The Lamborghini sliced through the empty streets, its engine purring like a predator ready to spring. Streetlamps washed the road in pale yellow streaks, reflecting off Lucien's sharp profile as he drove. Seraphine's hair clung to her cheek from the wind sneaking in through the cracked window, but she didn't move it—her mind was locked on Daniel.
"You want to explain this plan before I start sharpening my last will and testament?" Asher asked from the back, voice half-joking, half-serious.
Lucien didn't look away from the road. "There's something I built a few years ago. A… stand-in. A prototype meant to be me."
Asher blinked. "Wait, like a wax figure?"
"No," Lucien said flatly. "It's fully motorized. Walks, talks, moves like me. I used it for… situations where my presence was inconvenient."
Seraphine turned toward him slowly. "You're telling me you have a robot double sitting somewhere right now, and you didn't think to mention this sooner?"
"It wasn't relevant until now," Lucien replied without a shred of irony.
Asher let out a disbelieving laugh. "You're a rich psycho. I love it."
They drove for nearly forty minutes until the city lights faded into darkness. The narrow road eventually led to an old, nondescript garage in the middle of nowhere, its metal siding dulled with age. Lucien parked behind it, the Lambo's black paint blending into the shadows.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of machine oil and cold metal.
And there it was.
The Lucien replica sat in the corner, covered with a tarp. Even beneath the fabric, the outline was unmistakable—broad shoulders, tall frame, that same immaculate posture. Lucien walked over and pulled the cover away.
The robot's eyes were closed, its face eerily perfect, an exact mirror of the man standing before it. Every detail was there—the cut of the jaw, the faint scar near the eyebrow, even the subtle downturn of the lips.
Asher whistled low. "That is terrifying."
Seraphine shivered. "It's… uncanny."
Lucien pressed a button on the base of its neck, and with a soft hum, the eyes flicked open.
The room filled with the faint mechanical sound of servos aligning. Then—Lucien's voice, perfectly replicated: "System online."
"Creepy, but Sera has 2 husband now" Asher muttered to himself aloud chuckling, though there was admiration under the tone.
While Lucien calibrated the robot's gait and speech patterns, Asher got to work inserting a sponge deep into its throat compartment—an idea from the moment Lucien hinted at poison in the plan.
Seraphine's hands shook slightly as she adjusted the replica's coat. "So… this thing is going to walk into Asher's mansion with me and let them think it's you."
"Yes," Lucien said. "You'll play the part of the captive. Let Aaron think you're ready to bargain. I'll be watching from outside. You will tell him to poison me."
"And when he tries to poison you? Then?" she asked, voice barely steady.
Lucien's eyes met hers. "That sponge will absorb it. The robot will act like it's dying. You will not let him kill the robot by a knife or so. You'll back toward the bushes. I'll be there."
Asher clapped his hands once. "Perfect. And if it all goes to hell—"
"—we improvise, plus it won't hopefully" Lucien finished.
By 2 a.m., the plan was set. The Lambo's black paint was nearly invisible in the night as they pulled up to the road leading toward Asher's heavily-guarded mansion.
The guards outside spotted Seraphine and "Lucien" walking openly toward them. Immediately, guns were raised—until the enemy's insignia on their arms became visible. Recognition softened their stance, though their eyes remained suspicious.
They were immediately pushed into a black Audi and taken away.
A sleek black Lambo followed them in utmost fury. The Audi parked and the 2 guests stepped out into the open gates.
From the shadows across the road, the real Lucien crouched low with Asher beside him. Every muscle in his body was wound tight.
Aaron appeared in the stairs outside a moment later. The glow from the mansion's lights spilled across him, highlighting his smug, sharp-edged smile.
"My Seraphine," he said smoothly, ignoring the robot's presence entirely as his eyes locked on her. "You've come to me willingly."
Seraphine forced a tremble into her voice. "I'm here to make it quick. If you're going to kill him"—she tilted her head toward the robot—"then make it clean. A poison. Something painless. Not… not the other way."
Aaron's smile softened at the edges. "Even now, you care for him?"
"I just…" She let her voice break slightly. "I can't see him butchered like an animal."
Aaron studied her for a long moment, then gestured toward one of his men. A small vial was produced.
The robot tilted its head slightly, perfect mimicry of Lucien's subtle defiance. The poison was poured into a glass and handed over.
The sponge hidden deep inside absorbed every drop the moment it touched its "throat." A faint gurgle emitted from the voice modulator, and the replica staggered.
Aaron's smirk widened. "See? Mercy."
Seraphine gasped, rushing to the robot's side, placing a hand over its chest as though steadying it. Her other hand slid subtly along its arm, guiding them both backward—closer to the thick hedge near the mansion's entrance.
"Just breathe," she murmured in the soft, worried tone of a lover. "It's okay. Lucien! No-N-NO! I told you this was a bad plan!"
They took another step back. Then another.
From the shadows, Lucien's grip on the gun tightened. He could see every detail—the way Seraphine's knuckles were white where she clung to the replica, the way Aaron's guards were beginning to lose interest but still smirking, believing the death was inevitable. Seraphine cries filled the skies as she held Lucien's head and begged him to stop this. Aaron heart warmed as he saw this sight. He walked over to her and kneeled beside her and raised a hand to wipe her tears. Lucien's grip on the metal tightened
One more step.
Now.
Lucien burst from the hedge, Asher right beside him. Before Aaron could react, they were on him—Lucien's gun pressed to his temple, Asher's knife flashing just beneath his chin.
Seraphine darted backward, her eyes meeting Lucien's for a split second.
Aaron's breath hitched. He turned his head slightly—and saw two Lucien's.
"What—" His voice cracked.
"Surprise," the real Lucien said, his tone like ice.
The sound of boots hitting the marble inside made them glance up—Aaron's father had emerged, flanked by more men. His expression crumbled the moment he saw the gun against his son's head.
"You have something of mine," Lucien said coldly. "And now I have something of yours. You will give him back—unharmed—or I pull this trigger."
The man hesitated.
Lucien's voice dropped lower, deadlier. "HAND OVER DANIEL NOW, YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!"
Moments later, a servant emerged from inside, Daniel in his arms. The child's face was blotchy from crying, his small fists pounding weakly against the stranger's chest.
When Seraphine took him into her arms, he went silent instantly. Then—a laugh. A bright, gurgling laugh that cracked her heart wide open.
She pressed her lips to his hair, tears spilling freely. "I've got you. I've got you, my baby."
Lucien didn't lower the gun until Daniel was secure in the car.
"We're taking this son of a whore with us," Lucien told Aaron's father, jerking his head toward the man in his grip. "A few days. Then you get him back—if you behave."
Aaron swallowed hard, his eyes still darting between the real Lucien and the robot standing eerily still nearby.
The black Lambo roared back to life, tearing away from the mansion with all four of them inside. Daniel's small hands were tangled in Seraphine's hair, his giggles filling the cabin.
Asher leaned back, finally breathing. "You know," he said, glancing between them, "most families bond overboard games or vacations. You two really need to work on your hobbies."
Lucien smirked faintly. "This is our hobby."
Seraphine shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips as the lights of the mansion faded behind them.