CEO Hid His Wealth to Test a Blind Date—Then Love Ruined the Plan
Ethan Shaw hated suits.
Not in a dramatic way. Not some childhood trauma thing. He just hated how they made people assume things. Intelligence. Power. Intent. Like fabric could decide your character.
That was exactly why he stood in front of the bathroom mirror wearing a faded gray hoodie, worn boots, and jeans that had seen better decades.
“You’re really doing this?” Mark asked from the doorway, arms crossed, disbelief written all over his face.
Ethan adjusted the brim of the old baseball cap. “What’s wrong with it?”
“You look like you’re about to argue with a parking meter.”
“Perfect,” Ethan said. “That’s the point.”
Mark rubbed his temple. “You’re the CEO of Shaw Industries. You’re meeting a woman your family picked to stop a billion-dollar marriage alliance. And you’re dressed like a guy who borrows ladders and never returns them.”
Ethan shrugged. “If she’s here for money, the clothes won’t matter. If she’s not, neither will the prenup.”
Mark sighed. “And if she is here for money?”
“Then I walk away,” Ethan said flatly. “I’d rather lose a deal than marry a stranger who sees me as a bank account.”
A pause.
“And if you’re wrong?” Mark asked.
Ethan met his eyes in the mirror. “Then I’m wrong fast. That’s better than being trapped.”
The café was too nice for what Ethan was wearing.
Polished wood. Soft jazz. Coffee that cost more than lunch at a diner. The kind of place where nobody talked too loud and everyone pretended not to notice each other.
He spotted her immediately.
Grace Collins.
She sat straight-backed at a corner table, fingers wrapped around a porcelain cup like it owed her money. Clean coat. Minimal makeup. Sharp eyes that flicked to the door every time it opened.
She looked… tired. Not physically. Mentally. Like someone who’d been forced into too many “important” conversations lately.
Ethan exhaled. Okay. This might be awkward.
He walked over.
“Grace Collins?” he asked.
She looked up—and her expression froze.
Not surprise. Not curiosity.
Disappointment.
“Yes,” she said. “And you are…?”
“Ethan,” he replied, pulling out the chair. “Nice to meet you.”
She didn’t smile.
She didn’t sit back either.
They stared at each other for half a second too long.
Grace’s inner voice screamed.
That’s it? That’s who they sent?
No suit. No watch. No confidence swagger. Just… normal. Worse—plain. The Goo—sorry, Collins—family had hyped this “candidate” up like a lifeline.
And this was him?
She glanced at the exit. Briefly. He noticed.
“Do you want to order?” Ethan asked, breaking the silence.
“No,” she said too quickly. “I’m not hungry.”
He nodded. “That’s fine.”
Another pause.
The coffee steamed between them like a third, awkward date.
Finally, Grace spoke. “Let’s be honest. Why are you here?”
“Blind date,” Ethan said. “Same as you.”
She laughed once. Sharp. “No. I’m here because my family wants me married. Now. Preferably yesterday.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Same.”
She studied him. Really studied him this time.
“What do you do?” she asked.
“I work construction,” he said smoothly. “Project side. Long hours. Not glamorous.”
That did it.
Her shoulders relaxed—but not in a good way.
“I see,” she said, already standing. “Then I think we’re done.”
Ethan blinked. “Just like that?”
“Yes.” She grabbed her bag. “I don’t have time for this.”
“For what?” he asked. “Coffee?”
“For pretending,” she snapped. “My family may be desperate, but I’m not stupid.”
He stood too. “Grace, wait.”
She turned. Her eyes were sharp now. Defensive.
“I’m not looking for someone to save me,” she said. “And I’m not here to save anyone else either.”
“I never said—”
“You didn’t have to,” she interrupted. “I can tell.”
Then she walked out.
The bell over the door chimed softly.
Ethan stood there, stunned.
Mark texted immediately.
Mark:
Did she run?
Ethan stared at the empty chair.
Ethan:
She didn’t even finish her coffee.
Twenty minutes later, Grace stood on the sidewalk outside, arms crossed, furious at herself.
Why am I even upset? she thought. I didn’t want this.
Her phone rang.
“Tell me that wasn’t him,” she said the second she answered.
Her friend Lily groaned. “Grace… I swear, I didn’t know he’d show up like that.”
“Like what?” Grace snapped. “Like someone who thinks marriage is a group project?”
“Okay, rude,” Lily said. “But listen—I messed up earlier too. The first guy I met today? Absolute nightmare.”
Grace paused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean booger-in-the-water nightmare,” Lily said. “I owe you big time. So I found another guy. Tall. Handsome. Real job. Not family-connected. Totally random.”
