The CEO's Fake Wife

Suspicious and A beating.

“Listen to me this one time, Indigo. Please” Something about the way Cohen begged her paused her arguments midway and doused all the anger in her. She didn't understand while her father wasn't prepared to lean onto the most needed help they have got at the moment.

“But why, father?” She still felt uncertained and couldn't help but ask, hoping to get more insight into the reason why he was so adamant about the issue.

“There are a lot of things about rich people, the dark side to them and the last thing I want is for my precious girls to get too involved in them. It would be difficult to break loose in the long run.” Cohen ran a hand through his hair, carefully explaining while reserving a lot of information from her.

If only he knew that one of his precious girls was already in too deep and entangled with something much bigger than her, he wouldn't have waited until after the memorial to try to whisk her away.

“I know,” She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I would inform Rory, it's up to her to want to leave.”

“She is a good girl, she would understand that we only want what's best for us since it's just the three of us.”

As expected, as soon as he said that, Indigo had no other thoughts of refuting him. She smiled and nodded “You’re right,” She goot up from the chair, heading towards the bed in slow strides. “You are okay, right? You aren't in any trouble??”

For the first time since the call began, Cohen answered too quickly, glancing at the front door once again and placing his hand on his left leg which he was shaking subconsciously. “I’m fine,” A strange expression appeared on his face but since Indigo was focused on settling into the soft, warm bed, she completely missed it. “I am not in any trouble.”

Indigo narrowed her eyes at him and chuckled. “That should be my line after I punched someone's guts”

He also laughed, but it sounded a bit strained, like he was forcing it. “It's alright, you should try to get some sleep.”

She let out a yawn and nodded. “It is going to be a long day tomorrow, goodnight daddy.”

“Goodnight, my precious.” With that, the call between them ended. The room Indigo was in became quiet once again, she held her phone in her hand and stared at the

screen that had gone dark for a long time while a faint crease appeared on her brows.

Something about the way her father spoke to her tonight felt very off, he claimed that he wasn't in trouble but he was very insistent on them leaving immediately the memorial was done.

“Why? What is he hiding?” She whispered to the quiet room, expecting to respond before pushing the feeling aside and lowering herself to the bed.

On the other run down part of the city, her father, Cohen Braxton was still sitting on the edge of his bed, with his phone lowered on one hand while various conflicting expressions appeared on his face. There was tension and also something colder on his face. “It cannot happen again-” he mumbled to himself.

All of a sudden, there was a violent knock on the front door which snapped him out of his thoughts. His head turned toward the door and something like fear appeared on his face.

Another harsh knock followed and for a minute he didn’t move. The knocks continued until he stood up from the bed slowly. “Who is it?” he called but he was already suspicious of who it was.

No answer came from the front door, just another harsh, impatient pounding on the door. Cohen slowly made his way to the front door and the moment he opened the door, a hard hand slammed into his chest and pushed him backward.

Five men rushed inside and before Cohen could muster a word, a punch landed on him. It landed against his jaw so hard that his head snapped to the side. Cohen staggered, almost losing his footing before another blow drove into his ribs, the impact forced the air out of his lungs and pain exploded through his side.

“What—what are you guys doing?!” he gasped for breath, trying to take in the appearance of the masked men. Their faces were covered but their buff bodies, tattoos and heavy chains and rings gave him an idea of whom they were.

“How long will it take you to pay off your debts?” One of them roared close to his ear.

The almost fifty five years old man was stunned in place, as he struggled to give ab answer that would convince the debt collectors goons. “Just give me a few more day.”

Another fist crashed into his cheekbone and another landed directly on his stomach. Cohen doubled over with a painful cry, but they held him up, not letting him fall to the ground. Then one of them grabbed him by his shirt collar and raised him halfway upright just so another man could drive a knee into his midsection.

Cohen back slammed into the wall, the framed photo of himself and his daughters which was hanging there fell to the ground with a crash “Stop!” He cried out, inwardly glad that his daughters weren't home to witness this.

Another punch went to his eyes and the room spun. Cohen cried out, raised up an arm to shield his face, but there were too many of them. He barely had time to breathe before one of them yanked him up again by the front of his shirt. “Please—” he choked out with a broken broken. “Just give me a few more days.” He begged them, with blood seeping from the side of his mouth.

“You have forty eight hours and if you cannot pay up the hundred thousand dollars by then,” One of them pick up the broken frame, licking his lips lavisiously “We could go after your daughters and we would make sure to have fun with them.