Jack’s POV
The weight of my words had barely settled when Dorsey turned to face the cameras, his expression shifting from hardened determination to controlled diplomacy—a politician’s mask slipping into place. The fluorescent lights of the press room buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across his angular features. He gave a short, clipped nod to his aides, who hovered like specters at the edge of the stage, then leaned into the forest of microphones crowding the podium.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice steady but strained, “I appreciate your patience, but due to unforeseen circumstances, this press conference is postponed.”
A wave of confusion erupted across the press corps. Reporters shot to their feet, voices overlapping in a cacophony of disbelief. Cameras whirred
