Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 367

Tonight, he didn't immediately respond.

Willow's fingers slowly tightened, feeling the subtle tension in his leg muscles right through his slacks.

Looking up at him, a tear perfectly slid down her cheek.

"Are you throwing me away too?"

Lawrence's Adam's apple bobbed.

The night outside the window was heavy, the glass reflecting their silhouettes. One seated, one kneeling before him, looking intimate enough to be a perfectly choreographed play.

He knew she was acting.

At least partly.

But he didn't push her away.

Wren's legal letter, Gavin Shaw's teasing, Langford Medical's missing files, and Leo relaxing in Julian York's presence—it was all piling up on his chest. Willow's proximity felt like an old, familiar road. It wasn't a good road, but it didn't require any thinking.

He reached out and pinched her chin.

"You better hope you truly don't know too much."

Willow's eyelashes fluttered.

"I wouldn't lie to you."

Lawrence looked at her and let out a low laugh.

There was hardly any warmth in the sound.

"Is that right?"

Willow's heart clenched, but she quickly raised her arms to wrap them around his neck.

She knew exactly when to cry, when to soften, and when to let a man's suspicion morph into desire.

The lights stayed on.

Only the sound of rustling fabric and hushed breaths filled the living room. As she leaned into his embrace, Willow's gaze slipped over his shoulder, locking onto the overturned folder on the coffee table.

She didn't love Lawrence.

Maybe she had been somewhat infatuated with him a long time ago.

Infatuated with the status he gave her, the resources he provided, the triumphant high of standing in front of Wren with him by her side.

But now, that infatuation had been entirely sanded down by raw ambition.

Lawrence was merely a ladder.

A tall ladder, and a dangerous one.

But if she wanted to climb to the top, she couldn't be afraid of the fall.

Deep into the night, Lawrence finally fell asleep.

*Vivian Vance objects to handing over raw child rehabilitation data to third parties, citing ambiguous vendor qualifications and risks of secondary market transactions.*

Third parties.

Secondary market transactions.

Willow's fingertips grew slightly cold.

She read further down. The next line was warped by a water stain, leaving only a few broken words.

*Vanguard...*

*Transfer...*

Her breath hitched.

Vanguard Trading Co.

The company registered under Quentin Whitaker's name.

Now she understood why the Whitakers were in full panic mode.

The data outsourcing Vivian had opposed was likely tied to Vanguard. Unit 3 hadn't been hiding old furniture; it had been hiding the old files, contracts, and potentially the proof of the Whitakers' dirty hands in it.

She quickly photographed the page and set the file exactly as it had been.

Just as she turned around, Lawrence's voice drifted from behind her.