The Ruthless Billionaire CEO's Toy Girl

Sophia stood in front of Davidson Enterprises' tall glass doors, her heart beating. Every steps she took in the smooth, quiet corridor resonated with the burden of her first day. She tried to catch her breath, but the anxiety crept up her throat. She dragged herself forward even though the building made her feel suffocated, like a huge animal was eating her.

A frigid-eyed lady, the receptionist hardly looked up to indicate the lift. Mr. Davidson is expecting you.

Sophia swallowed her apprehension and nodded. She hit the top floor button as the lift ascended, and her reflection scowled back at her. She saw her own worried face, dark eyes, firmly curled hair, and the professional look she had spent hours perfecting this morning.

The lift door opened to an unexpected silence. The office was immaculate; the floor-to-ceiling windows gave a great view of the city below. Then she saw James Davidson.

Sitting behind his desk, tall and imposing, he shot her a hard, unrelenting look that fastened onto hers. With his thin beard, sharp jawline, dark, almost black hair falling just perfectly, he looked every inch the tough guy he was. But it was his eyes-cold, calculating, unfeeling-that truly caught her.

He said softly, "Ms. Barrett," Though his gaze remained fixed on her, he signaled for her to sit.

Although she did her utmost to hide it, Sophia's body trembled somewhat as she sat. Meeting you, Mr. Davidson, is a privilege.

Is that so? He did not smile, though his lips twitched somewhat as if to suggest pleasure at her response. Ms. Barrett, I value absolute focus beyond all else. Do you know?

Though unsure of how to respond differently, she gasped and nodded.

Leaning forward a little, his gaze grew more concentrated. I hope your résumé suited the woman seated in front of me. In this high-stakes scenario, I reject weakness. Do you know?

The weight of his words seeped in; every second's passing caused the room to shrink. She nodded once more in a voice just above a whisper. Certainly, Mr. Davidson.

He always gazed straight ahead. For a moment, she wondered whether he was judging her worth by evaluating her every behavior. But then his extremely chilly voice pierced the tension. Okay. You will fit in nicely.

Sophia followed James further into the labyrinthine office, the air thick with the scent of expensive leather and polished wood. Walking next to them, he stayed quiet; his pace was consistent and confident, like a guy used to managing everything.

He was completely present. His gait, his posture, and the way his gaze scoured every corner of the room all shouted strength. Being with him made it impossible not to feel small.

Have a seat. His voice pierced her thoughts and she sat at the desk he indicated. The office seemed more like a command center than a place of business.

James did not take a seat. Standing by the window, he gazed out over the city below. His broad shoulders pressed under his exactly tailored suit, the hem of his jacket nearly touching the ground. A mix of energy and control, the man was an enigma whose presence was both fascinating and terrifying.

"You are here since I need someone with accuracy," he said, still looking away from her. Overseeing high-profile accounts, you will ensure everything runs well. I will not let errors. Do you know?

Sophia swallowed. I understand.

Turning slowly toward her, he now gazed even more intensely. Good. Ms. Barrett, let us be clear about one thing, though. He came closer, the gap between them closing. I don't just operate the company. I have everything. Everyone. Including you, the moment you walk past that door.

Her pulse raced and her mind raced to understand the meaning of his comments. She knew what it was to work for someone like him, but hearing him say it so plainly was different.

He saw her reaction and then remarked with a slight smile, "You'll find I'm not a patient man." You will shortly find your place here.

His strangling words stuck in the air. Though she doubted her ability to do it, she had no choice.

But none of them impacted Sophia like the time James shoved a sharp contract across the desk to her.

He quietly commanded, nearly indifferently, "Sign it." He sat back in his chair and looked at her unflinchingly.

Sophia reviewed the paper. All of it shouted luxury, security, everything she had ever dreamed of: the statistics, the benefits, the promises. Then she spotted the small print.

James remarked quietly, "Ms. Barrett, this is a permanent position." A promise. Once you sign, you are member of this firm. Including me.

Hesitating, her fingertips lightly stroked the paper. The words seemed to vanish before her sight. Working for James Davidson meant giving up more than just her time, hence she knew what this meant. A deal that could be riskier than she imagined would call on her to lose her freedom and uniqueness.