Grace hesitated. “I’m done for today.”
“Five minutes,” Lily begged. “Same café. He’s late.”
Grace sighed. “Fine. Five minutes.”
She turned—
And nearly collided with a man walking toward the entrance.
Broad shoulders. Work jacket. Slightly messy hair. Clean eyes.
He looked surprised too.
“Oh—sorry,” he said. “Didn’t see you there.”
Grace blinked.
Oh. Oh no.
“Are you… waiting for someone?” he asked.
She swallowed. “Yes. Are you?”
He nodded. “Blind date. Apparently.”
They stared at each other.
A beat.
Then both laughed.
“Want to go back inside?” he asked.
She smiled—really smiled this time.
“Yeah,” she said. “I think I do.”
From across the street, Ethan Shaw watched them through the café window.
The woman who’d walked out on him ten minutes earlier was laughing now.
With another man.
Mark pulled up beside him. “You good?”
Ethan didn’t answer right away.
“She’s not wrong,” he said finally. “This world does judge by appearances.”
Mark hesitated. “You want me to interfere?”
Ethan shook his head slowly.
“No,” he said. “If she’s meant for someone else, I’ll know.”
He watched Grace laugh again.
And for the first time that day, the plan felt… shaky.
PART TWO: THE MARRIAGE THAT SHOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED
Grace didn’t usually make reckless decisions.
She was the kind of person who read contracts twice, triple-checked alarms, and cut sandwiches straight down the middle. Reckless wasn’t her brand.
So when she found herself sitting across from a man she’d known for less than an hour, signing papers that would legally bind them together, her brain lagged behind reality.
“Last chance to back out,” the clerk said without looking up.
Grace glanced sideways.
Ethan—no, the other Ethan, construction Ethan—sat beside her, posture stiff, jaw tight, hands folded like he was trying not to touch anything.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
She nodded. Then shook her head. Then nodded again.
“My family’s forcing a marriage,” she said, words tumbling out. “If I don’t do this today, I lose everything. My apartment. My accounts. My job prospects. They already froze one card this morning.”
He frowned. “That’s… extreme.”
“You don’t know my family.”
He hesitated. “I have a kid.”
The words hit her harder than she expected.
She turned fully toward him. “You have a what?”
“A son,” he said. “Four years old. He lives with my grandmother most of the time. I work a lot.”
Grace searched his face for deceit.
She didn’t find any.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?” he echoed.
She shrugged. “I like kids.”
The clerk cleared her throat. “Sign here if you’re proceeding.”
Grace picked up the pen.
Her hand shook—just a little.
This is insane, a small voice whispered.
She signed anyway.
The apartment was… modest.
Clean. Too clean. Like someone had scrubbed away personality to make room for survival.
Grace stepped inside, heels in hand, scanning the space.
“Sorry,” Ethan said. “It’s small.”
“I’ve lived smaller,” she replied honestly.
She set her bag down, then froze.
“So,” she said, suddenly aware of how close he was. “Where do I sleep?”
He blinked. “Oh. Uh. The bedroom is yours.”
“And you?”
“I’ll take the couch.”
She frowned. “We’re married.”
“Legally,” he said quickly. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Something warm stirred in her chest.
“That’s… considerate,” she said.
He shrugged. “I’m not a jerk.”
She smiled faintly. “Good. I hate jerks.”
They stood there, awkward, married strangers in borrowed time.
Then Grace’s phone buzzed.
Her mother’s name lit up the screen.
She declined the call.
It rang again.
She silenced it.
“She’ll keep calling,” Grace said quietly. “They all will.”
Ethan hesitated. Then said, “You can stay as long as you need.”
Grace looked at him. “You don’t even know me.”
He met her eyes. “I know what it’s like to be cornered.”
Three days later, the rumors started.
Not about Grace—about him.
“Construction worker with no house, no car, and a kid?” her aunt sneered over speakerphone. “Grace, have you lost your mind?”
Grace stared at the wall, phone pressed tight to her ear. “I married who I wanted.”
“You married a burden.”
“That ‘burden’ is my husband.”
A pause. Then laughter.
“Oh sweetheart,” her aunt said. “You’ll come crawling back. They always do.”
The call ended.
Grace threw the phone onto the couch and pressed her palms into her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“For what?” Ethan asked from the kitchen, holding two mugs of instant coffee.
“For dragging you into this.”
He handed her a mug. “You didn’t drag me. I walked in.”
She studied him over the rim.
“You’re… calm about this.”
“I’ve survived worse,” he said.
She didn’t ask.
The jewelry store incident happened on a Wednesday.
Grace had insisted on buying rings.
