Billionaire Boss Pretends To Be Broke On Every Blind Date — Until He Meets A Single Mom Who…
A Ghost of Mistakes
Marcus spent three days in a fog that alarmed everyone around him. He stopped showing up to the office entirely, communicating only through terse emails that handled the bare minimum of business.
The Singapore deal collapsed—a 50-million-dollar loss that he barely registered. David tried calling 17 times before giving up and handling the fallout himself.
The penthouse felt like a museum—all expensive furniture and empty space. Marcus found himself driving past Rachel’s neighborhood in the old pickup truck, never stopping, just circling like a ghost haunting his own mistakes.
He saw her once, leaving for work in her scrubs, and the exhaustion in her shoulders made his chest ache.
On the fourth day, Patricia Holmes from the museum called.
“Marcus, what on earth did you do?”
she demanded without preamble.
“I just had a very angry nurse show up demanding to know why there’s a Bennett Wing when you told her your name was Mark and you worked construction.”
Marcus sat up from where he’d been lying on his couch, staring at the ceiling.
“Rachel came to the museum?”
“With her daughter. The little girl wanted to see the butterflies again. Rachel saw your photograph, the one we rotated back into place, and apparently put two and two together.”
Patricia’s voice softened slightly.
“She was crying, Marcus. That beautiful little girl kept asking why her mommy was sad.”
The image hit Marcus like a physical blow.
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth. That you’re a generous donor who made the butterfly exhibit possible. That you funded children’s education programs across the city. That you’re actually one of the good ones, despite being an absolute idiot about dating.”
Patricia sighed.
“She didn’t want to hear it. But Marcus, she asked questions about your charitable work, about the hospital wing you funded at City General.”
“I funded a wing at her hospital?”
“Three years ago. The Pediatric ICU where she works.”
“Your donation upgraded their equipment, hired additional staff, saved countless children’s lives. Including, apparently, a little boy who came in last week from a car accident.”
Marcus remembered Rachel mentioning that case on their first date. The boy who’d stabilized, who’d survived.
Survived in a facility that his money had improved, using equipment his donation had purchased.
“She doesn’t know that part,”
Patricia continued.
“I didn’t tell her because I figured you should. If you’re brave enough.”
After hanging up, Marcus sat with this information for a long time. Then he called David.
“I need you to arrange something,”
Marcus said.
“And I need your honest opinion on whether I’m being a stalker or genuinely trying to make amends.”
“Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive with you lately,”
David replied dryly.
“What’s the plan?”
Marcus told him. David was silent for a long moment.
“That’s either the most romantic gesture I’ve ever heard, or a restraining order waiting to happen,”
David finally said.
“But for what it’s worth, I think you should try. You’ve been miserable, and I’ve never seen you care about anything the way you care about her.”
The setup took two days. Marcus called in every favor he had, moved mountains, and spent money in ways that felt purposeful for the first time in years.
And then, on Saturday morning, he drove to Rachel’s neighborhood and knocked on her door.
She answered in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, her hair in a messy bun. When she saw him, her expression turned icy.
“I asked you to stay away.”
“I know. And after today, if you still want me gone, I’ll disappear completely.”
Marcus held up his hands, showing he wasn’t carrying anything threatening.
“I just need 30 minutes. Please.”
“Sophie’s inside.”
“I know. That’s why I brought this.”
He gestured to his truck, where the back was loaded with three large boxes.
“The caterpillars should be turning into butterflies soon. I thought Sophie might like to release them somewhere special.”
Rachel’s jaw tightened.
“You can’t just buy your way into our lives.”
“I’m not trying to. I’m trying to apologize properly to both of you.”
Marcus met her eyes.
“30 minutes, Rachel. Then I’m gone, if that’s what you want.”
Rachel looked back into her house, where Marcus could hear children’s cartoons playing. Finally, she sighed.
“Fine. 30 minutes. But if Sophie gets upset, you leave immediately.”
“Agreed.”
Sophie appeared at the door, clutching her stuffed butterfly. Her eyes widened when she saw Marcus.
“Mommy, is that Mark?”
“His real name is Marcus, baby,”
Rachel said gently.
“And he has something to tell us.”
The Rooftop Garden
They sat in Rachel’s small living room, Sophie between them on the couch. The apartment was modest but warm, filled with Sophie’s artwork and photographs.
Marcus noticed a picture of Rachel in her nursing school graduation gown, beaming with pride, a baby Sophie in her arms.
“Sophie,”
Marcus began, his throat tight.
“I need to apologize to you. I told your mom my name was Mark, but my real name is Marcus. I wasn’t honest, and that was wrong. I’m very sorry.”
Sophie frowned, processing this.
“Why did you lie?”
“Because I was scared,”
Marcus admitted.
“Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes because they’re afraid. That doesn’t make it okay, but that’s the truth.”
“Were you scared of us?”
The question hit hard.
“No, sweetheart. I was scared you’d stop liking me if you knew something about me.”
Sophie considered this with five-year-old seriousness.
“My friend Mia’s dad lied about eating all the cookies once. He got in big trouble.”
“I bet he did. Lying usually gets us in trouble, doesn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.”
Sophie looked at her mother.
“Is Marcus in big trouble?”
“Yes,”
Rachel said firmly.
“Very big trouble.”
“Okay.”
Sophie seemed satisfied with this answer.
“Can we still let the butterflies go?”
Marcus glanced at Rachel, who gave a small nod.
“Actually, I found a really special place for that, if your mom says it’s okay.”
20 minutes later, they pulled up to City General Hospital. Rachel’s confusion turned to shock as Marcus led them not to the main entrance, but to a side door marked “Pediatric ICU Staff Only”.
“Marcus, what—”
The door opened, revealing Patricia Holmes and three hospital administrators behind them.
Through large windows was a newly constructed rooftop garden filled with flowers, butterfly bushes, and small trees. Children in hospital gowns were already there with their families, some in wheelchairs, some with IV poles, all of them pointing excitedly at the space.
“What is this?”
Rachel whispered.
One of the administrators, a woman named Dr. Chen, stepped forward.
“Ms. Morgan, Mr. Bennett approached us earlier this week with a proposal. He wanted to create a butterfly garden specifically for our pediatric patients—a place where they could experience nature during their recovery.”
“He expedited construction, personally oversaw the design, and ensured every plant was safe for children with various medical conditions.”
Marcus watched Rachel’s face cycle through emotions: confusion, realization, wonder.
Sophie was already pulling toward the garden, eager to see the butterflies.
“From Sophie’s kit,”
Marcus said quietly.
“I thought they deserved somewhere meaningful to start their lives. Somewhere that could bring joy to other kids who need it.”
Dr. Chen smiled.
“Mr. Bennett also didn’t tell you that he’s responsible for most of the equipment in our PICU. The ventilator that saved that little boy from the car accident last week—that was from the Bennett Foundation.”
“As were the monitors, the ultrasound machines, and the funding for two additional nursing positions—one of which might be yours soon, if you’re interested in that nurse practitioner program.”
Rachel’s eyes filled with tears.
“What?”
“The hospital will cover your tuition,”
Dr. Chen continued.
“Mr. Bennett established a scholarship fund for our staff members pursuing advanced degrees. You were already on our list of candidates before he ever met you. Your supervisors have been recommending you for months.”
“I didn’t know that,”
Marcus said quickly.
“I swear, Rachel, I only learned about it yesterday when I was researching the hospital. This was all in motion before we met.”
Sophie tugged on Marcus’s hand.
“Can we let the butterflies go now?”
