The Blind CEO

“Jade, come back now. It’s getting dark.”

 “Alright, alright. Give me a moment.”

Jade ended the call—the signal was weak anyway, and she could barely make out what her friend was saying. She slipped her phone into her backpack and started making her way down the same trail she had used to climb up. She had come to gather herbs that only grew in that part of the mountain.

She hadn’t realized how far she’d wandered. Now, the darkness was creeping in quickly—hence the call. Still, she wasn’t worried; she knew the trail like the back of her hand.

She was already near her bicycle when she suddenly heard the screech of tires, followed by a loud crash. The dark surroundings briefly lit up from the impact.

Jade froze. Then, snapping out of her shock, she sprinted toward the source of the sound.

What she found was a sports car engulfed in flames. The air stank of burning rubber and metal.

Jade's stomach turned. No one could survive that.

 Jade was about to turn around and call for help when she felt a hand clutch her leg.

A scream lodged in her throat.

“Help me,” the man rasped, his voice dry and broken. “And if I survive… don’t tell anyone I’m alive.”

She didn’t understand—but she nodded anyway.

—

“Do you remember who you are?” she asked softly, her voice almost a whisper in the dim light.

“I do,” he replied after a pause.

“Cool. But don’t tell me your name. As for me, call me Jay.”

He frowned, confused, but said nothing.

“It’s better if we don’t know each other’s real names,” she continued, reading his silence. “Like you said, your life might be in danger. And I don’t want to look you up online and change my mind about helping you. Same goes for me—”

“Why?” he asked.

“It’s just a kind of protection. For both of us.” She smiled, even though he couldn’t see it.

His voice dropped, uncertain. “Why did you save me?”

“I just can’t ignore someone who needs help,” she said simply. “But this much I can promise—you can trust me.”

“Then call me Z.”

“Z?” she repeated with a soft chuckle. “Alright. From now until you recover, you’ll stay here. At my place.”

“Thank you,” he said, the sincerity in his voice striking her unexpectedly.

Jade studied Z’s face in the firelight. Despite the bandages over his eyes, he was breathtakingly handsome. 

She could easily tell he must be incredibly rich too—the sports car that fell off and burnt in the mountain was no ordinary car. And he wore a limited-edition watch, though sadly it had been damaged, probably when it hit a rock as he jumped from his car and rolled off the cliff.

She still couldn’t believe she’d found him. That she'd gotten there in time.

But he hadn’t wanted a hospital. “No names,” he’d said. “No authorities.” The urgency in his voice had chilled her more than the cold night.

Thankfully, one of her friends—an off-the-grid doctor—owed her a favor.

Z had survived the crash. But not without consequence.

He had lost his sight.

The first few weeks were hard. He fought it, angry and broken. It took Jade time, patience, and a stubborn kind of kindness to win his trust.

“I promise you, we will find a way to bring your vision back,” she told him one night, her voice steady with quiet conviction.

Jade wasn’t rich. She was juggling jobs to put herself through school. But a human life was more important than anything else. Without hesitation, she decided to put her education on hold and save money for Z’s surgery.

“I’m listing everything,” she would often joke lightly at him. “Pay me back when you regain your eyesight.”

But she never told him what she truly had to sacrifice to make that possible. It hadn’t been easy. But she would be able to raise the money with a little more perseverance.

“I’ll pay you double,” he said seriously.

“That’s great. I’ll work hard then,” she replied, hiding the weight of reality behind a jolly voice.

But even though she worked hard, raising that kind of money was nearly impossible for someone like Jade—alone in the world, a girl who had grown up in an orphanage, with no family to depend on.

Even then, she couldn’t bring herself to abandon him.

Z’s stay stretched to a year. But Jade never once complained.

“Remember to pay me, okay?” she would always remind him.

She only said that so he wouldn’t feel like a burden. The truth was, she helped him purely out of the kindness of her heart.

“Make sure to tell me your name when I regain my eyesight,” he said one night.

“Of course,” she promised brightly.

“And Jay…” Z suddenly reached out and held her hands. Over the course of a year, they had become close—closer than she realized until that moment. “Promise me you’ll be the first person I’ll see when I open my eyes.”

“Pinky promise,” she said, entwining their pinky fingers together.

Jade was caught off guard when Z suddenly pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank you for everything,” he whispered.

She stiffened at first, unfamiliar with such warmth. She had never been hugged like that before—certainly not by a man.

She gently pushed him away, masking her nerves with a chuckle. “Don’t get all dramatic with me, Z.”

“What do you look like?” he asked, letting her go but then tracing his fingers across her face—her brows, her eyes, her nose—as if trying to memorize her.

“I think you’re very beautiful,” he said quietly.

Jade laughed, a bit awkwardly.

“I wish I were. Hey, Z, when you see me, you might run away screaming,” she teased.

She looked at his face—so heartbreakingly handsome even in blindness, so gentle and kind—and her heart ached.

In fact, as the day of his surgery drew nearer, Jade realized she wasn’t ready to let him go. She had developed a soft spot for him, had gotten so used to his presence—even if she had to do almost everything for him.

“Impossible. That would be very ungrateful of me,” he said, his voice full of conviction.

“You better not,” she whispered, half-joking, half-pleading.

“Jay, how old are you?” he asked out of the blue.

“How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know. You sound like you’re young.”

“How about you? I think you’re in your late twenties,” she guessed.

“Don’t you really want to know who I am?” Z asked suddenly, a soft intensity behind his words.

“When you can see again, let’s reintroduce ourselves properly,” she said, reassuring.

He smiled warmly, his fingers still gently tracing her face. “Sounds like a plan.”

Jade smiled back, even though he couldn’t see her smile.

She had her reasons for not wanting to know his name.

Because she planned to disappear from his life once his operation was successful.

And that’s exactly what she did.

She wasn’t there when Z opened his eyes again.