《My Possessive CEO (Can love conquer pain?)》全部章節：第 131 章 - 第 140 章

“Move!”Leon doesn’t wait for me to react this time.He pulls me forward just as the ground beneath us fractures again, light spilling through the cracks like something alive is trying to break free.“Phase Two begins now.”That voice echoes again—clearer, closer.Not coming from above.Not from the system.From everywhere.“Leon, that’s not the same voice,” I say, trying to keep up as we run across the shifting terrain.“I know,” he replies sharply. “Which means it’s worse.”Great.Just great.The space around us flickers violently—what looked like an open exit moments ago begins to distort, walls forming out of thin air, pathways reshaping mid-run.“This place is rebuilding itself!” I shout.“No,” Leon corrects. “It’s reconfiguring.”“Same thing!”“No,” he says. “This is targeted.”My stomach drops.“Targeted… at us?”“Yes.”The corridor ahead splits into three paths instantly.No warning.No time.“Pick one!” I yell.Leon doesn’t slow.“Middle.”“Why?”“It’s the only one that hesit

“Let go!”The command tears out of me as the chair activates.Too late.The moment our hands touch the surface—everything locks.Metal restraints snap into place around our wrists, our arms, pulling us down into the structure with brutal force.“System override confirmed.”“Dual integration in progress.”“No—no, stop!” I struggle, but it’s useless. The grip is absolute.Leon doesn’t waste energy fighting blindly.He analyzes.Always.“Maria,” he says sharply, “look at me.”I do.Even as the world around us begins to distort again.Even as the chamber dissolves into fragments of light and memory.“Stay with me,” he adds.“I’m here,” I whisper.The chair hums violently—and then—it hits.Not pain.Not exactly.Something deeper.Memories flood in.Not mine.His.Cold rooms.Empty halls.Decisions made without hesitation.People reduced to outcomes.Control above everything.My breath stutters.“Leon…”“I know,” he says tightly. “I can see yours too.”My chest tightens.Because now—he

“Hold on!”The world fractures again—but this time, Leon doesn’t brace for impact.He pulls me closer.Not to protect.Not to shield.To anchor.The collapsing chamber freezes mid-fall.Shards of light hang suspended in the air like broken glass caught in time.The violent surge—stops.My breath catches.“What… just happened?” I whisper.Leon’s eyes move slowly around us, sharp, calculating—but there’s something else there now.Something steadier.“It’s stabilizing,” he says.“That’s not possible.”“It is now.”The system flickers again—but weaker this time.Less certain.“CORE RECALIBRATION… PARTIAL.”“EXTERNAL INTERFERENCE… CONTAINED.”I stare at the frozen chaos around us.“You stopped it?”“No,” he says. “We did.”The word lands differently now.We.Not control.Not dominance.Something shared.The air softens.The crushing pressure eases for the first time since we entered this place.And slowly—the fragments around us begin to lower.Not crashing.Settling.Reforming into some

“Leon?”My voice echoes into nothing.He’s right in front of me.I can see him.I can almost touch him—but whatever connection we had is gone.Cut.Clean.Like it never existed.“No…” I whisper, stepping forward.My fingers brush his arm—solid—real—but empty.His eyes meet mine.Sharp.Focused.But something is missing.“What did you do to us?” I demand, my voice rising.A slow clap echoes through the chamber.Once.Twice.Then—a figure steps out of the dimming light.Fully formed now.No distortion.No flicker.Just… real.“Impressive,” they say calmly. “You lasted longer than expected.”My chest tightens.Because now—I see them clearly.And everything inside me goes cold.“You…” I breathe.Leon’s gaze shifts slightly, tracking the movement, calculating.But he doesn’t react the way he should.Because he doesn’t feel it.The history.The weight.He’s looking at a stranger.“I know you,” I whisper.The figure smiles.“Yes.”Leon’s voice cuts in.“Explain.”I swallow hard.Becaus

“Stop.”Leon’s voice cuts through the surge of energy like a blade.Everything inside me freezes.Not because of the command.But because of the tone.Cold.Precise.Empty.The energy I was building falters slightly—but I force it back.“No,” I say, my voice steady despite the tremor in my chest. “I’m not stopping.”“Cease action,” he repeats, stepping forward.Closer.Too close.And yet—it feels like he’s miles away.“I’m doing this for you,” I say.“You are compromising system integrity.”“I don’t care about the system!”“I do.”The words land hard.Final.And something inside me cracks.The figure watches us both, silent now, observant—waiting.Always waiting.“Leon,” I try again, softer this time. “Listen to me. This isn’t you.”“I am functioning as intended.”“You’re not a function!” I snap. “You’re—”I stop.Because the word catches in my throat.Because if I say it—if I call him what he is to me—and he still looks at me like this—I don’t know if I’ll survive it.“You’re wha