Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Possessive CEO (Can love conquer pain?): Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

“MOVE!”My voice tears out of me as the thing lunges again—too fast—too precise—too perfect.Leon doesn’t hesitate.Of course he doesn’t.He steps in instead of back—meets it head-on—impact echoing through the room like a gunshot.Bone.Muscle.Force.Real.Violent.Unforgiving.They collide.And for a second—just a second—it looks almost even.Almost.“Maria—get out!” he snaps.“No!”I don’t even think.I just move.Because leaving him—again—is not an option.Not this time.Not ever.The device in my hand pulses violently.Red.Blue.Red.Blue.Faster.Unstable.Critical.“Final phase approaching.”My breath catches.Not now.Not now.“Leon—”“Focus!” he cuts in, slamming the other one back hard enough to crack the wall behind it.It doesn’t stay down.Of course it doesn’t.It rises again—silent—empty—unstoppable.Like I almost was.“Stop!” I shout at it.Useless.It doesn’t hear me.Doesn’t feel me.Doesn’t remember.And that—that’s what breaks something inside me.Beca

“Again.”The command hits like a trigger.I move instantly.No hesitation.No delay.The man in front of me barely has time to react before I close the distance—fast, precise, controlled. My hand locks around his wrist, twisting hard enough to disarm him. The weapon drops.I don’t.I finish it.Clean.Efficient.Final.He collapses.“Too slow,” the instructor says calmly from the sidelines.I release the body without looking at it.Because it doesn’t matter.None of this does.“Reset.”Another one steps forward.Bigger.Stronger.Irrelevant.“Begin.”He attacks first.Mistake.I shift slightly—minimal movement, maximum effect. His strike misses by centimeters. My response doesn’t.Impact.Break.Silence.He drops harder than the last.I step back.Still breathing.Still steady.Still—empty.“Improvement noted,” the voice says through the speakers.“Emotional response?”I don’t need to think.“None.”“Good.”---Hours later—or maybe days—time doesn’t feel real here.Nothing does.I

“Wake up.”The command hits—and I obey.Eyes open.Dark ceiling.Cold room.Different.Not the facility.Not the white walls.Not the controlled silence.Something has changed.---I sit up slowly.No restraints.No visible surveillance.No immediate voices.That alone—is wrong.“Good,” a voice says from the shadows.Not the system.Not the handlers.Something else.Something… human.I turn.A man steps forward.Tall.Calm.Smiling.But not like the others.Less clinical.More—interested.“Recovery complete,” he adds.I study him.Assess.Unknown.“Designation?” I ask.He chuckles softly.“Still clinging to that?” he says.“Asset M-17.”“No.”The word cuts clean.Final.“That’s not what you are anymore.”---A flicker.Small.Sharp.Dangerous.“What am I?” I ask.He steps closer.Not afraid.Not cautious.Like he already knows the answer.“You’re evolving.”Incorrect.I am stable.Controlled.Functional.“Clarify.”He smiles wider.“I prefer a different term,” he says.“A name.”Na

“Sign it.”The pen slides across the table—stopping inches from his shaking hand.Across from me, the chairman of Halberg Industries looks like he hasn’t slept in days.Good.That means the pressure worked.“I… I need more time,” he says, voice tight. “This is a full acquisition. My board—”“Your board already voted,” I cut in.Silence.Sharp.Precise.Because he knows I’m right.“They voted against it,” he says weakly.“They voted for survival.”---The room tightens.Executives on both sides sit frozen, watching a man decide whether he keeps his empire—or loses everything.I lean back slightly, calm, controlled.Untouchable.“Your shipments are delayed. Your accounts flagged. Your investors are nervous,” I continue. “Give it another forty-eight hours and your company collapses.”His eyes widen.“How—”“Because I’ll make sure it does.”No anger.No raised voice.Just fact.---“Mr. Vitorino—” one of his advisors tries.I don’t even look at him.“Sit down.”He does.Immediately.---

“Don’t.”The word leaves my mouth the exact second her finger tightens on the trigger.For a heartbeat, everything holds.Her eyes lock onto mine. Not soft. Not broken. But not empty either.Then—Click.The sound is quiet. Almost insignificant.But it hits harder than a gunshot.No bullet.Silence crashes over the corridor.My men react instantly, weapons snapping up, tension surging through the air, but I don’t even glance at them.I don’t need to.I’m still looking at her.Maria lowers the gun slowly, her expression unreadable. There’s no panic, no surprise.She knew it wasn’t loaded.“You didn’t load it,” I say, my voice calm but edged.Her lips press together slightly. “Would you have moved if I did?”A dangerous question.“No.”The answer comes without hesitation.Because it’s the truth.Her gaze sharpens, something flickering deep within her eyes. Something buried. Something fighting to surface.Then it disappears.“You’re either very brave,” she says quietly, “or very stupid.”