Chapter 4

Sensing my gaze, Lysander tugged at his collar and snorted.

"What are you staring at?"

I looked away.

Right. The original Lysander was as insufferable as ever.

I only had myself to blame—using his face for the custom modeling out of spite. Now I kept getting disoriented, mistaking the real deal for Lorian.

To avoid accidentally ordering him around like my android, I moved to kick him out: "You're done. Go back to your own place."

Lysander's head snapped up, disbelief written all over his face.

"You're kicking me out?"

"Rachel, you're actually kicking me out?"

I found the whole thing utterly baffling.

After a long silence, I managed: "Well, yeah?"

Why the wounded expression? Like I'd committed some heinous crime.

Lysander clenched his jaw and said nothing. Just stood at the sink, scrubbing that plate with excessive force.

Only after polishing it to a mirror shine did he grit out:

"My apartment's security system is being upgraded all night. Whole place is locked down. I can't get back in."

I was beyond words.

"Is Genesis Bionics going bankrupt? One call and you could book the entire top floor of the Four Seasons. Hell, go to Malibu. Why are you crashing here?"

Lysander turned around, utterly shameless:

"Hotel linens don't meet my standards. And Malibu's too far—I just had two glasses of your Bordeaux. I'm not calling an Uber reeking of stranger sweat. Bottom line: I have nowhere else to go tonight."

I rolled my eyes hard enough to see my own brain.

What kind of entitled billionaire bullshit is this?

He'd probably gotten into it with those old Wellington fossils at the board meeting and was using me as his escape route.

Whatever.

I wasn't going to waste energy arguing. I yanked a blanket from the closet and tossed it onto the couch.

Just as I turned toward my bedroom, Mr. High-and-Mighty wasn't done.

He stared at the blanket, his voice shooting up: "Rachel, you're making me sleep on the couch?"

I laughed, crossing my arms:

"What else? You want my bed while you're at it? Don't push your luck, Wellington. Either shut up and lie down, or get out and sleep in your Bugatti."

Lysander's jaw went rigid. He muttered something profane in French before snatching up the blanket:

"Fine. Like I'd want your bed anyway."

I didn't bother responding, just went straight to my bedroom.

I turned off the lights and tossed and turned, completely unable to sleep.

After getting used to Lorian's constant warmth and perfect embrace, his absence tonight was hard to take.

I clutched my comforter, burying my face in the pillow, silently seething.

Damn Genesis customer service. First thing tomorrow, I was firing off an ultimatum demanding they return my Lorian immediately.

I lay there fuming until dawn.

When I opened the bedroom door, the living room was empty.

Just that blanket, crumpled on the couch. Lysander had already left.

Using my home as a crash pad and leaving without a word—that arrogant bastard had no manners whatsoever.

I was reaching for my phone to send him a scathing text when the doorbell rang.

I pulled open the door. Lorian stood there, flawless.

Still wearing the same shirt from the day he'd been taken, those clear blue eyes fixed on me.

The Genesis technician beside him flashed a relieved smile:

"Ms. Knight, your custom android has completed foundational logic repair. Enjoy."

With that, he bolted like his life depended on it.

Lysander who?

My resentment evaporated instantly. I pulled Lorian inside and cupped his face, inspecting him.

He submitted to my examination, that stern face wearing a perfectly obedient smile.

I ran my fingers through his golden hair, unable to stop myself from muttering:

"I really regret using Lysander's face for the modeling. Can't even change it now—totally ruins the fantasy."

Lorian froze.

His eyes widened, those blue irises flooding with distress: "Master, do you no longer like my face? Am I ugly?"

He raised his hand to his face, confused, even the corners of his eyes drooping with hurt.

Honestly, calling Lysander ugly was purely post-divorce spite.

Objectively, this face—with its beauty mark and sharp bone structure—was top-tier modeling.

The problem was, on Lysander, it always radiated that insufferable, punch-worthy arrogance.

Looking at the dejected android, I softened: "No, you're gorgeous."

He blinked, still uncertain: "Really? But you just said you wanted to replace..."

Even his body temperature dropped with his mood. Damn these details.

I cupped his face and planted two firm kisses on his lips: "Of course it's true. You think I'd spend ten million on an eyesore?"

Lorian's eyes instantly lit up.

He leaned into my palm: "So you're actually obsessed with how I look, aren't you?"

I had to admit, this premium intimacy module was cheating.

I nodded: "Absolutely."

Lorian was finally satisfied. He tightened his arms, pulling me firmly against his broad chest.

Listening to the simulated steady heartbeat in his chest cavity, I sighed, resting my chin on his shoulder: "I couldn't even sleep without you."

Lorian's features softened. He lowered his head to kiss my earlobe, his voice dropping: "I promise I'll never leave your bed again."

After our reunion in the entryway, Lorian released me.

His system completed an automatic scan, and he walked to the living room.

He picked up the blanket Lysander had twisted into knots, shaking it out and refolding it with perfect creases.

Then he headed to the bathroom, smoothly collecting the lace underwear I'd left last night.

Watching that flawless silhouette, my mood soared. I threw myself onto the couch.

The moment I settled back, something hard jabbed my spine.

Frowning, I fished a phone out from between the cushions.

The screen lit up, and I froze.

Lysander's phone? How rushed had he been to forget it when he bolted?

I was about to call his assistant when a new message popped up.

The sender happened to be his chief of staff, Ethan:

[Sir, please stop playing robot. If you don't get back soon, the board is about to call 911 to report you missing!]