Tara went to get her breakfast and sat down at the dining table in the lounge, eating slowly and savoring each bite. Soon, she heard the sound of the wheelchair scraping against the floor, but she didn't glance up and continued eating. Stella had assumed that Tara's gesture of offering her water the previous day was an olive branch, an attempt to reconcile. However, to her surprise, Tara's demeanor remained as distant and detached as ever, showing no sign of warmth or change.

Famous for her relentless drive to succeed, Stella decided to be proactive and approached Tara. "Good morning, Tara," she said. Tara was unresponsive. She was aware that Stella had been staring at her all morning, probably planning something. She gathered her thoughts and said, "You've been staring at me all morning.

Just speak your mind." Stella mumbled gently and said, "I sprained my ankle, so it looks like I'll have to trouble you from now on." Tara continued to eat and simply hummed in response. Stella struggled to maintain her composure as she watched Tara eat happily. With her sprained ankle, Tara took on more work. After all, Tara had been eager to win them over, and now she finally had the chance. "Can you handle it by yourself?" she asked.

"The housekeepers who were newly transferred here are great. Maybe you could ask Gemma or Mr. Oakley to arrange for them to help you." Without saying another word, Tara picked up her phone to call Gemma. Stella's eyelids twitched. "What are you doing?" Tara calmly replied, "I'm calling Gemma directly. You can talk to her." Caught off guard, Stella hurried to intervene, breathing a sigh of relief as she stopped her in the nick of time. "Don't be cross," she cautioned firmly.

Tara looked at her expressionlessly. "Wasn't that your suggestion? If you care about me, then talk to Gemma directly." Stella was left speechless. Of course, she didn't actually care about Tara. Tara was completely at a loss for words, not knowing how to manipulate her next move. Tara ended the call abruptly, finished the rest of her breakfast, and stood up to leave. Stella wasn't giving up. "Tara, you're working too hard by yourself." Tara casually brushed off her concern.

"It's not ideal, but she'll give me a month's salary as a bonus." Stella's darkening expression betrayed her simmering rage. Watching Tara leave, she let out her anger by slamming her hand against the armrest of her wheelchair. It was becoming increasingly clear to her that Tara had grown utterly impervious to her schemes, making her harder to control than ever. After finishing breakfast, Tara washed her hands and checked the time; it was 7 a.m.

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She almost forgot she needed to bring Lance his milk. She warmed a cup of milk, set it on a tray, and carried it upstairs to Lance's room. Finding the living room empty, she decided to leave the milk on the coffee table and leave. But Lance's voice rang out from the bedroom as though he had anticipated her thoughts. "Bring it in." Tara had just placed the milk down when she hesitated and said, "It wouldn't be convenient for me to come in.

I've left your milk on the coffee table." After a moment of silence and no reply, she took it as his tacit approval and left the room with the tray. She headed back downstairs and immediately started delivering breakfast to the second floor. She was so busy that she barely had time to catch her breath, but with the raise she'd gotten, this much work meant nothing. Even double the load wouldn't faze her. Thankfully, unlike last night, bringing breakfast to them today went off without a hitch.

She quickly dropped off each meal and left their rooms without any issues. Tara pushed the meal cart back into the kitchen and handed it off to the housekeeper in charge of cleaning and sanitizing. Then she stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in the hallway, stretching out her sore muscles. The vacation villa's butler, Russell Robertson, approached her. "Tara," Russell said. Tara turned and greeted him. "Good morning, Mr. Robertson." Russell smiled. "You did well yesterday.

Your bonus will be issued along with this month's salary." Ecstatic, Tara felt like her luck with money was on fire. It was so good that it felt surreal. Overjoyed, she quickly thanked him. "Thank you, Mr. Robertson." Impressed by her efficiency, Russell encouraged her. "Keep it up. They will surely invest in you well." Tara nodded eagerly several times. The four men had lunch downstairs at noon. Tara, along with three housekeepers, took responsibility for serving the meals.

Hiring new housekeepers required background checks, and the villa's remote location made it hard to find qualified candidates on short notice. The three housekeepers had originally been assigned to other duties at the villa but were temporarily reassigned to help. Tara continued to serve them. When Ren saw she had chosen to ask again, his mood turned sour. After eating, he went upstairs to work on his music.

A nervous housekeeper nearby accidentally dropped a fork onto the floor, landing directly behind Tara. Tara barely flinched and said, "It's okay. Keep working, it's fine." The housekeeper behind Jonah cast a grateful look at Tara. As Tara bent down to pick up the fork, the curve of her wrist was revealed. Her pale, smooth skin provided a striking contrast against the blue of her attire. Just as she placed the fork on the cart, she turned and found herself face-to-face with a man.

Surprise flickered across her face as she momentarily froze. At that moment, Sam had risen from his seat. His towering figure, bathed in the light, gave him an almost enigmatic presence. The golden rims of his glasses and the shadowed gaze behind them masked any hint of emotion. Deciding not to dwell on the moment, believing it was in his way, she stepped aside to clear the path.