:Claire lost her parents at a young age,she was raised by her grandmother who was barely able to provide for both of them and because of this she learnt how to care for herself at a young age. After graduation from college,with the help of some friends she was able to land her first job as a personal assistant for a popularly known billionaire. Just after she started working,her grandma fell sick and needed immediate treatment, Claire barely raised the money to get her grandma basic treatment only to be told by the doctor that her grandma was going to need surgery. She couldn't raise the money so of course she ran to her boss for help and he made her an offer,to get married to him and get the money she needs or to continue working her ass off and make peanuts that wouldn't sustain her grandma's life for long.
Chapter 1 Welcome to hell on earth
Chapter One: Welcome to Hell on Earth
Her POV
Oh my God.
I was going to be late. On my very first day.
Practically throwing myself into a cab, I left my grandma at the clinic with a rushed kiss on her forehead and a hasty promise to call. The pounding in my head from last night's ill-advised tequila shots was unrelenting, but I had consumed enough caffeine to jolt even a corpse into action.
As the cab sped toward Davenport Enterprises, I mentally berated my past self for thinking that drowning my stress in alcohol was even remotely a good idea.
By the time I stumbled into the towering glass building, I was already out of breath. But there was no time to gather myself. My heels clicked frantically against the polished marble as I bolted to the top floor.
Jesus. When was the last time I ran?
I arrived at my desk gasping for air, every breath shallow and frantic. Not exactly the poised and professional entrance I had envisioned. Attempting to smooth my blouse and compose myself, I took a deep breath before peeking into Aaron Davenport's office, bracing for my immediate dismissal.
But... he wasn't there yet.
Relief washed over me, leaving my knees weak. Quickly, I arranged my desk, trying to project an image of calm efficiency.
And then he walked in.
Aaron Davenport.
The boss. The billionaire. The man with a reputation colder than a Siberian winter.
The moment he entered, the atmosphere shifted. The tension in the office became palpable, as though someone had turned a dial to its maximum setting. People stiffened in their chairs; some even flinched as he strode past.
And me?
I froze.
Because the man sweeping by without so much as a glance in my direction was the very same man I had shared a night of marvelous, mind-blowing sex with less than 12 hours ago.
I felt my soul leave my body.
No. No, no, no, no.
I couldn't be here. I couldn't work for him.
But then I thought of Grandma. Of the mounting medical bills. Of the friends who had pulled strings to secure me this opportunity.
So, I stayed.
Even as nausea churned in my stomach and my pulse thundered in my ears, I stayed.
"Miss Woodward."
His voice sliced through my internal panic like a blade. Deep. Commanding.
Swallowing hard, I stepped into his office, determined to maintain my composure. If he wasn't going to acknowledge what happened, neither would I.
"What do you need, sir?" I asked, keeping my tone as professional as possible.
Without sparing me a glance, he slid a stack of files across the desk. "Read through these and report back by noon."
His focus remained fixed on his computer screen, not a single flicker of recognition crossing his features.
Fine. This was fine. I could do this.
I turned to leave, but before I could reach the door, the intercom buzzed again.
Are you kidding me?
Grinding my teeth, I spun back around and re-entered his office. This time, I took in my surroundings properly.
The space was massive. Every detail screamed luxury and power. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the sprawling city skyline, and every piece of furniture was meticulously curated to exude authority.
In the middle of it all stood Aaron Davenport.
He leaned casually against his desk, arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression unreadable.
At twenty-seven, he was already one of the youngest billionaires in the country. Ruthless, brilliant, and untouchable.
There were rumors, of course-whispers about his cutthroat business tactics, his uncanny ability to remain in control, and his enigmatic nature. No one truly knew what went on behind those piercing black eyes.
But one thing was certain: Aaron Davenport was perfect.
And not in a good way.
He pushed off the desk and took a step closer. My breath hitched as his towering frame loomed over me.
"Miss Woodward," he began, his voice smooth yet commanding. "You're my assistant. Start acting like it."
I stiffened, every nerve on edge.
"You will be available whenever I need you. No excuses. No delays. No distractions."
He let the words settle, his lips curving into a faint, almost mocking smirk.
"And I expect perfection. Do I make myself clear?"
The air felt stifling, heavy with unspoken tension.
"Yes, sir," I managed to whisper, forcing myself to meet his gaze.
He studied me for a moment longer before turning back to his desk, dismissing me as though the interaction had never occurred.
Holy. Hell.
This job was going to be a nightmare.
But I had no other choice.
Later that night, when Grandma asked how my first day went, I forced a smile and lied.
"It was fine," I told her.
She didn't need to know I was currently residing in hell.
Chapter 1 Welcome to hell on earth
03/04/2025