Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 420

Wren pressed on, "Besides, most of those misunderstandings are deliberately manufactured by people exactly like you."

Phoebe practically burst out laughing.

A cool, amused glint surfaced in Harrison's eyes as well.

Gavin's face tightened, though he desperately tried to maintain his urbane facade.

"You really don't hold back anymore, do you, Ms. Whitaker?"

"Courtesy is reserved for those who earn it."

The moment those words dropped, the air around them seemed to freeze.

Lawrence stared at her, his tone dropping dangerously low. "Wren."

Wren met his gaze head-on. "If Mr. Langford wishes to discuss the gala itinerary, I'm available. If you're looking for courtesy, don't bother."

Mr. Langford.

Right here, in front of his friends, his partners, the media, and a room full of guests, she had scrubbed their relationship completely clean.

Lawrence's expression turned glacial.

Gavin muttered under his breath, "You let her get away with too much."

Lawrence snapped his head toward him.

"Shut up."

Gavin flinched, stunned.

Lawrence didn't spare him another glance, turning all his attention back to Wren. "I've already ordered the organizers to pull the Vivian Vance tribute. We will not be co-launching the initiative."

Wren's tone remained utterly flat. "But her name is still on the schedule."

Lawrence fell silent.

Wren held his gaze. "Langford Medical has absolutely no right to memorialize a woman whose formal objections you buried and whose voice you silenced. At least, not until the truth is fully exposed."

Lawrence's Adam's apple bobbed.

"I am investigating it."

"You do your investigating," Wren replied coolly. "And I'll do my protecting."

For a brief second, their eyes locked in a silent standoff.

People around them were already staring, but no one dared approach.

The suffocating tension was finally broken when the host announced it was time for guests to take their seats.

Wren's assigned seat was at the Stellaris project table.

It was nowhere near Lawrence's spot at The Head Table.

She verified her name card before sitting down.

Phoebe slid into the seat to her left and whispered, "Thank God they didn't have the nerve to sit you next to him."

Wren placed her folder on the table. "It wasn't a lack of nerve. It's because Mr. Lawson is sitting near the entrance."

Phoebe followed her gaze and spotted the lawyer seated in a row further back, calmly reviewing his documents.

"Having a lawyer on standby is brilliant."

"Having the evidence is better."

The gala officially kicked off.

The host took the stage, delivering a flawlessly warm opening monologue. The massive screen played a short film on pediatric rehabilitation, followed by a speech from the organizers.

When Lawrence stepped up as the Langford representative, the ballroom lights dimmed, and a spotlight pinned him to the stage.

Dressed in a sharp black suit, he looked exactly like the untouchable corporate titan everyone expected. Cool, commanding, and completely unaffected, as if no personal turmoil could ever touch him.

He spoke of Langford's investments in rehabilitation, the social responsibility of charity, and announced that their family support system would soon be subject to third-party oversight.

At the mention of 'third-party oversight', Clara looked up from her table.

Lawrence paused for a beat.

"Charity cannot be driven by good intentions alone. Compassion without boundaries eventually turns into collateral damage."

The statement caught many off guard.

Even Wren glanced up at him.

He didn't look at her.

Or rather, he refused to look at her in front of a thousand witnesses.

Lawrence continued, "Langford Medical welcomes regulatory oversight, and we welcome the opportunity to correct our mistakes."

Her presentation lasted exactly seven minutes.

Short, but devastatingly clear.

On the final slide, she left the audience with a single sentence.

Data must serve the patient.

As thunderous applause erupted, Lawrence stared at her, completely paralyzed.

He remembered the torn page from Vivian's memo: Pediatric rehabilitation data cannot be interpreted outside its original clinical context.

Separated by over a decade, a mother and daughter were fighting the exact same battle, just using different methods.

The Langford family had crushed the mother's voice.

And tonight, he had nearly traded the daughter's voice to protect his own PR.

Stepping down from the stage, Wren didn't spare Lawrence a single glance.

She returned to the Stellaris table, where Phoebe handed her a glass of warm water.

"Flawless."

Wren took the glass. "It's not over yet."

She glanced down at the itinerary.

The Langford Medical Pediatric Data Ethics Initiative Launch was next.

Vivian's name was still printed on the upcoming page.

The ballroom lights shifted colors, and the host stepped back to the podium.

"Next, we move to a very special segment of tonight's gala..."

Wren set her glass down and opened her folder.

The edge of the blue 'Opt-Out' button peeked out.

She pressed her fingertips gently against it.

If they insisted on dragging Vivian's name through the mud.

She was going to stop them dead in their tracks.