. As he withdrew into the distance, Tara descended the stairs, feeling uncomfortable in her uniform and eager to change in her room promptly. Working as a housekeeper at the villa had its perks.

Each live-in housekeeper had their own room, and the pay was generous. However, due to the band members' preference for fewer live-in staff, only a select few were employed, with one having been recently dismissed. Apart from the live-in housekeepers, others came in for work but didn't stay overnight, departing once their duties were complete. Hurrying to her room downstairs, Tara shut the door behind her. Passing a mirror, she paused to study her reflection.

The slender figure staring back at her had disheveled hair and clothes, yet still possessed a lovely appearance. She adjusted her skirt, grateful for the inner shorts that prevented any mishaps, essential for her tasks. Changing into a clean uniform set, Tara felt a pulsing ache in her temples. Ten minutes later, she emerged, knowing she couldn't linger, and hastened back upstairs to Lance's room.

Stella was still tending to Lance's hands and neck when she heard the door open and close, her expression darkening. Tara approached silently, observing Stella's care for Lance. She picked up the basin of warm water, carried it to the bathroom, emptied it, and refilled it with fresh, warm water. Stella's demeanor softened slightly as Tara placed the basin back beside her. Unaware of the shift in Stella's attitude, Tara assumed it was time for a fresh basin of warm water.

Despite Stella's apparent reluctance for Tara to be near Lance, Tara remained unfazed, proceeding to clean his hands. Stella's stiffness during the process did not escape Tara's notice. Pretending not to notice Stella's defensiveness, Tara settled on the couch with nothing to do, obligated to stay and care for Lance as instructed by Gemma. With Stella nearing completion of cleaning Lance, Tara waited, idle.

Upon Stella's finish, Tara took the basin quietly and retreated to the bathroom to put things away at a deliberate pace, unpressed for time. Returning to her seat, Tara found Stella ignoring her, wholly engrossed in tending to Lance with fondness, occasionally adjusting his hair.

Observing the tender scene, suffused with affection, Tara reflected on the original story of the novel-Stella's infatuation with Lance, her attentive care for him, and the other band members, ultimately winning over all four members. Resting her chin in her hand, Tara watched Stella's devoted attentiveness toward Lance. Outside, birds chirped, and cicadas hummed intermittently. Though the sunlight was harsh, the room exuded a cold, tranquil atmosphere. Before long, Tara's eyelids grew heavy. Despite her struggle to remain awake, exhaustion overtook her as she sank into the couch, slipping into a deep slumber.