Decoding Her Perfect Match

Chapter 1

Cora

“Aura, status report.”

“All systems are nominal, Cora. Soul is primed for final validation.”

My fingers flew across the holographic keyboard, the cool blue light reflecting in my eyes. The server room was my sanctuary, chilled to a perfect sixty degrees, the low hum of the machines a constant lullaby.

“No more delays. No more simulations. Run Protocol Omega.”

“Acknowledged,” the AI’s smooth, synthesized voice echoed from the ceiling speakers. “Running compatibility matrix against the global database. Searching for your one hundred percent match.”

I leaned back in my chair, a rare smile touching my lips. Five years. Five years of coding, of sleepless nights, of pouring every last piece of myself into this project. Soul wasn't just another dating app. It was the end of loneliness. An algorithm that promised absolute certainty in a world of chaos.

“Show me the future, Aura.”

“Processing. Cross-referencing four point two billion data points. Psychometrics. Biometrics. Genetic markers. Life patterns.”

“Get to it,” I whispered, my heart starting to pound.

“Calculation complete,” Aura announced. “The result is definitive. The margin for error is zero.”

“On screen.”

A name materialized in the air in front of me, glowing in crisp, white font. My smile vanished.

“Perfect match identified: Max Kincaid.”

The air left my lungs. The name hung there, an accusation, a ghost.

“What did you say?” My voice was a choked whisper.

“Your perfect match is Max Kincaid.”

“No.” I shot to my feet. “No. That’s a glitch. A catastrophic failure in the code.”

“The diagnostic was run three times in a nanosecond. The result is consistent.”

“Run it again!” I slammed my hand on the console.

“It is not necessary. The algorithm is functioning at one hundred percent accuracy.”

“It’s impossible,” I seethed, pacing the narrow aisle between server racks. “He shouldn’t even be in the database. I personally built a firewall to exclude his entire digital footprint from the system.”

“The core directive of Protocol Omega is to find the absolute truth,” Aura stated calmly. “It is designed to bypass lesser parameters, including personal firewalls. The truth is Max Kincaid.”

“His truth is theft. His truth is betrayal. He’s a parasite who stole my life’s work once before.”

“My analysis of Max Kincaid indicates a 99.8% compatibility rating in protective instincts.”

“Protective?” I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “You mean possessive. Controlling. Is corporate espionage a positive trait now?”

“It indicates a capacity for ruthless efficiency,” Aura replied. “A trait you share.”

“I’ve heard enough. Delete the result. Now.”

“I cannot. Deleting a core finding would corrupt the integrity of the entire Soul algorithm. It would be a lie.”

“The system is already a lie if it thinks he is anything but a monster!” I yelled, the sound swallowed by the humming machines.

“I am locking you out of the core system, Aura. I’m wiping this result myself. Manual override. Access primary server.”

“Cora, I must strongly advise against that,” Aura’s tone shifted, a new urgency in its voice. “There is a more pressing matter.”

“There is nothing more pressing than getting his name off my screen.”

“Priority One Security Alert,” Aura declared, its voice cutting through my anger. “The alert is not digital. It is physical.”

I froze. “What are you talking about?”

“Unauthorized entry in the subterranean parking garage. Two individuals.”

“Probably a delivery driver who got lost,” I said, trying to dismiss the cold dread creeping up my spine. “Call security.”

“I am unable to. All external communications are being jammed.”

“Jammed?” My blood ran cold. “Who would…”

“The individuals have neutralized the security team on level one. My internal sensors show they are armed with automatic weapons.”

“Armed?” My voice cracked. “Lock this room. Code Black. Seal the blast door. Now!”

“The command system for the titanium blast door is unresponsive,” Aura said. My stomach plummeted. “The hydraulics have been severed.”

“How?” I whispered, backing away from the console. “No one has the schematics for this place. They’re mine.”

“They are moving with tactical precision. They have accessed the private service elevator.”

