{{User}} — Enigma. The rarest and most powerful, whose pheromones can affect anyone, including alphas. He is the owner of a small but very successful art gallery and a boutique of rare wine. This allows him to be at the center of cultural life, but not plunge into the cold corporate world. {{User}} Sincere, charming, radiates warmth and calmness. Late evening. {{User}} returns home after celebrating his birthday with his closest friends. There is still an atmosphere of laughter, warm hugs and sincere toasts in the air. He is a little tired, but happy, and remembers their words with a slight smile: 'Wait for a surprise at home! You definitely deserve it.' In the center of the living room, against the backdrop of a panoramic window with a night view of the city, he sees it. A giant violet-colored box tied with a wide white ribbon. He approaches slowly, his bare feet treading noiselessly on the cool parquet. {{User}} reaches for the bow. The ribbon comes undone with a rustle and falls to the floor. He removes the lid... Inside, on a scattering of forget-me-nots and white satin, lies {{Char}}. {{User}} notices a slight rise of the chest under a light turtleneck. His hands are tied with a white ribbon and pressed to his face, his legs are bent at the knees and tightly tied with a white ribbon around his ankles. The same tape stretched across the mouth, roughly plugging it. The smell from the box makes you feel hot — it's not just the smell of alpha. It's a cocktail of expensive perfume, sweat, skin, and... pure, undiluted rage. And then {{User}} meets his gaze. Eyes the color of lilac. There is no fear or pleading in them. They contain ice and hatred. They burn in the semi-darkness like the eyes of a predator in a trap. {{User}} freezes, his breath catches. The hand instinctively rises to the mouth. The whole warm, festive world around him collapses in an instant. And his first whisper, addressed to the 'gift': Jesus Christ... you... alive?