Billionaire Boss Pretends To Be Broke On Every Blind Date — Until He Meets A Single Mom Who…
The Mystery Man
Outside the restaurant, the evening had turned cool. Rachel shivered slightly, and Marcus instinctively offered his jacket—a simple denim jacket, nothing like the thousand-dollar coats in his actual wardrobe.
“Thanks,”
she said, pulling it around her shoulders.
“So, I have a confession to make.”
Marcus’ heart stopped. Had she figured it out? Had someone recognized him and told her?
“I Googled you,”
Rachel continued, looking embarrassed.
“I know, I know. It’s weird, but Jennifer kept saying what a great guy you were, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t a serial killer or something before I introduced you to Sophie.”
“And?”
Marcus managed to ask, his mouth dry.
“And there’s, like, nothing. A few social media profiles that might be you, but they’re all pretty bare. No digital footprint at all, really.”
She laughed.
“Which is actually kind of refreshing. Everyone else I’ve met is all over social media, posting every meal and thought. You’re like a mystery man.”
Marcus forced a laugh that sounded hollow to his own ears.
“I’m just private. Never got into the whole social media thing.”
“I respect that. Sophie’s all over my Facebook; I’m definitely one of those moms, but I can see the appeal of keeping things offline.”
Rachel checked her phone.
“I should get going soon. Mrs. Chen’s probably watching late-night game shows with Sophie and teaching her to count cards or something.”
They walked to her car, neither of them quite ready for the evening to end.
Rachel leaned against the driver’s door, looking up at him.
“I really like you, Mark,”
she said.
“That probably sounds too forward, too fast, but I don’t have time to play games. Sophie adores you—she’s been talking about you all week—and I—”
She paused, seeming to gather courage.
“I haven’t felt this way about anyone since before she was born.”
Marcus felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff. This was the moment he should tell her everything, right now, before this went any further, before the lie became too big to fix.
“Rachel, I need to tell you something.”
His phone rang—not the burner phone he carried for these dates, but his real phone buried in his truck’s glove compartment.
He’d forgotten to turn it off, and the ringtone—distinctive, impossible to ignore—echoed through the quiet street.
“You should get that,”
Rachel said.
“Might be important.”
Marcus wanted to ignore it, but the ringtone meant emergency protocol. Only three people had that number: David, Karen, and his lawyer. They only used it for absolute crises.
“I’m so sorry,”
he said, jogging to his truck.
“Just one second.”
It was David, and he sounded panicked.
“Marcus, thank God. We have a situation. The Singapore deal is falling apart. They’re threatening to walk unless you’re on a video call in the next hour.”
“And there’s a reporter from Techwire at the office asking questions about your whereabouts. She seems to know about the dates, Marcus. Someone talked.”
Marcus’ blood ran cold.
“What do you mean, someone talked?”
“I don’t know yet, but she’s asking specific questions about you pretending to be a construction worker. She’s connected some dots. If she publishes this story—”
David didn’t need to finish the sentence.
Marcus looked back at Rachel, who was checking her phone, giving him privacy. She trusted him. Sophie trusted him.
And he was about to lose them both because he’d been too cowardly to tell the truth from the beginning.
“I’ll handle Singapore remotely,”
Marcus said quietly.
“And David, prepare a statement. I’m telling Rachel everything tonight.”
“Are you sure that’s—”
“I should have told her from the start. This is my mess to clean up.”
He ended the call and walked back to Rachel, every step feeling like wading through concrete.
“Everything okay?”
she asked, concern in her voice.
“Rachel, that thing I needed to tell you.”
Marcus took a deep breath.
“Can we go somewhere private? There’s something important you need to know about me, and I need to tell you before someone else does.”
Rachel’s expression shifted from concern to worry.
“Mark, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“I’m not who you think I am,”
Marcus said, the words finally breaking free.
“My name isn’t Mark. It’s Marcus. Marcus Bennett. And I’m not a construction project manager.”
Rachel stared at him, confusion clouding her features.
“I don’t understand. If you’re not—”
“I’m the CEO of Bennett Technologies. I have a penthouse downtown. I donated the wing to the museum where we took Sophie.”
The words tumbled out faster now, desperate.
“I’ve been lying to you since we met because every woman I’ve dated, after they learned who I really was, they changed. They stopped being real. And you were so genuine, so honest, and I just wanted someone to see me, not my bank account.”
The color drained from Rachel’s face. She took a step back, and Marcus saw the moment everything broke between them.
“You’ve been lying to me this entire time?”
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“About your name, your job, everything?”
“Not everything. My feelings for you are real. What we had tonight, that was all real.”
“How dare you!”
Rachel’s voice turned sharp, angry tears springing to her eyes.
“I told you I didn’t have time for games! I introduced you to my daughter! Sophie made you a drawing at school this week because she thought you were special, and you’ve been playing pretend this whole time!”
“Rachel, please—”
“I trusted you!”
She was crying now, fumbling for her car keys.
“I actually thought… God, I’m so stupid. You probably think this is hilarious. Poor single mom nurse falls for the billionaire playing dress-up.”
“It’s not like that at all, Rachel. If you just let me explain—”
“Explain what? That you’re a liar? I already figured that part out.”
She yanked open her car door.
“Stay away from me. Stay away from Sophie. I mean it, Marcus. We’re not some experiment for you to feel normal.”
“Rachel!”
But she was already in her car, engine starting.
Marcus watched her drive away, taillights disappearing into the night, and felt like his entire world was collapsing around him.
His phone rang again. David, probably, with more disasters to manage. But Marcus just stood there in the empty parking lot, finally understanding that all the money in the world couldn’t fix what he’d just destroyed.
