Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 328

Jude Sinclair could manage the risks.

The marketing department could draft the PR releases.

But when it came to a public face for the project, they still needed her.

She saw the situation perfectly clearly.

"Has Jude seen this?" Lawrence asked.

"Not yet," Willow replied. "He's had some misunderstandings about me lately. I was worried if I handed it to him directly, he'd veto it right out of the gate."

Lawrence closed the folder.

"If he vetoes it, he usually has a valid reason."

Willow's face paled for a split second.

A few months ago, he would never have spoken to her like that.

Back then, Jude was just a project manager in his eyes, while Willow was the one who needed his protection.

Now, he was taking Jude's side.

A chill ran through her, but she didn't let a fraction of it show on her face.

"I know." She nodded gently. "That's why I came to you. I'm not asking you to just hand me the reins. I'm asking for a chance to run an internal pilot. If I can't deliver, I'll step down myself."

Lawrence stared at her.

The apartment was so quiet that only the faint hum of the desk lamp's electricity could be heard.

Willow didn't push him further.

She knew that, at times, being too greedy backfired. A man preferred to believe he was making the decision entirely on his own.

She stood up, reaching over to put the lid back on the thermos.

"If you really don't want to eat, I won't force you. I'll get out of your hair."

Just as she turned, Lawrence's hand clamped down on her wrist.

Willow stopped in her tracks.

His palm was cold, but his grip was firm.

"Did you really come here today just for the project?"

Willow looked back at him.

The corners of her eyes were slightly red, as if she had been holding back tears.

"What else do you want me to be here for?"

Lawrence didn't answer.

Willow slowly stepped closer, looking down at him.

"Lawrence, I know you've been having a hard time lately. Leo left, and Wren refuses to look back. Everyone is pointing out your mistakes, and even I disappointed you."

Her voice was like a silken thread, slipping past the files, the reports, and the cold hard facts, landing precisely on the insecurities he refused to admit.

"But I still wanted to come."

Lawrence's grip on her wrist tightened.

Sensing the shift, Willow leaned down, gently resting her forehead against his shoulder.

She didn't rush to kiss him.

She didn't cry.

She simply leaned against him, positioning herself as submissively as possible.

"You don't have to prove anything to me," she whispered. "I know how exhausted you are."

Lawrence closed his eyes.

Those words were a master key.

With Wren, every conversation forced him to confront his failures.

He had to confront his child's terror, the clinical evaluations, his history of absence, and his crossed boundaries.

But with Willow, he could dodge all of it for a moment.

She would excuse his embarrassment as exhaustion, spin his possessiveness as care, and frame his loss of control over Wren as tragic pain.

It was a toxic kind of tenderness.

But it worked.

Lawrence raised a hand and cupped the back of her neck.

Willow didn't pull away.

Jude replied almost instantly.

"This must be logged on the record and escalated as a project risk."

Willow's fingers hovered over the screen for a few seconds.

Then she typed:

"Jude, I know you don't trust me right now. But if you escalate this directly, the entire family companionship initiative could get axed. Give me one day. I'll verify the facts with the parties involved."

This time, Jude didn't reply right away.

Willow rested the phone on her lap.

The bathroom door opened, and Lawrence stepped out, surrounded by a cloud of steam.

When she looked up, her face had flawlessly shifted back to an expression of soft, exhausted affection.

"Lawrence," she asked gently, "will you let me run the pilot for the next phase?"

Lawrence looked at her for a long moment.

"Leave the proposal here."

The tight coil of anxiety in Willow's chest loosened slightly.

She stood up, walking over to wrap her arms around him.

"Thank you."

Lawrence didn't return the embrace, but he didn't push her away either.

Willow rested her cheek against his chest, her eyes entirely devoid of joy.

Only calculation remained.

She had to bury that grievance report before Jude dragged it into the light.

And she needed Lawrence to formally hand over the project to her as soon as possible.

Wren had Stellaris, her son, Daisy, Julian, and a whole army of people who truly listened to her.

Willow needed her own stage.

Even if that stage was already fracturing beneath her feet.