When Love Turns Dangerous novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The evening sunlight seeped through the curtains, illuminating the couch where Lance lay. He slowly opened his eyes, his forehead creased in discomfort.

As he lifted his hand to rub his throbbing temple, his gaze landed on the couch across from him, and he went completely still.

Tara lay there, half-reclined in serene sleep. Even in rest, her beauty was undeniable, her delicate features as captivating as ever. Her work uniform clung to her figure, accentuating every graceful curve.

It was impossible not to stare. Lance’s eyes lingered on her long, slender legs. They seemed so soft that they seemed like they might turn red at the slightest pressure.

His expression grew solemn, his thoughts unreadable.

Beside him, Stella stirred and woke. She became fully alert when she saw Lance’s open eyes.

“Mr. Swain, you’re awake?” she asked, her voice soft.

Lance shifted his attention from Tara, his voice coming out rough. “Yeah. Did Gemma send you two to keep an eye on me?”

As he spoke, Tara woke up, rubbing her eyes. Still groggy, she watched Lance check his watch.

Stella studied Tara, whose beauty gave her an almost radiant glow, and felt a flicker of irritation. But then she remembered Tara’s abrasive personality, and her worry faded.

“Gemma assigned us to stay with you—for your safety,” Stella said as she poured a glass of water for Lance.

Tara made no move to help. She thought rushing to pour the water would’ve seemed like she was just trying to curry favor with Lance, which wasn’t necessary.

After all, this moment was meant to be a heartfelt exchange between the female lead and the four male leads. As the story’s villainess, Tara had no place to intrude.

So she remained where she was, acting as a passive observer in the background.

While pouring the water, Stella stole another glance at Tara. Usually, Tara would be the first to jump in, eager to prove herself in front of the men.

Stella had braced for her to interfere and was even prepared to have the glass taken from her hands, but this time, Tara didn’t move. She simply sat across the room, suppressing a yawn, showing no interest in participating.

Lance followed Stella’s glance and turned his attention back to Tara.

She had just stifled a yawn behind her hand when she noticed them both staring at her. Her drowsy eyes darted between them, a faint hint of confusion flashing across her face.

She wondered if yawning was against the rules and thought that it seemed too ridiculous to be an actual policy.

Lance studied her carefully. He remembered how she used to strike deliberate poses in front of him, her words playful and loaded with innuendos.

But now, her gaze held nothing but utter, almost naive innocence—so much so that it made him scowl. He didn’t know what kind of reverse psychology tactic she was employing.

“Leave,” Lance said coldly to Tara.

The room went silent. Stella didn’t dare make a sound. She glanced at Lance, then at Tara, her satisfaction barely hidden. She expected Tara to be mortified—maybe even to burst into tears.

Instead, Tara rose immediately, showing no offense or distress. If anything, she seemed almost eager to leave.

“Right away, Mr. Swain,” she replied briskly.

Under Lance’s and Stella’s watchful gazes, Tara left the room without a second thought.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, she let out a heavy sigh, grateful to escape Lance’s oppressive presence, where every move had made her feel like she was under scrutiny.

Feeling lighter, she hurried down the stairs. The housekeepers had already finished for the day, leaving the villa quiet as night settled in.

Tara still had work to do, so she couldn’t head back to her room just yet. If Terence Oakley, the butler, noticed, he would dock her wages.

Meanwhile, only Lance and Stella remained in his room upstairs. Stella was too shy to look him in the eye.

Lance rubbed his forehead, saying, “You can go, too. I don’t need anyone watching over me.”

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