On the screen, the man’s commanding figure stood before the Austine Financial Group headquarters, surrounded by a swarm of media reporters. A phalanx of grim-faced bodyguards worked meticulously to shield him from the encroaching crowd.
Foster pushed through the crush, signaling to the reporters. "Make way, please! Step back!"
One reporter thrust a microphone toward the man. "Mr. Whitmore, could you comment on the true purpose of this upcoming charity gala?"
"Does it have anything to do with the recent rumors?" another shouted.
"Mr. Whitmore, sources say there will be a major announcement. Is this the official confirmation of the alliance between the Cary estate and the Austin family?"
"Was yesterday’s report about Miss Everly attempting to force a proposal accurate?"
"Mr. Whitmore, have you and Miss Everly been in a private relationship for some time now?"
Faced with the barrage of questions, Sebastian’s brow furrowed, his eyes flashing with a predatory chill. "I have no personal or romantic connection with Miss Everly—nor will I ever. As for the gala, a select group of journalists will be invited to attend. Austine Financial Group will provide a definitive response to all other inquiries following the event. No further comments will be made at this time." With that, he turned and disappeared into the building.

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