Lahat ng Kabanata ng His Possession Her Freedom : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Aadhya’s POV I noticed him before anyone announced his arrival. It wasn’t because he made noise. It was because the entire floor went quiet. Not the kind of quiet that comes from discipline or rules — but the kind that spreads instinctively, like every person suddenly became aware of something powerful entering their space. Advik Singhal walked in with Reena his Secretary and two board members, his expression unreadable, his steps steady and unhurried. He didn’t scan the office like someone unfamiliar with it. He moved like someone who had already memorised the place, as if the walls and glass partitions were just extensions of his authority. People straightened in their seats. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even the air felt different. I tried not to look at him. Truly, I did. But my eyes lifted on their own. He wasn’t what I had imagined a billionaire CEO would look like. No exaggerated confidence. No charming smile meant to impress. Just quiet control. Sharp features, ca

(Aadhya’s POV) I didn’t sleep that night. No matter how many times I closed my eyes, the same moment replayed in my mind — Advik Singhal standing in front of me, silent, unreadable, while I stood my ground and told him something no one else ever dared to say. You don’t need an assistant. You need a shadow. The words echoed like a mistake I couldn’t undo. By morning, the courage I had felt yesterday was gone. All that remained was a heavy, sinking fear. What have I done? I had challenged the CEO of Singhal Groups. Not privately. Not emotionally. Publicly. In his own boardroom. I dressed mechanically, my hands trembling slightly as I tied my hair. Every scenario played in my head — HR call, termination letter, security escorting me out. And the worst part? He hadn’t reacted. That kind of silence was more terrifying than rage. The staff canteen was unusually crowded, but I barely noticed the noise. My food sat untouched in front of me. Sneha slid into the seat op

Advik’s POV I watched her leave. Through the glass wall of my cabin. Aadhya walked out of the building like she always did — head high, steps steady, not once looking back. No hesitation. No curiosity about what I thought, what I felt, what I would do next. She didn’t seek validation or wait for permission.She didn’t belong to the place in the way others did. And that disturbed me more than anything else ever had. I stayed where I was long after the office noise swallowed her presence. The cabin felt different without her standing in it — quieter, emptier, like something essential had been removed without warning. For the first time, control felt insufficient. I had built my world on systems. Structures. Predictable patterns. People who responded exactly the way they were supposed to. Fear, admiration, ambition — all easy to manage. Women were the easiest of all. They admired the power. The wealth. The name. Some wanted my attention. Some wanted my status. Some wanted

Advik’s POV The moment Aadhya left my cabin, the space felt unfamiliar. The door closed behind her with the same quiet firmness she always carried with her presence. No hesitation. No backward glance. She didn’t wait to see my reaction, didn’t search for permission in my silence. She simply returned to her world — the one that existed comfortably without me. That disturbed me more than it should have. I remained standing where I was, my eyes fixed on the door long after she disappeared down the corridor. For her, the conversation had ended. For me, it had only shifted into another form. If I wanted Aadhya Suryavanshi to exist in my life beyond these walls, I needed to understand the world she came from. Not the version she showed in office — calm, composed, efficient. The real one. The one that shaped her decisions, her boundaries, her stubborn sense of freedom. I turned to Suraj. “Get me everything about her family,” I said. He looked up from his tablet. “Personal deta

Aadhya’s POV I didn’t realise I was shaking until he placed his hand lightly on my shoulder. “Aadhya.” His voice was calm. Too calm for the chaos around us. I turned and looked at him properly for the first time since he arrived. Not as my boss. Not as Advik Singhal, the man everyone feared and respected. Just… him. Standing in a hospital corridor at three in the morning, his eyes sharp, his posture alert, already scanning the environment like he belonged here. “How is she?” he asked. “They said it’s serious,” I whispered. “They don’t even know if she’ll survive. They said we need a foreign specialist. We don’t have the money. We don’t even have time.” I felt my throat close as the words spilled out. He didn’t interrupt. He just listened. Then he took the file from my hands. “Show me the reports.” I hesitated for a second before handing them over. He flipped through the pages quickly, his expression changing with every line he read. The calmness faded, replaced