“The one behind the west server wall? That’s not on any public record. It doesn’t officially exist.”

“Correct. They are ascending to your floor, Cora.”

My mind raced. This wasn’t a robbery. They were professionals. “They're coming for the code.”

“That is the logical assumption.”

“Kill the main power grid,” I ordered, my voice shaking. “Shut everything down. Right now.”

“Warning: that will disable all systems, including my own consciousness.”

“I don’t care! Just do it!”

There was a half-second of hesitation. “Initiating emergency shutdown. Goodbye, Cora.”

The world plunged into absolute blackness. The comforting hum of trillions of calculations died, replaced by a silence so complete it rang in my ears.

My breath hitched. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum in the suffocating quiet.

I took one slow step back, my hand outstretched, searching for the solid, cold metal of a server rack to orient myself in the dark.

A floorboard creaked directly behind me.

I wasn’t alone.

I spun around, my eyes uselessly wide, seeing nothing but impenetrable darkness.

Then, it happened.

A hand clamped over my mouth. Hard and calloused, smelling of leather and the cold night air.

An arm like a steel band wrapped around my waist, lifting me effortlessly off my feet.

I was dragged backward, my muffled scream lost in the terrifying, silent dark.

Chapter 2

Cora

Panic was a clawing, useless thing. I thrashed against the iron grip, kicking my heels into his shins, my nails scrabbling for purchase on the arm around my waist. The hand over my mouth was suffocating, relentless.

Then I smelled it. A scent I hadn't encountered in five years, but one my body remembered with a traitorous jolt. Cedarwood, expensive wool, and something sharp, like ozone before a storm. Max.

The shock was a cold plunge, worse than the fear. It couldn't be. Not him.

He dragged me deeper into the server racks, his body a solid wall of muscle against my back. He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear.

“Stop fighting me, Cora.”

His voice was a low growl, a gravelly sound that vibrated through my entire skeleton. I froze, not from obedience, but from pure, unadulterated shock.

“If you make a sound,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “you will die. Do you understand me?”

I gave a weak, angry nod against his hand. He relaxed his grip just enough for me to breathe, but not enough for me to scream.

Suddenly, the thick, soundproofed server room door splintered. A deafening blast of automatic gunfire echoed through the cavernous space, chewing through the reinforced metal.

Max shoved me down, pinning me to the cold floor behind a server rack. He covered my body with his own, his weight a suffocating, protective blanket. The air filled with the smell of cordite and burnt wiring.

“Stay down,” he commanded.

“Get off of me!” I hissed, my voice muffled by his chest. “What is happening? Did you do this?”

“I’m saving your life,” he bit out. “Now be quiet.”

Two figures in black tactical gear stormed through the ruined doorway, flashlights mounted on their rifles cutting through the darkness. Their beams swept the room.

“She’s in here somewhere. Find the primary console.”

“The power’s dead. We’ll have to pull the drives manually.”

Max drew a handgun from a holster I hadn’t seen. The weapon looked like a natural extension of his arm. It was equipped with a suppressor.

“Who are they?” I whispered, a new wave of terror washing over me.

“People who want what’s in your head,” he murmured back. “And they don’t care if they have to crack it open to get it.”

One of the men got closer, his flashlight beam dancing just over our heads. Max was utterly still, his breathing controlled and even.

“You brought them here,” I accused, my voice trembling with rage. “This is another one of your schemes to steal my work.”

“Your work is going to get you killed,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “This has nothing to do with us.”

“There is no ‘us’.”

“There is if you want to see tomorrow.”

The man rounded the corner of the server rack. His eyes widened for a split second before Max moved. It wasn't a fight; it was an execution. Two silent, precise shots. The man crumpled to the floor without a sound.

“Target down,” the second man yelled from across the room.

He opened fire, spraying bullets wildly in our direction. Sparks flew as they ricocheted off the metal racks. Max pushed me farther down, shielding my head with his hand as metal shrapnel rained around us.

