---- Chapter 74 Tara, standing in the living room, paused as Shawn's voice called out to her clearly. Concerned something might be wrong, she quickly responded , "What is it, Mr. Wilhelm?" "Come here. I need your help." Tara walked hesitantly toward the entrance of his bedroom. "Mr. Wilhelm, is something wrong?" Had he fallen in the bathroom? Yet, she hadn't heard any loud noise. "I left my bathrobe on the bed.

Could you hand it to me?" His tone was so unassuming that Tara found it difficult to refuse. Yet, after her unsettling encounter with Soren, she had begun keeping her guard up around them. Shawn, ever perceptive, couldn't possibly have forgotten his bathrobe. Even if he had, he could've waited until she left to retrieve it, having the privacy to move freely around his room.

Tara didn't think of herself as particularly captivating - after all, when the original host had tried to flirt with them, they had reacted with visible disgust. These men weren't known for romantic relationships ; ---- she was just a housekeeper , with no conceivable reason for them to take interest in her. And still, after dealing with Soren's advances, Tara remained cautious. She wouldn't be able to handle another situation like his.

After a moment's deliberation, Tara stepped into the bedroom. She took the white bathrobe from the bed, shielding her eyes with her left hand and keeping her gaze lowered as she approached the bathroom. Standing at the entrance to the bathroom , she fidgeted nervously . "M-Mr. Wilhelm , I brought your bathrobe ," she stammered. Shawn's voice, still gentle , responded from behind the closed door.

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"Just hang it on the rack beside you." Relieved the door had remained closed, Tara quickly dropped her hand. Her cheeks burned as she answered, " Okay." After hanging the bathrobe on the rack, Tara couldn't shake a pang of guilt. Shawn clearly had no ulterior motives, simply asking her for help. Realizing she'd misjudged him, Tara felt regretful. Shawn had always treated her with respect, never overstepping boundaries , and had even quietly assisted her on several occasions.

"I've hung it up," she called. "I'll head out now. Dinner's ---- already on the table." "Thanks for the trouble ," Shawn answered from inside the bathroom. "It's nothing," she replied, exiting his bedroom and pushing the meal cart out. She parked the cart by the elevator and went downstairs to grab dinner during a brief moment of free time. In the lounge on the first floor, Tara sat down to eat.

Normally, she ate slowly, a childhood habit meant to aid digestion, but given the demands of her work, she hurried through her meal. As she ate, Stella wheeled herself over, her expression concerned . "Tara, have you been managing okay these past two days?" she asked. Tara glanced at her. "It's manageable." "I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you before.

C-Can you forgive me?" Stella's voice trembled with emotion , her pale and delicate complexion lending her a pitiful air as she sat in her wheelchair. She seemed genuinely remorseful. Tara paused her eating and studied Stella with mild curiosity. "What are you doing? I'm eating here," she said flatly. ---- She then returned her attention to her plate, scooping up bites of grilled eel and rice.

The eel, of exceptional quality, was undoubtedly a treat, but her tight schedule left little time to savor it. Stella blinked, momentarily stunned. Tara seemed completely engrossed in her food, detached from the heartfelt apology being offered. Undeterred, Stella pressed on. "So... Can you forgive me?" Without looking up, Tara responded plainly, "Not a chance." "But you poured me a glass of warm water when I sprained my ankle. Weren't you extending an olive branch?"