Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 178

Lydia raised her hand to slap her.

She stopped halfway.

Willow didn't even flinch.

Looking at her mother's bloodshot eyes, Willow found the whole situation darkly comedic.

Everyone in this house was terrified.

Quentin was terrified of his past crimes seeing the light of day.

Lydia was terrified of her old "homewrecker" reputation being dragged back through the mud.

And Willow was terrified that after clawing her way to Lawrence's side, people would point at her and sneer: *You snuck into the Langford family the exact same way your mother snuck into the Whitakers'.*

No one had ever said it to her face.

But she knew they were thinking it.

Wren didn't even have to open her mouth.

Just by standing there, she reminded everyone exactly who Willow really was.

The sound of a door opening upstairs broke the silence.

Quentin emerged from the study, his face dark with fury.

He was in his loungewear, his phone gripped tightly in his hand.

"Are you two done screaming?"

Lydia instantly lowered her voice. "Quentin."

Willow looked up, hastily smoothing out her expression. "Dad."

Quentin descended the stairs, not sparing a single glance at her damp dress.

"You went to the Langford gala tonight to secure your position, not to drag our family into a scandal."

Willow bit her lip.

"I didn't start any scandal."

Quentin let out a cold scoff. "Then how exactly does Wren know about The Cobalt Folder?"

"Scott Clarke fed her the information."

"And why would Scott Clarke suddenly feed her information?"

Willow opened her mouth to argue, but ultimately clamped it shut.

Quentin glared at her. "I warned you a long time ago not to get too deeply entangled in Langford business. Lawrence hasn't even divorced her yet. What exactly is your status beside him? Did a few empty compliments from high society actually trick you into thinking your position is secure?"

The words stung worse than any physical slap Lydia could have delivered.

Willow went ghostly pale.

Willow didn't pick up the phone.

She asked softly, "Dad, is it still in the house?"

Quentin's eyes narrowed.

"Is what still here?"

"The Cobalt Folder."

"I don't know."

Willow stared at him.

Quentin avoided her gaze, turning to bark an order at a maid in the hall: "When Wren gets here tomorrow, do not let her upstairs."

"What if she brings a lawyer?" Lydia asked nervously.

"This is the Whitaker estate." Quentin's voice hardened. "What's she going to do? Tear the place down?"

Willow finally leaned over and picked up her phone.

A hairline crack had splintered across the screen.

She traced the crack with her thumb and quietly said, "She isn't alone anymore."

Quentin turned back to her.