Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

Chapter 940

"Look," Francis started, a hint of concern in his voice that was rare for someone of his usually stoic demeanor, "Nanson's a bright kid." Younger than Edwin Morris, a whiz in the legal field handling divorce cases-it felt like an overkill.

"By the way," Rebecca White snapped back to reality, "Mr. Johnson, you've got things to do, right? Just drop me off at the next corner." "No need," Francis shook his head, his expression softening a bit. "I'm off the clock. I'll go with you."

He was heading home; she was off to work.

"...Oh."

Rebecca White nodded, a bit dazed, realizing her shoes were still in his grasp. Embarrassed, she took them back.

"Thanks, sorry for the trouble."

"Mhm."

Francis's gaze dropped to her feet. "The heel's broken. Your foot okay? Didn't twist it, did you?"

Rebecca White paused, hurriedly tucking her foot away, shaking her head. "No, it's fine."

"Mhm."

Francis, ever the man of few words, didn't press further.

The car fell into silence.

Rebecca White held her shoes tight, anxiously wishing they'd reach Johnson Mansion soon. Being alone with him was overwhelmingly intense.

Her heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest, her palms sweaty.

was silent until they

car stopped in front of the main

to slip on her shoes, wincing slightly as

her ankle and hadn't told

made the pain

the faint sound, looked

Rebecca White quickly shook her

briefly passing over her ankle before he

"Come on in then."

"Ms. White!"

Rebecca White. "Ms.

"Really? That's amazing!"

and Rebecca White, despite

White, come

show

Francis's brow furrowed

nearly lost

An hour later.

Rebecca White came downstairs.

and it was time for her

with her injured ankle, the rail for

swno

step.

she let out

"Ms. White."