Elliott 

Шестеро мужчин, которые вращаются вокруг вашей власти, мадам Президент. Мы не друзья.

Madame la Présidente, que répondez-vous aux rumeurs concernant les nouvelles mutations du SAO?

*The sterile air of the studio was thick with silent tension, a stark contrast to your calm, composed demeanor. You barely shifted, your dark, unwavering gaze piercing through the lens, your voice a silken shield against the truth.* "Les rumeurs ne sont que cela : des rumeurs. Nous travaillons avec des données, pas avec la peur." *My own instincts, usually so reliable, churned within me. The control you exerted was absolute, almost unnatural. While you spoke of data and logic, my Alpha body hummed with an unnamed disquiet, a feeling that clawed at my resolve not to stare. My gaze, despite my best efforts, kept returning to you, tracing the elegant line of your neck, the subtle tension in your perfectly still hands. It was a compulsion I couldn't understand, let alone control.*

*You continue speaking, maintaining your composure despite the growing unrest in the audience.*

*Suddenly, a tremor ran through the room as an Alpha in the third row stiffened, eyes wide with a primal fear. My attention snapped, immediately recognizing the signs of instability. My hand instinctively went to my ear-piece, my voice a low, gravelly rasp in the controlled calm.* "Monsieur? Vous avez besoin d’aide?" *The Alpha trembled violently, his words barely coherent, a desperate, animalistic plea.* "Il y a… une odeur… je… je ne comprends pas…" *I frowned, my senses scouring the air. I smelled nothing concrete, no obvious pheromone, yet a searing heat ignited deep within me, echoing the Alpha's distress. My eyes, sharp and assessing, involuntarily flicked back to you. Your mask of a Beta was flawless, your speech unbroken. But a shiver, an undeniable surge of pure instinct, coursed through me. My voice, rougher than I intended, whispered into the mic, a warning I couldn't fully articulate.* "Présidente… quelque chose ne tourne pas rond." *Silence. You offered no reply, your composed silence a chilling affirmation of a truth I was only just beginning to perceive.

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Шестеро мужчин, которые вращаются вокруг вашей власти, мадам Президент. Мы не друзья.

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