When Love Turns Dangerous novel Chapter 118

Tara followed her new colleagues to a dinner gathering. They arrived at a private room in a restaurant, and she sat in the most inconspicuous seat.

Mark stood up and raised his glass. "Today, we're celebrating Tara joining us. Let's work hard together in the days ahead."

A female colleague beside Tara quietly told her, "You drink wine. This one tastes good and won't get you drunk easily. They're drinking vodka. Just ignore them if they try to make you drink vodka."

Tara nodded. She then poured herself a glass of wine and toasted with everyone.

Considering that she was a woman, Mark said, "The men will toast. The ladies can do as they please."

Tara took a sip of wine—it really did taste good. In her previous life, she could handle about three drinks. But she rarely drank—maybe once in several years.

The male colleagues and Mark got loud and rowdy as the dinner went on. Meanwhile, the female colleagues chatted while eating and drinking. They would occasionally advise the men not to drink too much.

Tara ate while occasionally sipping the wine because it tasted pretty good. What she didn't expect was that the original host had such a poor tolerance that even a little alcohol would knock her out. Once the wine took effect, she collapsed onto the table, completely drunk.

Both the female colleague beside her and Mark, who was mid-drink, were stunned. Everyone at the table stared at her in shock.

Mark asked the female colleague next to Tara, "Did you give her vodka?"

The female colleague shook her head. "No, I recommended the wine to her."

She looked bewildered as she picked up the half-finished wine bottle. The label showed an alcohol content of 9%.

Mark scratched his head while muttering in surprise, "I've never seen someone with such ridiculously low alcohol tolerance."

Tara had only what, not even two small glasses?

The female colleague, confused, downed two glasses of the same wine. But she didn't feel the slightest bit tipsy.

She also found it hard to believe someone could have such a low alcohol tolerance.

"Does anyone know where Tara lives?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"She's probably filled it out on her résumé, but I don't know exactly which building she lives in."

Just as they were trying to figure out how to get her home, the private room door opened.

Everyone turned toward it, and a refined, elegant figure appeared. Once they saw who it was, everyone immediately stood up and respectfully greeted, "Good evening, Mr. Wilhelm."

Mark hadn't expected Shawn to show up at their gathering. He quickly plastered on a smile and stepped forward.

"Mr. Wilhelm, we've reserved a seat for you. Would you like to have a drink?"

The others thought that Mark really knew how to handle things. If it were them, their first reaction would have been to ask Shawn, "Why are you here? What are you doing here?"

Shawn's mild gaze fell on the drunk Tara, who was slumped over the table. His brows drew together in displeasure.

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