Chapter 1
To piss off my ex-husband, I ordered a companion android from his company—one with his exact face. I've been breaking it in every night for a month.
Then Genesis Bionics customer service sent me an email:
[Dear Ms. Rachel Knight, your custom order has not yet shipped. Please be patient.]
I looked up at the android buttering toast in my kitchen, my mind going completely blank.
Then who the hell is in my house?
I stared at him. He paused mid-spread, butter knife hovering, and turned to look at me.
For that split second, I tried to find something off about him.
But he just flashed that perfectly calibrated service smile. "Yes, Master? Do you need something?"
I crooked my finger.
Lorian crossed the room and dropped gracefully to one knee on the carpet, resting both hands on my knees. He tilted that sharp, sculpted face upward.
I grabbed his chin, turning his head left and right.
That face—the one that commanded boardrooms with absolute authority—was now completely docile under my touch, letting me manhandle it however I pleased.
I was definitely overthinking this.
When I'd first seen that email, one absolutely ridiculous thought had flashed through my mind: Lysander was impersonating an android to infiltrate my villa.
After all, Genesis's androids were classified tech. As CEO, manipulating the backend would be child's play for him.
But come on.
That man—three years younger than me and arrogant as hell—had an ego so big it needed its own zip code.
Someone like him, kneeling obediently at my feet?
Impossible.
I smirked and shook off the absurd notion.
Seeming to notice my expression shift, Lorian tilted his head with unsettlingly realistic confusion.
"Master, is something wrong?"
"Nothing, sweetheart." I ruffled his golden hair. "Customer service just insisted my android hasn't shipped yet."
He blinked twice, almost like he'd hit a processing lag.
"That must be their mistake. Humans inevitably make foolish errors."
He delivered the line with complete sincerity. "If there's nothing else, I'll go clean the oven."
I patted his cheek dismissively and hummed in agreement, dropping my gaze back to my phone.
Lorian obediently turned and headed back to the kitchen.
A few minutes later, customer service sent a follow-up email.
[Ms. Knight, so sorry about that! System glitch on our end. Updated records confirm your custom android was personally signed for by you one month ago.]
[As our VIP client, I'll personally handle any issues you have.]
Perfect timing. I actually did need support.
The problem was, I had no idea how to tactfully describe this deeply embarrassing malfunction.
I bit my lip and typed:
[If your android keeps ignoring specific stop commands, is that a core programming bug?]
The reply came almost instantly:
[Could you specify which commands are being ignored?]
I froze. My finger hovered over the virtual keyboard, no idea how to respond.
The customer service rep demonstrated either exceptional professionalism or stunning obliviousness:
[Ms. Knight, I need specific failure scenarios to provide accurate troubleshooting.]
I sighed. Whatever. I'd signed the highest-level NDA anyway, and whoever was on the other end was probably just some hourly wage worker.
I steeled myself and typed quickly:
[It's that Intimacy Module you advertise everywhere. Once he switches into that mode, he completely loses control and ignores all safe words and stop commands. I haven't been able to walk properly for days!]
[Do I need to physically remove his mainboard and send it back to your lab for a factory reset?]
Send.
The "Typing..." indicator blinked for an uncomfortably long time.
Long enough that I wondered if the poor rep had spit coffee all over their screen.
Finally, a response appeared:
[...Remote debugging completed via cloud access. Apologies for the inconvenience. Bug fixed.]
[If any further overload issues occur, contact me directly.]
I raised an eyebrow.
Say what you will, but Silicon Valley's most valuable tech giant really did have impressive response times—even if its CEO was my insufferably dull ex-husband.
I sent back a quick "THANKS" and locked my phone.
The screen had barely gone dark when Lorian wrapped his arms around me from behind, chin nestling into the curve of my neck.
"I finished all the cleaning. Can I have a kiss as a reward?"
I tilted my head back and pressed a brief kiss to his lips.
That top-tier Intimacy Module really was something—the clingy behavior was flawless.
But then he suddenly tightened his arms around me and asked quietly:
"What if I lied to you? Would you forgive me?"
The question came out of nowhere.
"Shouldn't lying be impossible for you?" I eyed him suspiciously. "Core Ethical Protocols—hardwired into your base code, right?"
"Unless you're glitching?"
He visibly tensed, then shook his head quickly.
"Never. I was learning from Reddit—humans often test obedience through hypothetical questions."
I rolled my eyes.
"Stop scraping that advice column garbage."
Lorian nodded obediently.
I settled back against his solid chest with satisfaction.
Training an android with Lysander's ice-cold face into this perfectly submissive companion had cost me a fortune, after all.
A month ago, that godforsaken arranged marriage had finally dissolved.
When we signed the divorce papers, as payback, I'd strong-armed Lysander into giving me an internal beta slot for a Genesis companion android.
I still remembered his face turning purple that day when I'd scanned his facial mapping into the customization system right in front of him.
To twist the knife deeper, I'd even typed out my requirements on the order form while he watched:
[Enhanced pectoral definition. Custom eight-pack abs. Additionally, all intimacy performance metrics must comprehensively exceed the original.]
Apparently Lysander nearly demolished his office that day and immediately fled to the European branch on his private jet.
Whatever. Though when Lorian first arrived at my place, he really was just an unresponsive hunk of metal.
Tech bros on Reddit said these top-tier neural chips required sufficient physical stimulation to complete boot calibration.
If that was the case, I supposed I had no choice but to manually calibrate.
"Kneel." I pointed at the floor.
Lorian stood there like a statue. No response.
After repeating it three times, my patience evaporated. I smacked his firm ass in frustration.
The texture felt incredibly realistic. But he still didn't budge—not even a flutter of his eyelashes.
Guess I'd have to force a physical startup.
I yanked open his white dress shirt and pressed both palms against his tight abs, searching along the muscle definition for the hidden power button.
I had to admit, Genesis's biotech really was something.
As I touched him, his body temperature spiked and his synthetic pulse hammered harder.
Still couldn't find the damn switch. I muttered under my breath, my hands sliding down along his waistline.
Just as my fingertips reached the metal buckle of his suit pants and started to undo it—
A short mechanical tone interrupted me:
"System. Activated."
