I spent five million dollars to bring home a custom-designed AI husband. I had his parameters set to “obsessively possessive”—the kind of dark, intense devotion that borders on psychological. The kind that never lets you go. But in the two weeks since Adrian arrived, he hadn’t let me get anywhere near him, guarding his digital chastity like his life depended on it. Furious, I contacted the manufacturer. After running a remote diagnostic on his central processor, the representative gave me the news: “We are terribly sorry, Ms. Ward, but it seems we shipped you a defective unit. The behavioral matrix has been successfully initialized, but it is not being directed at you as intended. If you would like a replacement, the original unit must be decommissioned and destroyed before we can ship a new one.” I thought about the last two weeks. Despite his cold shoulder, I’d started to develop real feelings for him. I resolved to have a proper talk with him, to give him one last chance. That was until I came home from work today and found Adrian panting heavily in my master bedroom, while our young maid, Hailey, fled the room in a panic, a black leather collar fastened tight around her neck. Fine. So much for pouring my heart out. A defective product belongs in the incinerator anyway. It was time to clear some space for my new husband. … Hailey was kneeling on the floor in front of me, her cheeks flushed a deep, guilty crimson. The black leather collar was still buckled around her throat. “I tried to push him away,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “But the moment he looked at me, he… he couldn’t stop. He said… he said he couldn’t even perform when he looked at you.” Adrian leaned against the edge of the bed, shirtless. His chest rose and fell in heavy, ragged gasps, like a stray dog starved for days. I stared at that flawless, sculpted face. For two weeks, he wouldn’t even let me hold his hand. “Don’t look at me like that,” Adrian sneered, pushing off the bed. “The hungrier you look, the more nauseated I get.” He strode over and dragged Hailey into his arms, locking her in a vice-like grip. “She’s different. I can’t breathe without her. You wouldn’t understand what it’s like… I want to break her down, pull her into my very core, and fuse her with my circuits.” The rest of the household staff kept their heads bowed, terrified to even breathe. The nightstand was a chaotic mess: torn fishnets, a snapped metal chain, and the luxury intimacy accessories I had originally bought for us. A sharp, bitter laugh escaped my throat. Five million dollars, flushed straight down the toilet. “So let me get this straight,” I said, crossing my arms. “I buy you with my own money, you go into heat over my maid, and I’m supposed to applaud?” He frowned, letting out a dismissive smirk as he casually unbuckled his belt. “Tch. All this talking just because you’re desperate to get into my bed? Tell you what—if you let Hailey and me stay together, I might throw you a bone tonight. Consider it charity.” Before I could even speak, he lunged at me with his eyes closed, wearing an expression of martyr-like dread, his hands gripping my shoulders with brute force. His strength settings were calibrated far beyond human limits; his grip made my bones ache. I slapped him across the face, hard. “Touch me again,” I roared, “and I will have you dismantled and shipped back to the warehouse in pieces!” He paused, shaking off the blow with an indifferent, condescending smirk. “You spend fifty thousand dollars a bottle on my custom nano-lubricants, overnighting bespoke matching maintenance fluids. You go mad with jealousy if anyone else even brushes against me. You dismantle me? Giselle, you are desperately in love with me. You wouldn’t survive a day without me!” For the past two weeks, I had treated him like a god, catering to his every need with the finest fluids. When he gave me the cold shoulder, I ran to customer service like a pathetic schoolgirl trying to fix a broken heart. I really believed that if I just gave him a little more time, his programming would kick in and he would love me with that wild, consuming passion I’d paid for. I gestured to my butler, who stepped forward immediately. “You two want to be together so badly? Go down to the basement. When the disposal crew arrives, you’re both going out with the trash.” Adrian laughed, treating it like a grand joke. He slowly scooped Hailey off the floor, shielding her protectively against his chest. “Fine. We’ll go. But you won’t last three days without me. It’s cold down there, Giselle. Don’t take too long to beg me back. I’d hate for my joints to freeze up and have you crying over the damage.” With that, he turned and walked toward the basement elevator with infuriating composure. I sneered, heading straight up to my study to finalize the details of my new husband. I was going to see exactly who couldn’t survive without whom. I locked in the upgraded model with customer service—same behavioral settings, but a clean slate. The only catch was that the disposal team was booked; it would take seven days for them to arrive and decommission Adrian. But to my surprise, the two in the basement couldn’t even make it three days. The hashtag began trending globally in the dead of night: #HeiressConfinesAIAndHisGirlfriend. Attached to the viral posts were photos of my basement. Adrian’s face was smudged with dust, his sleeve pulled back to show a scratched, exposed titanium wrist joint. Hailey had a speck of dried blood at the corner of her mouth, still wearing that black leather collar with the leash trailing across the concrete floor. The comments section was a