บททั้งหมดของ Sebastian's Possession |•| PM`Series 1: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

The seat of the first-class cabin felt like a gilded cage on wings—expensive, isolating, and fundamentally inescapable. I traced the condensation bead rolling down the windowpane. Outside, the lights of Manila shrank, fading into a darkness that felt less terrifying than the light I was leaving behind. I adjusted the cheap, oversized blazer I’d bought at a thrift store in a desperate attempt to look forgettable—a stark contrast to the designer cashmere I usually wore. This new wardrobe, this new identity, was a penance. I didn't deserve to sit here, flying to Manhattan on a ticket bought with my family's name. I believed I didn't deserve any luxurious thing because I hadn't sweat my ass off to enjoy it.They taught me that the life we lived was a gift, I thought, the sarcasm sharp enough to cut. A superior life. A dream come true. It was a lie. My youth wasn't comprised of fantasies, but of contorted falsehoods spun by parents obsessed with preserving a spotless façade. When I grew old

Paperwork, neatly stacked but endlessly generating, littered the floor and scattered across the wide, mahogany expanse of my desk. My office, occupying the entire top floor of the CazoS tower, felt more like a cage of steel and glass than a workspace. I was busy, finalizing documents that secured a hostile takeover—the kind of work that demanded precision and ruthlessness.Running a business—this empire—was the absolute last thing I wanted to do in my bachelor life, but I was bound by the Schulz name. I had two other siblings who could run this monstrosity. Payden, my younger brother, wanted nothing to do with any responsibility that might interrupt his latest pursuit of temporary fame. When Father insisted on a family dinner one night and told us about his impending retirement, Payden didn’t wait for the vote. That bastard flew across the country to be an actor, abandoning his duty and leaving me and my twin sister, Isla, to deal with the inevitable.Isla, on the other hand, was alrea

“I did nothing wrong unlike SOME people.” “Who are you talking about?” “I think we both know who we are talking about here.” “I do not know who you were referring to.” “Oh yes you do.” “You stole my cookie!” “I got it first.” “I called dibs on it!” “So what?” “That was the last piece, and you ate it whole!”“STOP! Can you guys stop!? It is just a stupid cookie, no need to fret your asses off!” Emmaline yelled, finally snapping.It had been half an hour since our little chaos in the kitchen, and now we were in the living room, cuddled up in my enormous, ridiculously expensive sofa, watching a series called “Riverdale.” Haines and Claude had somehow managed to turn the last piece of a simple chocolate chip cookie—a batch I had just baked—into a diplomatic crisis. I swear, these two can be a pain in the ass, but that is what made our friendship not boring. Emmaline, on the other hand, is more of a serious one, a motherly figure of us four that could scold and lecture you for hours without

“Ms. Mcfeller?” asked the woman whom I presumed was Mrs. Proy.I almost did not see her. She had a petite figure; I was almost a head taller than she was. She had a stern, professional expression on her face. Her black-grey hair was tied neatly in a severe bun. She looked around in her mid-fifties, radiating competence.“That is me,” I replied quickly, raising my right hand.“You are late.” She stated, looking pointedly at her wrist watch as she walked toward an office. I immediately followed behind her, knowing all too well that I was precisely late, which was entirely because of a jerk who was selfish enough to refuse to share an elevator.Does he even own it?!I swore internally: If I lost this job interview, I was going to hunt him down and beat the daylights out of him.“This is just an interview, and you are already late, Ms. Mcfeller. Even though you have not gotten the job yet, it is common knowledge to not be tardy for things like this. All of us are busy, I understand that, b

The compiled report, meticulously detailed and featuring three distinct, color-coded charts, was placed on Sebastian’s desk at 11:58 A.M. Two minutes early. I hadn't paused once. My shoulders ached, my eyes burned, and my fingers felt raw from the relentless typing, but the sheer satisfaction of delivering perfection was its own reward.Sebastian was on a call, his voice a low, clipped murmur that made it impossible to discern the subject, but the tension in the room was palpable. I didn’t dare interrupt. I simply placed the file precisely on the corner of his desk and retreated to my office without a word.I was starving. I had skipped breakfast and the concentration required to synthesize months of complex financial data had drained my energy reserves. I grabbed my purse, planning a quick run to the nearest café—certainly not the one where I had met Isla, I needed to maintain distance from her now that I knew her relationship with Sebastian.“Ms. Mcfeller.”His voice, sharp and immed