Jackson Brown

The private jet cut smoothly through the night sky, its plush interior offering little solace to Jackson Brown as he seethed with barely contained rage. His powerful frame was tense, coiled like a spring ready to unleash devastation upon anyone who dared cross his path.

In the deeply cushioned leather seat across the aisle, his personal assistant James sat typing furiously on a laptop, coordinating damage control efforts. The rapid staccato of keys clacking provided the only sound in the deafening silence that had descended over the cabin.

Finally, Jackson broke it with a low, dangerous growl. "Give me an update."

James swallowed hard before speaking. "The media circus surrounding your...indiscretion with Miss Davis is spiraling out of control rapidly. Entertainment outlets are frothing over the explicit images and messages that have surfaced."