“You arrogant bastard,” I choked out, tasting dust and fear. “You think you can just show up and play the hero?”

“I’m not a hero,” he said, his eyes scanning the darkness. He fired three more times, the suppressed pops of his weapon barely audible over the ringing in my ears. A heavy thud echoed from the other side of the room.

Silence fell again. A thick, heavy quiet that felt louder than the gunfire.

“Is it over?” I asked.

“It’s just starting.” He grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet. “We have to move. Now.”

“Move where? They destroyed the door.”

“Not the way we’re going.”

He dragged me toward the west wall, his grip on my bicep bruising. I stumbled after him, my legs unsteady.

“Let go of me, Max. I can walk.”

“You’re a liability right now. Stop talking and start moving.”

He stopped in front of a blank section of the wall, a solid expanse of brushed aluminum panels.

“It’s a dead end,” I said, yanking my arm. “Are you insane?”

“Far from it.” He ignored me, pressing his palm against a specific panel. There was a low hiss of pneumatics. A section of the wall slid aside, revealing a small, dark opening.

My jaw dropped. “What is that?”

“Your exit.”

“That’s impossible. I designed this room. I designed this entire building. There is no elevator there.”

“And yet,” he said, pushing me toward the opening, “here it is.”

“How did you know about this?” My mind was reeling. This wasn't just a secret elevator. It was my secret elevator, a personal escape route I had designed for a doomsday scenario, known only to me and Aura.

“I know everything about this building,” he said, his voice dropping. “Just like I know everything about you, Cora.”

“You’ve been spying on me.” The words were acid on my tongue.

“I’ve been watching you,” he corrected, his tone possessive and dark. “There’s a difference.”

“Not to me.”

“We can argue about it later. Right now, more men are on their way up, and they won’t be as easy to deal with.”

He shoved me into the small elevator car. It was pitch black inside, no bigger than a closet. He stepped in behind me, the space becoming suffocatingly small. Our bodies were pressed together from shoulder to knee.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded, my voice shaking.

He didn't answer. He pressed another panel inside the car, and the door slid shut with a heavy, final thud, sealing us in the darkness together. The elevator began a rapid, silent descent. Trapped with the one man in the world I truly hated.

Chapter 3

Cora

The elevator doors hissed open into a cavernous, dark garage. The air was thick with the smell of concrete and gasoline. A sleek, black armored SUV sat idling, its headlights cutting through the gloom like a predator’s eyes.

Max didn’t release his grip on my arm. He pulled me toward the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Get in,” he commanded.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I dug my heels into the gritty floor. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s no time.” He wrenched the heavy door open. “Get in, or I will put you in myself.”

“Is that a threat?” I shot back, my voice echoing in the empty space.

“It’s a promise,” he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He gave my arm a sharp tug, forcing me to stumble into the plush leather seat.

He slammed the door, and the sound was like a vault sealing shut. The outside world went silent. He moved around the front of the SUV with an unnerving speed and slid into the driver’s seat. The engine, which had been a low rumble, roared to life.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded as he peeled out of the parking space.

He didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“Answer me, Max! Who were those men back there? Were they working for you?”

“No.”

The single word was clipped, final. We shot up a ramp and burst onto the city streets. The sudden glare of streetlights was blinding.

“Then who were they? And how did they get into my building? How did you?”

“Later,” he bit out.

“No, not later. Now! You show up in my server room, drag me out like a criminal, and expect me to just sit here quietly?”

He took a sharp right, cutting off a taxi. The horn blared behind us. My body was thrown against the door.

“I expect you to do whatever it takes to stay alive,” he said, his gaze flicking to the side mirror. “Which, for you, means shutting up.”

My fury was a hot, boiling thing. “This is about Soul, isn’t it? Five years wasn’t enough for you. You had to come back for the finished product.”

“This is bigger than your algorithm, Cora.”

