---- Chapter 76 Shawn's calm and considerate tone brought Tara back to herself. She turned around with a smile. "It's nothing. 1 haven't been resting well these past two days. I must have run out of steam." His voice carried a soothing effect. "You should rest earlier tonight." Tara maintained her smile and nodded. "Goodnight, Mr. Wilhelm." Shawn watched as the door opened and then closed.

His gentle facade remained perfectly in place, yet under the light, an eerie shadow crept across his handsome features. Downstairs , Tara wheeled the meal cart to the kitchen's cleaning area before heading back to her room to end her shift. She slumped into a chair, sinking into it like a puddle of exhaustion. Would Soren really ask Russell for her size?

If he did, she couldn't even begin to imagine the consequences, let alone predict whether she would end up on the same path as the original owner of this body. She refused to believe Soren's claim that she couldn't ---- escape him. In four months, her contract would end, and she wouldn't be working there anymore. Once she left, Soren couldn't possibly go out of his way to track her down. She wasn't charming enough for that. 2 Tara didn't take his words to heart.

She just hoped he wouldn't cause her trouble. Otherwise, she wouldn't know what to do. + After a hot shower, she changed into a light camisole nightdress. The central AC system had been running warm since the afternoon , and she was already feeling parched. Sleeping in long-sleeved pajamas would be unbearable. She opened the window, letting in some fresh air to cool the room. Late at night, Tara turned over drowsily in her sleep, her brows knitting together.

In her dream, a man was pressing her down onto the couch and pinning her wrists above her head. She jolted awake, her entire body weak and drenched in a thin layer of sweat. Her mind was still tangled in the dream, leaving her feeling utterly drained. Tara realized she had had the same dream for two or three nights. She thought it might be connected to recent ---- events, especially since the man in her dream was Soren. As she recalled her dream, her ears burned with heat.

She reassured herself that it was just a normal physiological reaction. She turned over and drifted back to sleep, though her rest remained fitful. Without warning, someone began to knock. With a heavy head, Tara sat up, her eyes remaining closed. The knocking registered faintly, and she lingered in the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, questioning its reality. The knocking recurred. This time, she was more alert. It seemed someone was really at her door.

Still groggy from sleep, she shuffled over, peeked through the peephole, and saw Lance. Without much thought, Tara opened the door and rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. Her voice came out soft and groggy. "Mr. Swain, it's after hours for me. Do you need something?" She waited for a response, but he remained silent. His silence drew her fully awake. Could something have happened? Lance's penetrating gaze bore into her like a predator ---- eyeing its prey.

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His eyes carried a faint crimson hue. Tara stood before him in her light blue camisole nightdress, the silky fabric clinging to her body due to static. It accentuated her soft curves and pale skin, while the short hem revealed her long, slender legs. Still muddled from sleep, she had clearly forgotten how revealing her attire was. Seeing Lance still silent, she called out again, "Mr. Swain? His voice was deeper than usual. "Make me a bowl of hangover soup and bring it to my room.

I'll pay you extra. And change into something else." With that, he turned and walked toward the stairs. Tara thought Lance barely smelled of alcohol. And why did he ask her to change into something else? She was wearing pajamas- She looked down at herself, and in an instant, all traces of sleep vanished. Her cheeks flushed with mortification, Tara quickly pulled the door closed, her heart hammering against her ribs.

The realization that Lance had likely seen her ina nightdress filled her with dismay. She couldn't even worry about whether he might think ---- she was seducing him; all she wanted to do was crawl into ahole. Frustrated, Tara changed into another set of clothes before making the bowl of hangover soup and bringing it upstairs. She checked the time. It was 3:00 am. She knocked several times on Lance's door and waited for a response before twisting the doorknob and walking in. "Mr.

Swain, your soup is ready." In a black shirt and pants, Lance exuded a cool dignity. The slightly open collar offered a glimpse of his pale, toned chest. He looked up at her, and his thin lips parted slightly. " Sorry for waking you up at this hour." + Tara didn't think it was a big deal since he was paying her extra. "It's fine. You should get some rest after you finish it" Lance was silent as he gazed at her. Tara noticed the way he looked at her.

Still feeling awkward about what had happened earlier, she turned to leave. "I'll go back downstairs now." "Tara, about being my girlfriend , have you given it any more thought?" + ---- Lance's sudden question made her want to bolt out of the room. But she knew that even if she ran out now, she'd still have to face him tomorrow, the day after, and the following months. There was no avoiding this. She sighed internally . She had assumed the matter was already over.

But clearly, it was only over for her. She turned back around and stared at the floor. "Mr. Swain, we could never be together. I don't have any romantic feelings for you." It was the second time she'd told him that. Lance didn't seem fazed. "That's alright. It's enough that Ilike you." "Of course it's not alright. I don't plan on being in a relationship." 2 When Lance looked at her again, his eyes revealed a stark possessiveness. It made Tara's heart skip in alarm. He spoke slowly.

"Tara, I'm being nice right now. You'd better be obedient." © His dark and dangerous tone wrapped around her like a vice. Tara's eyes widened in fear, and her hands tightened around the tray. She stepped back and said, "I-I'm going back downstairs to rest." ---- With that, she ran out of the room. Behind her, Lance calmly unbuttoned his shirt, as if her panic and rejection meant nothing to him. +