“Even if we don’t have a wedding,” she said, tugging Ethan into the mall, “we should at least look married.”
“I can’t afford—”
“I’m paying,” she cut in. “I’m not helpless.”
Inside the store, the sales associate smiled thinly.
“May I help you?”
Grace pointed. “Those.”
The associate glanced at Ethan’s work jacket, then back at Grace.
“That set is very expensive,” she said slowly. “Are you serious buyers?”
“Yes,” Grace replied.
The associate sniffed. “They’re 18,000 each.”
“We’ll take them,” Grace said.
Ethan stiffened. “Grace—”
“Card, please,” she told the associate.
The card reader beeped.
DECLINED.
Grace’s face drained of color.
“No,” she whispered. “That’s impossible.”
The associate smirked. “Maybe check your balance before pretending.”
Grace’s hands trembled. “They froze my account.”
“Shocking,” the associate said. “Trying to act rich while broke. And keeping a boy toy too?”
Before Grace could react, Ethan stepped forward.
“First,” he said calmly, “we’re legally married.”
The associate scoffed.
“Second,” he continued, voice low, “comparing you to my wife is like comparing a crow to a phoenix.”
Grace sucked in a breath.
“And third,” he finished, “we’re buying the ring.”
The manager appeared suddenly, pale.
“Sir,” he said, bowing slightly, “we’ll cover the cost.”
Grace blinked. “What?”
“It’s our anniversary promotion,” the manager said quickly. “You’re our hundredth customer.”
The associate stared, speechless.
Ethan took Grace’s hand.
“Put it on,” he murmured.
She slid the ring onto his finger, heart racing.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For standing up for me.”
He squeezed her hand. “Always.”
That night, Grace couldn’t sleep.
She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything.
The ring. His voice. The way he didn’t hesitate.
Her chest felt… tight.
She rolled onto her side.
And whispered, barely audible, “Ethan?”
From the couch: “Yeah?”
“Why did you marry me?”
Silence.
Then, honestly: “Because you didn’t look down on me.”
She closed her eyes.
That answer stayed with her far longer than she expected.
Across the city, in a glass tower lit like a crown, Ethan Shaw removed his cap and loosened his tie.
Mark stood beside him, arms crossed, worry etched deep.
“This is getting complicated,” Mark said.
Ethan stared out at the city.
“She paid for rings she couldn’t afford,” he said softly. “She defended me when everyone else mocked.”
Mark hesitated. “She doesn’t know who you are.”
“No,” Ethan said. “And if she finds out the wrong way… she’ll hate me.”
“So tell her.”
“Not yet,” he whispered.
Because somewhere between the lie and the truth—
He was already falling.
PART THREE: THE TRUTH NEVER STAYS QUIET
The truth didn’t explode.
It leaked.
It seeped in through cracks Grace didn’t know were there yet—small moments that didn’t line up, details that tugged at her instincts like loose threads.
It started with a phone call.
“Mrs. Shaw?” a woman’s voice asked politely.
Grace frowned. “Yes?”
“This is Shaw Group HR. We’re confirming emergency contact details for Mr. Ethan Shaw.”
Grace laughed reflexively. “You have the wrong Ethan.”
A pause. Papers shuffling.
“No,” the woman said carefully. “I don’t think I do.”
The line went dead.
Grace stood in the kitchen long after the call ended, phone pressed to her ear, heart pounding.
Shaw Group.
The name echoed.
She’d seen it everywhere—headlines, billboards, finance articles. One of the largest private conglomerates in the state.
And her husband… carried bricks?
That night, she waited.
Ethan came home late.
Later than usual.
He smelled faintly of cologne—not his cheap soap. Something expensive. Controlled.
Grace didn’t look up from the couch.
“How was work?” she asked.
He hesitated.
“Busy,” he said.
That was all it took.
Grace stood.
“Who are you?”
Silence.
He turned slowly.
“What do you mean?”
She walked toward him, eyes bright, dangerous.
“I mean,” she said, voice steady but thin, “why does HR from Shaw Group have my number?”
The room felt suddenly smaller.
Ethan exhaled.
Long. Heavy.
“I was going to tell you,” he said.
“When?” she snapped. “After ten years? After I introduced you as ‘my construction-worker husband’ to everyone who mocked me?”
“I didn’t lie to hurt you.”
“But you did lie,” she said. “Every day.”
He nodded once.
“Yes.”
Her chest tightened. “So it’s true.”
“Yes.”
“You’re the CEO.”
“Yes.”
She laughed—once. Sharp and broken.
“You tested me.”
“No,” he said quickly. “I tested the world. You just… walked into it.”
Her eyes filled.