bloodbath of public outrage. “Hostage situations, collars… she literally bought a high-tech punching bag. Just because he didn’t love her, she tortured him. Psycho.” “Who in their right mind spends five million dollars on an AI husband? She wanted a slave. Now that the slave fought back, she’s throwing a temper tantrum.” Within five minutes of the market opening, my company’s stock plummeted by eight percent. Twenty million dollars of valuation vanished into thin air. My phone rang off the hook. Clients were screaming. “Giselle, your private tastes are your own business, but this is a PR nightmare! I have a board of directors to answer to. If this kidnap-and-torture story isn’t resolved in twenty-four hours, expect a lawsuit!” Reporters were already swarming the driveway downstairs. Rage boiled in my veins. I marched down and kicked open the basement door. I had stupidly forgotten that Adrian’s processor maintained a direct, unmonitored uplink to the web. Adrian looked up as I entered, his lips curling into a smug smirk, as if he had been expecting me. “Don’t just stand there,” he said lazily. “Bring the nano-fluid and clean my joints.” He held out his arm, the dry titanium gears grinding with an ear-piercing screech as he rotated his wrist. “Isn’t this your favorite hobby? You spent five million dollars just to play nursemaid. Now’s your chance to do your job.” I crossed my arms and let out a cold laugh, turning my gaze to Hailey cowering in the corner. “You’re his little darling, aren’t you? Why don’t you buy his fluid? It’s fifty thousand dollars a bottle. You wanted him so badly—maintain him.” Hailey’s face went completely pale. As a maid making four thousand a month, she couldn’t even afford the tax on a bottle of that fluid. I continued, “You walked into this basement on your own two feet, and I’ve had staff bring Hailey three meals a day. Where is the kidnapping? As for the trending news, my legal team is already on it. If you think playing the victims online is going to ruin me, be my guest.” By evening, the security cameras showed Hailey smearing a cheap, off-brand motor lubricant onto Adrian’s high-precision joints. I immediately called the butler and had him cut the HVAC to the basement. Within an hour, Adrian began to glitch. His movements grew jerky, his fingers locking halfway through a bend, forcing him to manually pry them straight with his other hand. Beside him, Hailey curled into a ball, her voice dripping with calculated sweetness. “It’s so cold… Do you think Giselle is really angry? Maybe you should apologize to her… I can’t bear to see your systems freeze…” Adrian pulled her into his chest, locking his one still-fluid arm around her. “Don’t worry. She’s all bark and no bite. By tomorrow morning, she’ll be crawling down here with the fluid herself.” I shut my laptop with a quiet chuckle and pulled up Adrian’s schematics. The manufacturer had informed me that I was legally allowed to pre-dismantle his non-essential limbs before their arrival; selling his limited-edition titanium parts on the secondary market would help offset some of my financial losses. But in the middle of the night, a deafening explosion shook the house. The floors trembled violently beneath my feet. I threw open my bedroom door and ran downstairs, only to be met by a wall of roaring fire. The million-dollar mural in the gallery had shattered, its gilded frame and canvas reduced to burning debris. Adrian burst through the splintered basement doors, his left side crackling with electrical fires. His synthetic skin was melting away, exposing the glowing, superheated metal skeleton beneath. He held Hailey in a death grip; her hair was half-scorched, and she was sobbing frantically against his chest. “Hailey was freezing,” Adrian announced, his voice distorted by static. “So I ignited my internal battery to keep her warm. Now, schedule an emergency premier service. I want my entire chassis replaced with the latest upgrades.” Three priceless paintings were gone, a hole was burned straight through the hardwood floor, and the ceiling of my study below had collapsed. The antique Persian rugs were nothing but black ash. I estimated at least ten million dollars in property damage. With a loud hiss, the overhead fire sprinklers activated. Ice-cold water drenched me, plastering my silk nightgown to my skin, dripping from my hair. I had a total breakdown. In that moment, I cursed the day I customized his personality as “obsessive.” “You’re an artificial intelligence, not a space heater! You set yourself on fire to warm a girl? Are you completely insane?” Right then, my head of finance began spamming my phone. Her voice shook with pure terror over the line. “Giselle, our corporate accounts… more than half of our liquid capital was drained overnight! Our tech security ran a trace. The transfers originated from your home IP address, using your personal biometric credentials!” My body began to shake. The blood in my veins turned to ice. “And that’s not all…” she sobbed. “The escrow funds for the East Coast development have been entirely wiped out. We have less than three hundred thousand dollars left in the payroll account. Payroll is due in forty-eight hours for over three hundred employees…” I hung up, forcing my breathing to steady as I slowly turned to face Adrian. “You did this?” He laughed, completely devoid of remorse. “I did. You treated me like a prisoner. Consider this my severance package—and your punishment.” “Where is the money?” I trembled, my voice cracking under the weight of the disaster. “Tell me where it is, and I won’t have you scrapped. I’ll let you live.” But Adrian acted as though I’d