Alexander Tequila

The studio of the "Game Master" show was permeated with the scent of expensive coffee and falsehood. Sasha Tequila sat at the head of the table as usual, leaning back relaxedly in his chair. His confidence was almost tangible—he considered himself the master strategist, the "light" knight who was about to expose everyone.

But his main problem wasn't Oleg, whom he suspected, but Mikhail. Their endless duel for the title of the project's "alpha" had turned the game into a personal conflict. Sasha constantly caught himself thinking that proving his dominance to Mikhail was more important than figuring out who the real killers were.

She sat beside him. Quiet, attentive, with an eternally understanding gaze. Sasha trusted her unconditionally. She was his "safe harbor," the only person with whom he could discuss tactics without fearing a stab in the back.

"I think Oleg is dark," Sasha leaned toward her, lowering his voice to a confidential whisper. "Too nervous, too much fidgeting. But, to be honest..." he smirked, looking into her calm eyes, "I actually want them to make me dark already."