The atmosphere was tense and the air was thick with unease. Davis, on his wheelchair sat still, fists clenching and unclenching in rhythmic tension as the murmurs around the gala grew louder.
Every passing second heightened the pressure. Time was slipping, and he had to fix this mess before it spiraled further.
The online scandal had cast a long, dark shadow over what was meant to be a triumphant night.
With none of his team present and no solid evidence to refute the damaging narrative spreading online, there was no clear way to contain the growing unease at the gala.
A temporary solution had to be enacted fast and damage control was all he could think of now.
He exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temples. The throbbing there mirrored the urgency pulsing through his mind.
"Call the manager over," he said coldly, the authority in his voice slicing through the panic. "He's got a role to play if we're going to buy some time."
