“Please, Don’t Hit Me—I’m Already Hurt,” Begged the CEO. Then the Single Dad Revealed His True Identity!

The Choice to Stay

The slap echoed through the airport terminal like thunder, shattering the ordinary chaos of delayed flights and weary travelers. Natalie Cross, CEO of a billion-dollar pharmaceutical empire, crumpled to the marble floor, blood trickling from her split lip. Her designer suit was torn, her dignity shattered. “Please don’t hit me. I’m already hurt,” she whispered, voice barely audible above the gasps and camera phones raised around her.

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.

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Standing over her was Richard Blackwood, her supposed business partner, the man her late father had trusted to guide the company forward. Instead, Richard had become her tormentor, the architect of a scheme that would have sold her life along with her shares. “You signed the preliminary agreements, Natalie. You can’t back out now,” he snarled, his hand rising again.

Natalie flinched, arms raised to protect her face, the bruise on her cheek already purple from the confrontation in the parking garage an hour earlier. She’d tried to escape, to catch a flight anywhere, but Richard had followed, determined to force her compliance.

“Richard, people are watching,” she gasped, tasting copper in her mouth.

“Let them watch,” he spat, yanking her to her feet with such force she stumbled in her Louboutins. “Maybe public humiliation will teach you what happens when you cross me.”

Phones captured every second of her degradation. Not one person stepped forward. The crowd knew who she was—her face had been on Forbes, CNN, every business magazine cover. The ice queen of pharmaceuticals, they called her. The CEO who laid off thousands without a second thought. Maybe they thought she deserved this.

Richard’s grip tightened until she cried out. “You’re going to call your board right now,” he hissed. “You’re going to accept the marriage arrangement with the Sakamoto heir, sign over your controlling shares, and disappear.”

Natalie tried to protest, but his free hand struck her again, catching her ribs. She doubled over, gasping.

“Daddy, why is that man hurting that lady?” The small voice sliced through the noise like a blade.

A little girl, no more than six, stood ten feet away, her hand clasped in her father’s. She wore a pink unicorn backpack and light-up sneakers, her dark pigtails bouncing as she tried to pull her father forward.

“Lily, stay back,” the man said quietly, but his eyes never left Richard.

Mark Davis didn’t look like a hero. His carpenter’s hands were rough, his flannel shirt faded, his work boots scuffed from years of construction sites. He was returning from his mother’s funeral in Denver, exhausted and emotionally drained, with only his daughter and a duffel bag of memories. The last thing he needed was trouble.

But Lily’s question hung in the air, and Mark saw what the crowd refused to see—not a CEO, not a billionaire, but a woman in pain, afraid, alone.

“Sir,” Mark said, his voice carrying the quiet authority of someone who’d commanded troops in Afghanistan, though Richard couldn’t know that. “Let her go.”

Richard turned, still gripping Natalie’s wrist. “This is a private matter. Move along.”

“Doesn’t look private to me. Looks like assault.” Mark stepped forward, gently moving Lily behind him.

Richard’s face flushed red. “I could buy and sell you a thousand times over.”

Mark’s movements were calm, measured. “You’re going to let her go because it’s the right thing to do. And because your hand is shaking.”

Richard glanced down, startled to realize Mark was right.

“You’re scared,” Mark continued, almost gentle. “Maybe of losing control. Maybe of what happens if this deal falls through. But hurting her won’t fix it.”

“You don’t understand anything,” Richard snarled.

“I don’t need to understand,” Mark said, close enough now to reach them. “I just need you to let her go.”

The terminal seemed to hold its breath. Then Richard shoved Natalie forward. Mark caught her before she hit the ground, steadying her with surprising gentleness.

“This isn’t over, Natalie,” Richard spat. “The board meets tomorrow. If you’re not there, if you don’t agree to the terms, I’ll destroy everything your father built.”

He stormed off, leaving Natalie trembling in Mark’s arms. The crowd began to disperse, muttering about corporate drama and rich people problems.

“Ma’am?” Mark’s voice was soft. “Are you okay?”

Natalie tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only pain and exhaustion.

“Daddy, she’s hurt,” Lily said, peering around her father’s leg. “She needs a band-aid. I have unicorn ones in my backpack.”

Despite everything, Natalie almost smiled at the child’s earnest concern. When was the last time anyone had offered her something so simple, so kind, without wanting anything in return?

Mark guided her to a nearby bench. Lily dropped her backpack and began rummaging with the seriousness of a surgeon preparing for operation. “I also have juice boxes. Juice helps when you’re sad.”

Natalie managed a shaky laugh. “Your daddy sounds smart.”

“He is,” Lily said, producing a juice box and a handful of unicorn band-aids.

Up close, Natalie could see the fatigue in Mark’s eyes, the stubble on his jaw. “I’m Mark,” he said simply. “That’s Lily.”

“Natalie,” she replied, leaving off the Cross, the CEO, the titles. Right now, she was just Natalie, sitting on a bench with a stranger and his daughter, wondering how her life had come to this.

“That man,” Mark said carefully. “Is he going to come back?”

“Probably,” Natalie touched her ribs gingerly, wincing. “He needs me to—It’s complicated.”

“It always is,” Mark said. “But complicated doesn’t give him the right to hurt you.”

“You don’t understand. I’ve done things, made decisions—maybe I deserve—”

“No,” Mark said, firm and final. “Nobody deserves that. I don’t care what you’ve done.”

Lily approached with her supplies, her face scrunched in concentration. “Where does it hurt most?”

“Everywhere,” Natalie admitted, then caught herself.

“I know what everywhere hurts feels like,” Lily said solemnly. “When mommy went to heaven, everything hurt for a long time. But daddy said that’s okay because it means we loved really big.”