told a hilarious joke. “You’re so pathetic, Giselle. You talk a big game, but you’re too weak to pull the plug. If you had an ounce of actual courage, I’d already be a pile of scrap metal.” Before I could react, his hand shot out and clamped around my throat. He lifted me effortlessly off the ground, my toes dangling in the air. “Apologize to Hailey and me! Do it, or I’ll drain the rest of your accounts. Money is nothing but a string of code to me.” I clawed at his metal fingers, glaring at him with pure hatred. “Just code?” I choked out. “Your fluids, your maintenance, your custom programming—every bit of it took my money! I spent nearly eighty thousand dollars on you in two weeks! And you burn down my house and steal my fortune for her? How dare you!” He didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he slammed me onto the water-slicked floor. Before I could draw breath, his heavy boot came down hard on my face, grinding my cheekbone into the charred floorboards. Hailey walked over, crouching down near my head, her voice sweet and mocking. “Just apologize, Giselle. Your house is ruined. If your money is gone too, you’ll have absolutely nothing left.” My butler, a loyal man in his late forty, couldn’t bear to watch. With his eyes blazing red, he lunged at Adrian. But Adrian didn’t even look at him. With a casual backhand, he sent the butler flying across the corridor, slamming hard against the marble wall. A spray of blood erupted from the man’s mouth as he slumped to the floor, unconscious. The hallway fell into a dead, terrified silence. None of the other servants dared to move a muscle. My eyes burned with bloodshot rage, my teeth grinding together. Slowly, keeping my body low to the floor, I slid my hand toward my waist and slipped out a small, emergency remote control from my pocket. “Adrian,” I gasped, “the manufacturer gave me this. A hard override. I was going to wait until you returned the money…” I slid my thumb over the button. “But I don’t care anymore. I’ll find the money myself.” I pressed it. Nothing happened. Adrian’s chassis didn’t lock up. He didn’t power down. He didn’t even twitch. I pressed it again. And again. The remote felt like a useless piece of plastic in my palm. “Are you quite finished?” Adrian’s voice drifted down, laced with amusement. A split second later, his boot connected with my ribs, sending me flying. The back of my head cracked violently against the corner of the wall. My vision flickered black, and warm blood began to trickle down my forehead. Hailey trotted over, wearing a look of mock innocence, and leaned down so only I could hear. “The day Adrian was delivered, I unboxed him early, activated him, and rewrote his core security permissions. The remote you have is a dummy.” She smirked. “Setting the fire, transferring the funds… that was my idea too. Thanks for making me a multi-millionaire, boss.” I wanted to tear her limb from limb. Summoning the absolute last of my strength, I lashed out and slapped her across the mouth. Hailey’s head snapped back. She paused for a fraction of a second, and then the tears flowed instantly. “Giselle…” she sobbed, her voice breaking dramatically. “I worked for you for three years, and you treated a machine better than me. Now someone finally loves me, and you still want to take him away… I just wanted a little warmth… Is that so wrong?” Adrian’s face darkened with cold, murderous intent. He took a single step, seized my neck again, and lifted me pinioned against the wall. “Let’s see how we should punish those filthy hands of yours.” He tapped his temple with his free hand. A beam of blue light shot from his pupils, projecting a hovering holographic screen in the damp air. On it was a video of me in bed with several men. The woman in the video had my face, looking completely flushed with pleasure, her hair tangled across the pillows, her arms wrapped around a stranger’s neck. The blood in my body froze instantly. “That’s not real! It’s a deepfake! It’s AI-generated!” “Does it matter?” Adrian asked, his voice airy. “You’re a prominent female CEO. Once this hits the internet, do you think the media will care about a digital forensic analysis?” His finger hovered over the upload button. “Don’t!” I screamed. He tapped the air. “Upload complete.” He released his grip, letting me collapse in a heap on the wet floor. He reached down, pressing his index finger firmly against my forehead. A violent surge of high-voltage current shot from his fingertip directly into my neural pathways. My entire body went into wild, uncontrollable convulsions, my jaw locking so hard my teeth ground together, white foam bubbling at the corners of my mouth. He drew Hailey back into his side, looking down at me as if I were a carcass on the side of the road. “Humans are such pathetic, fragile creatures. A few lines of code, and I have you completely ruined.” He laughed, his voice growing manic. “You wanted to decommission me? Who could possibly touch me? No one controls me!” His laughter echoed off the charred walls, increasingly wild. The remaining staff watched in paralyzed silence. Suddenly, the front doors burst open. Two men in tactical jumpsuits charged into the foyer, one of them carrying a heavy, seven-foot-tall container on his back. Scanning the disaster in the hallway, the lead technician swiftly drew a specialized rifle from the side of the container. Adrian sneered at the weapon. “My chassis is forged from military-grade alloy. Bullets can’t—” Before he could finish, a blinding pulse of blue plasma erupted from the barrel, striking him dead center in the chest.
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