Chapter 54
Sterling watched the emotions play across Willow's face as her initial excitement faded.
"Is there another problem?" he asked, puzzled. This was the first time he'd seen someone hesitate at the opportunity to join the Lancaster Group.
Willow felt ungrateful for her reaction.
Charles had suddenly crossed her mind—if he discovered she was working at the Lancaster Group, who knew what trouble he might cause? She didn't want to create problems for Sterling.
"Thank you for your confidence in me, Uncle Sterling," she said softly, eyes downcast. "But with my current qualifications, I don't think I'm up to Lancaster Group standards."
She truly believed this. Even if Sterling recognized her abilities, her resume would pale compared to their typical talent pool. Accepting the position might even subject him to criticism.
In the front seat, Blake couldn't help glancing at Willow through the rearview mirror.
He'd never seen anyone turn down an opportunity to work at the Lancaster Group—especially a personal invitation from Sterling himself!
"Ms. Spencer, perhaps you should—" Blake began, about to suggest she reconsider this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
"No need to answer now," Sterling interrupted. "Take some time to think it over. When you decide, contact Blake directly if you're interested."
Blake swallowed his words, stealing another glance at Willow. Surely she wouldn't refuse after his boss had gone to such lengths?
"Thank you, Uncle Sterling," Willow replied, genuinely surprised by his persistence. "I'll give it serious thought."
Sterling fell silent after that, and the rest of the journey passed without conversation.
When they reached her apartment complex, Willow thanked Sterling once more, stepped out, and watched from the entrance as they drove away.
After they'd gone some distance, Blake couldn't contain himself any longer. "Mr. Lancaster..."
"Speak," Sterling said simply.
Blake hesitated before carefully continuing, "Aren't you being unusually attentive to Ms. Spencer?"
From the beginning, when Sterling had agreed to meet with Gareth, Blake had found it strange. Now he was personally inviting Willow to join the company.
While Blake acknowledged her talent, Sterling's behavior was remarkably uncharacteristic.
The lingering scent of Willow—sweet and warm—still filled the car.
Sterling, feeling an unfamiliar drowsiness, replied, "Consider it payment for her massage."
Besides, he genuinely admired her confidence—confidence that her abilities actually justified.
Hearing the fatigue in his boss's voice, Blake recalled Sterling's recent struggles with insomnia, and how Willow's massage seemed to provide relief. Someone who could solve such a persistent problem certainly deserved gratitude.
Blake found himself wishing he could personally persuade Willow to join immediately, if only to provide Sterling with daily massages.
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Unaware of their conversation, Willow turned toward her building after watching Sterling's car disappear into the distance.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached from behind.
Her instincts sensed danger, but before she could react, Charles's accusatory voice reached her, "Why are you with Uncle Sterling at this hour?"
In the darkness, he gripped her wrist tightly, his expression full of suspicion.
Willow felt momentary relief at recognizing him, followed immediately by disgust at his question.
"Let go of me," she said coldly, not bothering to ask how he'd found her address. With his resources, discovering such information would be trivial.
Charles tightened his grip. "You haven't answered me. Why were you with Uncle Sterling? You're so determined to leave me—is it because—"
Willow finally snapped. "What answer do you want to hear?"
She turned to face him with a mocking smile. "Yes, Uncle Sterling and I have been seeing each other behind your back. We've done everything you're imagining and more. He just dropped me off after our latest rendezvous. Satisfied?"
She stared at him coldly.
Charles's expression shifted several times. He knew she was being sarcastic, but even so, he couldn't help feeling agitated.
He hated seeing Willow with any other man—especially Sterling.
He wanted to explode, but feared pushing her further away.
"Willow..." Charles softened his tone and loosened his grip. "Don't be angry. I was wrong to suspect you and Uncle Sterling. It's just that seeing you together so late, I couldn't help but worry."
He moved closer, trying to embrace her.
Willow stepped back, avoiding his hands. "Really? Yet I'm supposed to believe nothing's happening whenever you're with Rachel, no matter how long you're together."
It had been this way even before their marriage. Whenever Rachel encountered any problem or shed a few tears, Charles would put on a troubled face for Willow's benefit, then go comfort Rachel.
Whenever Willow expressed discomfort, Charles would insist they were just like siblings.
Year after year, he forced Willow to accept Rachel as this supposed sister-figure.
And then came the devastating blow on their wedding night.
"That's..." Charles tried to defend himself, but suddenly felt guilty.
"She's your sister, and I should understand and trust you," Willow recited his familiar excuses. "Isn't Uncle Sterling your elder too?"
Charles looked at her with complicated emotions. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Willow seemed different now—her words like tiny needles pricking his heart.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The air around them seemed to freeze.
Seeing Charles avoid her gaze, Willow suddenly felt exhausted.
"Gareth took me to a business dinner. The client tried to pressure me to drink. I left, ran into Uncle Sterling, and he gave me a ride home. That's all." She explained calmly.
Charles immediately found a target for his frustration. "Which client? How dare Gareth take you to such an event? Haven't I made my position clear enough?"
Willow took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I've said what I needed to say. Let go. I need to rest."
Charles still wouldn't release her. "Willow, I'm genuinely worried about you..."
Her eyes fell to his hand, noticing a pink bandage—undoubtedly Rachel's handiwork. They'd been together again today.
"It's getting late," Willow said flatly. "You should go. Rachel will be worried."