“I told you,” she whispered, “that I hate liars.”
“I know.”
“And cheaters.”
“I never cheated.”
“You stole my choice,” she said. “You decided who I was allowed to fall in love with.”
That landed.
Hard.
Ethan didn’t defend himself.
He deserved that one.
“I fell in love with you,” Grace continued. “Not your money. Not your power. And now I don’t even know what’s real.”
Her hands trembled.
“Was any of it real?”
He stepped forward—then stopped himself.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “Every moment that mattered.”
She stared at him for a long time.
Then she grabbed her coat.
“I need air,” she said. “If you follow me, we’re done.”
She left.
Grace didn’t go far.
She walked until her feet hurt, until the city blurred, until the anger drained and left something worse behind—fear.
What if I loved the lie?
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She almost ignored it.
Almost.
“Grace,” an elderly voice said. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Who is this?”
“My name is Margaret Shaw,” the woman said gently. “Ethan’s grandmother.”
Grace froze.
“I… I think we need to talk,” Margaret continued. “About a child.”
Grace’s blood went cold.
The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and quiet regret.
Margaret lay propped against pillows, frail but sharp-eyed.
“You saved my life once,” she said softly. “You didn’t know who I was. You didn’t ask for money.”
Grace swallowed. “Anyone would’ve helped.”
Margaret shook her head. “Not everyone does.”
She reached for Grace’s hand.
“You lost a child,” Margaret said.
Grace’s breath caught. “How do you—”
“Because,” Margaret continued, voice trembling, “you never lost him.”
Grace stood abruptly. “That’s not funny.”
“I would never joke about this.”
Tears streamed down Margaret’s face.
“Five years ago,” she said, “a baby was left at a private hospital. Drugged mother. No records. Just a jade pendant.”
Grace’s knees weakened.
Margaret pulled a chain from beneath her blanket.
The pendant glinted softly.
Grace recognized it instantly.
Her vision tunneled.
“No,” she whispered. “I was told—”
“You were lied to,” Margaret said. “The baby lived.”
Grace collapsed into the chair.
“And Ethan?” she croaked.
Margaret nodded. “He adopted the child before we knew the truth. When the DNA results came back… it was already too late.”
Grace’s chest shattered.
“He’s… alive?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s…” Her voice broke. “Mine?”
Margaret squeezed her hand.
“He’s waiting to meet his mother.”
Ethan found her sitting on the floor of the apartment hours later.
Eyes swollen. Face hollow.
He dropped to his knees in front of her instantly.
“She told you,” he said.
Grace nodded slowly.
“You knew?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “For months.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I was afraid,” he admitted. “Afraid you’d leave. Afraid you’d think I manipulated fate.”
She studied him.
“Did you?”
He shook his head violently. “No. I swear.”
Silence stretched.
Then Grace asked, barely breathing, “Where is he?”
Ethan’s eyes filled.
“Down the hall,” he said. “Asleep. He calls me Dad.”
Grace stood.
Every step felt unreal.
The bedroom door creaked open.
A small boy lay curled under the blankets, clutching a worn stuffed dinosaur.
Grace dropped to her knees again.
Her hand hovered above him—afraid to touch.
Ethan knelt beside her.
“He likes pancakes,” he whispered. “And hates socks.”
Grace laughed through sobs.
“He has my nose,” she said.
“And your stubbornness.”
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the boy’s hair.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry I took so long.”
The boy stirred.
“Mmm… Mommy?”
Grace froze.
“Yes,” she choked. “I’m Mommy.”
The fallout was ugly.
Families screamed. Lawyers threatened. Boards panicked.
Grace’s parents tried to reclaim her. Failed.
Ethan’s family tried to control the narrative. Failed.
Grace walked into Shaw Group headquarters one week later—not as a wife.
As herself.
“I won’t be hidden,” she told Ethan. “And I won’t be owned.”
He nodded. “Then stand with me.”
She did.
Together.
The press called it reckless.
The board called it risky.
Ethan called it freedom.
Grace didn’t care what they called it.
She watched her son run across the lawn, laughing, safe.
She watched Ethan—no lies left, no masks on—watching them both like his life depended on it.
“Do you regret it?” she asked him one night.
He shook his head. “Do you?”
She thought about it.
Then smiled.
“No,” she said. “But you don’t get to lie to me ever again.”
He kissed her forehead. “Deal.”
EPILOGUE
Some people fall in love with money.
Some fall in love with power.
Grace fell in love with a man who chose to be small in a world obsessed with being big.
And Ethan Shaw?
He learned that the bravest thing a powerful man can do—
Is tell the truth and accept the cost.
THE END
