Chapter 2 Calculated Encounters

David's POV

The security feeds flicker across my laptop screen like a private cinema, each camera angle offering a different perspective on the forty-second floor where Morgana Gaius works her predictable magic with numbers and projections. From my corner suite on the forty-fifth floor, I have access to more than most Vice Presidents—a benefit of cultivating the right relationships in IT and building security.

She's still there at 9:52 PM, exactly as I calculated she would be. The quarterly reports always keep her late on Tuesdays, and her dedication to perfectionism means she'll stay until every decimal point aligns with her exacting standards. I switch between camera angles, watching her gather papers from the printer, the familiar ritual I've observed dozens of times over the past six months.

My secondary monitor displays the spreadsheet I've been building—Morgana's complete behavioral profile mapped with the precision of a military operation. Arrival time: 7:43 AM, consistent within a two-minute window. Coffee preference: Ethiopian blend, black, purchased from the thirty-eighth floor machine at 9:15 AM daily. Lunch routine: salad from the lobby café, eaten at her desk while reviewing client portfolios. Departure schedule: variable between 8 PM and 11 PM, depending on project deadlines and her perfectionist tendencies.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

I click through to her LinkedIn profile, memorizing details I've read dozens of times before. MBA from Wharton, top ten percent of her class. Three years at Meridian Financial with a track record of successful client acquisitions and risk assessments. Hobbies listed as yoga, reading, and "exploring Manhattan's cultural offerings"—the kind of generic interests that reveal someone too focused on career advancement to develop genuine personal passions.

She fits every parameter I've refined over the years. Ambitious but insecure about her personal life. Successful enough to present an interesting challenge but vulnerable enough to trust easily when the right man shows interest. Most importantly, she works alone during vulnerable hours, isolated from the casual oversight that might complicate things later.

The elevator encounters have been invaluable for gathering intelligence. Three weeks ago, I timed my exit from the forty-fifth floor to coincide with her coffee run, engaging in casual conversation about market volatility while noting her body language and speech patterns. She responds well to professional competence combined with personal warmth—a combination that makes her feel understood rather than objectified. Last week, I helped her carry files from the copy center, a gallant gesture that allowed me to observe her apartment address on a delivery confirmation slip left in her folder.

Tomorrow will mark our transition from casual encounters to intentional interaction. I've already arranged for the coffee machine malfunction through my contact in building maintenance—a simple matter of suggesting a routine inspection that will temporarily disable the temperamental mechanism. When Morgana arrives for her daily caffeine ritual at 9:15 AM, she'll find herself frustrated and coffee-less. I'll materialize at precisely the right moment, tools in hand, ready to solve her problem with the kind of effortless competence that suggests both capability and caring.

The reflection in my office window shows the practiced smile I've refined over years of successful approaches. Warm but not overwhelming, confident but not arrogant, with just enough self-deprecation to seem approachable rather than threatening. It's the same smile that charmed Rebecca Martinez into trusting me completely, that made Jessica Wright lower her guard during those final crucial moments, that convinced Amanda Andrew she'd found her soulmate just before she discovered the truth.

Four successful relationships, each one a masterpiece of psychological manipulation and emotional control. Rebecca thought I was a marketing consultant who understood her creative ambitions. Jessica believed I was a fellow fitness enthusiast who shared her passion for marathon training. Amanda was convinced I was a fellow analyst who appreciated both her professional expertise and her vulnerability about finding lasting love.

Each relationship followed the same careful progression—three months of courtship designed to build complete trust, followed by the inevitable revelation that their Prince Charming was something altogether different. The timing was always perfect, the locations carefully chosen, the evidence systematically eliminated through Richard's professional expertise and family connections.

I minimize the surveillance feeds and open my encrypted partition, scrolling through the digital archives that document each relationship with clinical precision. Photographs, conversation transcripts, behavioral analysis, timeline documentation—everything needed to understand what worked and what could be improved for future applications.

Rebecca's file contains 247 photos taken without her knowledge, from their first coffee date through her final evening. Jessica's documentation includes GPS tracking data from her morning runs and workout schedule obtained through her fitness app. Amanda's folder holds screenshots of every text message exchange and social media interaction, along with audio recordings from dates where I wore a wire to capture her authentic responses to various romantic stimuli.

The methodology has been refined through experience, each relationship teaching valuable lessons about timing, approach, and psychological pressure points. Rebecca taught me the importance of mirroring professional anxieties to build emotional connection. Jessica revealed how physical fitness routines could be exploited to establish meeting schedules and location control. Amanda demonstrated the power of intellectual compatibility combined with romantic vulnerability—a combination that overrides analytical thinking when applied correctly.

Now comes Morgana, the culmination of everything I've learned about professional women who sacrifice personal relationships for career advancement. Her behavioral profile suggests she'll respond most effectively to a combination of intellectual respect, romantic attention, and gradual isolation from alternative support systems. The coffee machine encounter will establish me as helpful and competent. The follow-up conversations will reveal shared professional interests and career ambitions. The first date will combine romance with intellectual stimulation, creating the illusion of finding someone who appreciates both her professional success and personal vulnerability.

My phone buzzes with a text from Richard: "Everything arranged for tomorrow's maintenance schedule. Remember to keep digital communications minimal during initial contact phase."

I type back: "Understood. Timeline remains on schedule."

Richard's experience covering my previous relationships has been invaluable, but his increasing nervousness about police attention requires careful management. Detective work has made him paranoid about evidence trails and witness statements, useful qualities that have kept our operations secure but annoying when they interfere with my preferred timeline and approach.

The security feed shows Morgana finally packing her laptop and preparing to leave for the evening. I watch her walk toward the elevator bank, noting the slight slump to her shoulders that suggests fatigue and the isolation that makes her such an ideal candidate. Tomorrow she'll meet the charming Vice President who seems to understand both her professional dedication and personal loneliness. Three months from now, she'll understand exactly what kind of man she invited into her life.

I close the surveillance application and open a new browser window, navigating to the encrypted partition where Amanda Andrew's dating profile still glows on my screen—the Elite Connections account I used to gain her trust, complete with the photograph of success and charm that convinced her I was everything she'd been searching for.

Her final message to me still sits in the conversation thread: "Can't wait to see you tonight. I have a feeling this could be the beginning of something amazing."

She was right, in a way. It was the beginning of something amazing—just not what she expected.

Tomorrow, Morgana's story begins.