As Alexander's words washed over the men in the room, the first flickers of hope began to spark in Donald Trump's eyes. He had been down for so long, written off by the media, and pushed to the fringes of power. But here, in the quiet of this room, amid Alexander's calculated precision, he could sense something shifting. Something had changed.
Trump started smiling—cautiously at first, then more freely as he processed the plan that Alexander had laid out so clearly. It made sense. It was bold, audacious, and—most importantly—doable. He could feel the weight of his dream of returning to the presidency slipping within reach. All the years of frustration, the media smears, the political isolation—they were starting to feel like nothing more than distant memories. He was finally beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