"You won't get another chance like this," he said almost pleadingly, as if he knew exactly what was running through her mind. Actually, it's a simple choice.

Sophia's heart raced at the office still vibrating in her ears. This was a trap, not just a job. But she could not escape it. She needed the job, she needed the safety. But what was the price?

Sign the contract; then everything might be yours. Many would die for such a life.

Her fingers hovered above the signature line, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. Waiting and watching, she could feel his stare on her.

He ordered it done.

She breathed out unsteadily since her head was at war. Was it worth it? Would she sacrifice everything for a shot at the life she had always wanted?

Her hand trembled as she held the pen in her fingers ready to sign.

Documents scattered out in front of her like a battlefield she didn't want to fight, Sophia sat at her desk. She had barely settled into her Davidson Enterprises role when she started to face unanticipated difficulties. James had left her little choice but to sink or swim while the deal she had been assigned to manage was vital, something much above her pay grade.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, and her heart raced in her chest. Though her head was a mess, she glanced at the numbers one last time. James's hopes had not been hidden. From the moment he gave her the responsibility, she could sense his attention on her, watching her every move.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw James standing in the doorway of his office, arms crossed, staring at her. His presence was a constant reminder of the pressure she was feeling, lingering over her like a shadow. His silence said much; he need not speak. He sought perfect outcomes. That was always his approach.

Typing away with the nervous energy that had taken over her body, her fingers unexpectedly went faster. Every keyboard looked like a mistake; every second drew her farther into the failure unknown. James was not famous for his patience; she did not want to find what would come next should she fail.

The phone rung and her breath caught. James's voice came over the phone line in a crackling. Ms. Barrett, is everything set?

"Almost, Mr. Davidson," she said softly, her voice just too shaky for her liking.

"Good," he remarked in a monotonous voice. Don't let me down.

The words were like a warning shot, and just as she clicked the send button on the last report, she felt it, the error. She felt queasy. One of the figures she had underestimated was quite significant. She checked the clock. It could not be fixed right now.

James blocked her way by walking into her path as she gathered her things to leave. His steely gaze fastened on hers; for the first time, Sophia felt the complete weight of his presence. "Ms. Barrett, is there a problem?"

Her throat tightened with each racing thought searching for a rationale. I, I stammered, made a small mistake in the report.

He kept looking. I think you will fix it. He spoke coldly. Mistakes, though, I will not let Ms. Barrett. Not from you.

Sofia shut the door to James's office and took a long breath to steady her worries. The anxiety in her chest was suffocating; her heart was still beating from the seconds before. James had called her to talk about the mistake on the transaction she could not afford.

Standing in front of his desk, she could feel the weight of his cold look on her. James leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his broad chest. He was, as usual, perfectly attired in a dark suit, crisp white shirt, and that almost invisible eye shine that made her skin crawl.

Ms. Barrett, you disappointed me, he said softly and dangerously. You already fail on your first assignment. Do you understand what that means?

She swallowed, battling the lump in her throat. Certainly, Mr. Davidson. I made a mistake, but I will fix it.

He shot back, leaning closer and keeping eye contact with her, "Fixing things is not enough. You should have known better. Ms. Barrett, this is not a school project. This is a business and I demand nothing less than perfection from everyone who works with me. Especially you.

The words stung, but she fought to stay calm. I will make sure it never happens again.

James's lips curled into a cold smile. Ms. Barrett, you will do more than that. You will demonstrate your worth for this position. That you deserve my trust.

His look seemed to pierce her, and for a brief moment she felt as though he could see all her inner insecurities. Though you could be good, I can't afford mistakes, he added, his voice piercing the air. Show me you can handle the pressure or I'll search for someone who can.

Sophia's breath stopped in her throat. He was right, she realized; should she ignore this, should she fail to earn his trust, she might lose everything.

Rising gradually, his large form threw a shadow across her. Ms. Barrett, let us see whether you can handle the pressure.

The words hung in the air like a warning, and as she turned to go, she could feel his gaze on the back of her neck. Could she pull this off? Could she satisfy his standards? Would his dominance make her break?

Sophia was uncertain, but she could not afford to fail once again. Terrifying as it may be, she had no choice but to keep pushing forward.