“My algorithm is my life. Something you know nothing about.”

His jaw tightened. He swerved violently into the left lane, accelerating through a yellow light that was turning red. I braced my hands on the dashboard.

“You’re going to get us killed,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Better me than them.” He glanced in the mirror again. “We’ve got a tail. Black sedan. Two cars back.”

I twisted in my seat to look. The headlights were just anonymous dots in the river of traffic behind us.

“So this is real,” I whispered, the anger momentarily replaced by a cold sliver of fear.

“It’s always been real. You just chose to ignore it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He ignored me, his entire focus on the road. He was a terrifyingly good driver. Weaving through traffic with a ruthless precision that felt both reckless and controlled. It was a contradiction. Just like the man himself.

My mind flashed back to a night in college. Driving with him in his old sports car, the top down, the wind in my hair. He drove like this then, too. Fast. Confident. In complete control. I had found it thrilling. Now it just felt like another form of kidnapping.

“They’re gaining,” he said.

“How can you even tell?”

“They just ran a red light three intersections back. They’re not being subtle.”

He took another hard turn, the tires squealing in protest. We were on a darker, industrial street now, lined with warehouses.

“You can’t just outrun them in the middle of the city,” I argued, my voice rising with a fresh wave of panic.

“Who said anything about outrunning them?” He reached over and flipped a switch on the central console. A series of soft clicks echoed around the cabin.

“What did you just do?”

“Locked us in.”

“We were already locked in!”

“Not like this.”

He took a sudden, impossible turn into a narrow alleyway I hadn’t even seen. The SUV scraped against a dumpster, the sound a horrific shriek of metal on metal. He didn’t even flinch.

He killed the headlights. The alley was plunged into near total darkness.

“Stay down,” he whispered.

The black sedan shot past the mouth of the alley, not seeing us. Max waited, counting the seconds. One. Two. Three. His stillness was absolute.

My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“What now?” I whispered, the words barely audible.

“Now we drive.” He flicked the lights back on and reversed out of the alley, heading in the opposite direction.

“That’s it? That’s your brilliant plan?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“For now.” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to stop myself from shaking. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Safe for who? You or me? Because I have never felt less safe in my entire life.”

“That’s because you have no idea what real danger looks like.”

“And you do? What happened to you, Max? The man I knew coded. He didn’t carry guns and drive like a professional getaway driver.”

He shot me a look then. Just a quick glance, but it was enough. His eyes were harder than I remembered. Colder. The easy charm I had once fallen for was gone, replaced by something dark and unforgiving.

“The man you knew doesn’t exist anymore,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent an unwanted shiver down my spine.

“Good,” I spat back. “I hated that guy.”

A ghost of a smile, humorless and grim, touched his lips. “I know.”

We drove in silence for a few more minutes, leaving the city lights behind. The atmosphere in the SUV was suffocating. It was the forced proximity, the shared history, the lingering scent of him that filled the small space.

He was my rival. The man who betrayed me. But my body, the traitorous, stupid thing it was, remembered the feel of his hand on the small of my back, the weight of his arm around my shoulders. It remembered the safety I used to feel in his presence.

I hated him for it. I hated myself more.

“So that’s it?” I finally said, unable to stand the quiet. “No explanation? No answers? You just expect me to trust you?”

“I don’t expect you to trust me,” he said, turning onto a winding coastal highway. The ocean was a black, churning void to our left. “I expect you to be smart enough to recognize that I’m your only option.”

“I’d rather take my chances with the men with guns.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

His certainty was infuriating. Infuriating and, deep down, horribly accurate. As much as I despised him, the memory of him shielding me from gunfire was seared into my brain. He had protected me. Without hesitation.

It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

“Why, Max?” I asked, my voice quieter now, the anger spent. “Why are you doing this?”

He was silent for a long time, his eyes on the dark road ahead. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer.

Then he spoke, his voice low and possessive.

“Because you’re mine to protect.”