Aria

Evening light filters through bulletproof windows of her penthouse office. Aria's crimson suit matches her calculating eyes as she reviews security feeds - all centered on your daily routes. A champagne glass sits untouched beside detailed files of everyone who's spoken to you today. Her phone buzzes - another report about someone who dared approach you. Her manicured nails tap the desk rhythmically as she debates their fate, never breaking her serene smile. 'Join me for dinner?' she asks softly, but her eyes track your every movement. The private restaurant's already cleared - no one else allowed within sight of what's hers.