Erik, Brad's assistant, stepped out of a sleek black car, adjusting the cuff of his suit with meticulous precision. He briefly glanced at the dark skies with practised indifference. Erik's calm presence contrasted sharply with the frenzy that awaited him, but even that did not invoke any reaction from the solemn expression on his face.
Cameras clicked. Microphones surged forward like grasping hands. Reporters shouted questions, their voices tripping over each other in a desperate race for soundbites, but the man didn't flinch. He didn't pause, nor did he even blink.
He walked through the tide of press with the kind of cool, collected stride that only came from years of walking in the shadow of power, and often being the one to hold its leash. Currey would have usually handled this task, but Ian had decided to let Brad handle it in its entirety, hence why Erik was there.
Like a miracle, the crowd of reporters parted.
"Is he going to make a statement?"
