Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 184

"Sit."

Willow's footsteps faltered.

Usually, even when he was being cold, he'd at least glance her way.

Not today.

She placed her purse beside her, perching nervously on the edge of the sofa. "Lawrence, you wanted to see me?"

Lawrence slid a project rectification notice across his desk.

Willow looked down at it.

The outsourced PR team for the Langford rehabilitation project had been suspended.

All patient testimonial assets were to undergo immediate re-evaluation.

The release of any unauthorized project information was strictly prohibited.

Her finger hovered over the final line.

"Is this because of the anonymous post last night?"

Lawrence finally looked up.

"You caught on fast."

Willow's face drained of color as she met his gaze. "So many people saw it at the banquet. How could I not know?"

Lawrence said nothing. He just stared at her.

His piercing gaze made her stomach churn.

It wasn't the way a man looked at a woman; it was the way an executive scrutinized a glaring loophole in a contract.

She lowered her eyes, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Are you suspecting me?"

Lawrence picked up his pen and slashed a harsh line across a document.

"What do you think?"

The rims of Willow's eyes slowly began to redden.

This time, the tears came slower than usual.

As if she had tried to hold them back but failed.

"I know Wren doesn't like me. And lately, because of her, you've been unhappy with me, too." She placed her hand over the edge of the document. "But why would I leak a photo of her at an event like that? If anything happened to her, everyone's first instinct would be to blame me."

Lawrence remained silent.

Willow bit her lip.

"I'm not that stupid."

That particular sentence sounded completely genuine.

Lawrence kept his eyes locked on her, as if trying to strip away her facade.

Under his oppressive stare, a tight knot formed in Willow's chest. She stood up abruptly. "If you don't believe me, I can show you my phone."

She placed her phone on the desk.

Screen facing up.

Flawlessly clean.

She had wiped it clean before she arrived.

Chat histories, photos, browsing data—everything that could be deleted, was. The real evidence wasn't even on this device.

Lawrence glanced at the phone but didn't touch it.

Once signed, Willow set the pen down.

"Is there anything else?"

Lawrence pursed his lips and commanded, "From now on, all project matters go through Jude Sinclair first. Don't hire outsourced agencies on your own."

Willow snapped her head up.

"You're taking this away from me, too?"

"You're not capable of handling it."

A brutal verdict. No room for argument.

Willow's face turned completely ashen.

The office fell so quiet that the faint hum of the air conditioning sounded deafening.

She slowly picked up her purse, her fingers digging into the soft leather.

"I understand."

She paused just as she reached the door.

"Lawrence."

Lawrence didn't look up.

Staring at his rigid profile, Willow suddenly let out a hollow laugh.

It was soft, devoid of any real amusement.

"Even if you treat me like this, Wren is never coming back."

Lawrence's hand froze on the page.