The Cohen Group’s Son-in-Law

On my twenty-fifth birthday, my father delivered his ultimatum: Come back and get married, or I'm freezing all your accounts.
And so, I was forced to return home to fulfill an arranged marriage to a woman I'd never met.
The day my plane landed, I swung by the Porsche dealership to pick up my fathers welcome-home gifta silver 911.
Just as I was about to sign the papers, a man in a bespoke suit shoved me aside and slapped a black card on the sales manager's desk.
"I'm taking this car."
I tried to explain politely. "Excuse me, sir, but this car is already reserved for me."
He just arched an eyebrow and shot me a dismissive glance. "Amazing what some people will do for a little attention. You really think a knockoff designer jacket gives you the right to spout this kind of nonsense?" He puffed out his chest. "Do you have any idea who I am? I'm the future son-in-law of the Cohen Corporation!"
Just then, the sales managers phone rang. After a brief, hushed conversation, he immediately plucked the keys from my hand and presented them to the other man with a bow.
"Mr. Julius," the manager stammered, "Miss Ford was very clear. No one else is to take this car today."
I froze.
The son-in-law of the Ford-Cohen merger?
Wasn't that supposed to be me?

1
The sales manager, Mr. Wallace, looked back and forth between us, his eyes finally settling on me.
"Sir," he said nervously, "until your identity is confirmed, I can't let you sign anything." He snatched the contract back, clutching it protectively to his chest.
The man in the suit let out a sneering laugh and tugged on the sleeve of my faux-leather jacket. "You show up in a cheap knockoff and expect us to believe you're some kind of heir? Have you ever even felt real leather?"
I frowned and took a step back. "I'm a member of an environmental conservation group. I don't use animal products."
"Ha!" He laughed, loud and obnoxious. "Just say you're broke. No need to put on airs." He turned to the manager. "Wallace, you have to be careful these days. Scammers are getting bold, targeting high-end places like this."
I took a deep breath. "This is vegan leather. It's a new sustainable material developed in Italy. It looks like leather, but it's made from plant fibers."
He clicked his tongue dramatically. "Wow, the stories you phonies come up with get more detailed every day. Wallace, you should probably look up this 'plant fiber' nonsense and see if it even exists."
I could feel a hot knot of anger tightening in my chest. This guy was unbelievable.
"For the past three years, I've been running conservation projects abroad," I said, my voice tight. "This car was a gift from my father to welcome me home." My hand was trembling slightly as I opened my phone's photo gallery and swiped to a picture of me in a rainforest. In the photo, I was sorting recycled plastic bottles with local children, a vast mangrove forest in the background.
He just rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. The sob stories just keep getting better. It's a nice touch, pretending to be some kind of saint." He scoffed. "Anyone can find a picture of themselves volunteering. I've got a selfie with a refugee in my phone. Does that make me a UN ambassador?"
My fingers tightened around my phone. I was losing my patience. I opened my chat history and played a voice message.
My father's warm, doting voice filled the showroom. "Son, I've ordered a silver Porsche for you. A celebration for your return..."
I looked at Mr. Wallace. "Is that enough proof for you?"
He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "That... that is indeed Mr. Cohen's voice."
"Hah!" The other man sneered, slamming his hand down on the contract before Wallace could grab it. "Anyone can edit an audio clip. You call that evidence? With AI voice-cloning technology, you can fake anyone's voice perfectly. It proves nothing!"
Wallace hesitated again, his hand frozen in mid-air.
The man, who I now knew as Julius, wagged a finger in my face. "You want proof? I'll give you proof." He pulled a photograph from his wallet and slapped it down on the hood of the Porsche. "Take a look at this. Last week's charity gala. I was standing right next to Chairman Cohen."
In the photo, he was standing cozily next to my father, who was actually smiling. My heart sank. The sight of that smile stung. Id been away for five years, dedicating my life to my work. I didn't have any recent photos with my dad.
But why did he?
Could it be? Was he my father's illegitimate son?

2
"Impossible..." I muttered.
"What's impossible?" he shot back, his chin held high in triumph. "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Julius Cohen. The one and only heir to the Cohen Corporation."
My blood ran cold. Julius Cohen? My name is Julian Cohen.
My head snapped up. "You're lying! I'm the heir to the Cohen Corporation!"
"Are you? Then prove it," he challenged with a smirk.
I was stumped. In that moment, I honestly didn't know how I could prove who I was. Mr. Wallace was clearly swayed. He turned to Julius with an apologetic smile. "Mr. Cohen, my apologies for this misunderstanding. Let me get the paperwork started for you..."
"Wait!" I scrambled, pulling my passport from my bag. "This is my passport! It has all my information!"
Julius snatched it from me, gave it a contemptuous glance, and threw it on the floor. "Nicely forged. Looks almost real." He ground the cover under his heel. "Wallace, when did your dealership's standards get so low? Are you letting any stray dog wander in off the street now?"
Wallaces face paled. He immediately spoke into his walkie-talkie. "Security! Security to the main showroom!"
Two large men in security uniforms rushed in and grabbed my arms.
"Let me go!" I struggled. "Do you know who I am?"
"Just a con artist," Julius sneered.
A guard shoved me hard. I stumbled, and my knee slammed into the hard marble floor. A blinding flash of pain shot through me. Before I could recover, Julius stuck his foot out and tripped me. I pitched forward, my palms scraping against the ground, leaving bloody streaks on the polished surface.
"You can't do this to me!" I hissed through the pain, my hands shaking as I fumbled to pull a chain from around my neck. "This was a gift from my father for my eighteenth birthday! It has my name and birthdate engraved on it..."
Julius ripped the necklace from my hand, glanced at it, and burst out laughing. "You really think this twenty-dollar piece of junk from a street vendor is going to prove anything?" He tossed it across the room. "Security, get this lunatic out of here!"
They started dragging me out like a sack of potatoes. My shin crashed hard against the doorframe. As a fresh wave of pain shot up my leg, a thought struck me. "Wait!" I yelled, craning my neck. "I can prove it! I'll call my dad!"
Fighting against their grip, I managed to get my phone out and shakily dialed my father's private number. The long, drawn-out ringing echoed in the silent showroom before finally switching to a cold, impersonal voicemail.
"Nice performance," Julius said, flicking a silver lighter open and shut, a mocking smile on his face. "Want to try calling the Secretary-General of the United Nations next?"
My knuckles were white as I gripped my phone. "There's one more person who can prove who I am! I'm calling my fiance!"
Julius's expression froze. "Fiance?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing.
"That's right! Vivian Ford!"
I quickly found the contact I had added just yesterday, my thumb hovering over the call button.
Suddenly, Julius's face twisted into a mask of rage. He lunged at me, shoving me violently. The phone flew from my grasp as he slapped it out of my hand. It hit the marble floor with a sickening crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of glass.
"You shameless piece of trash!" He backhanded me across the face. The signet ring on his finger sliced open my cheek. My ears rang, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing my head up. "Open your pathetic eyes and look closely!"
"I am Vivian Ford's fianc!"
3
He pulled a necklace from under his collar. The locket opened to reveal a photo of him and Vivian. In the picture, she was leaning against him tenderly, both of them smiling at each other.
"No..." I shook my head in disbelief.
Julius's lips curled into a smirk. He dialed a number, putting it on speaker for everyone to hear. A soft, feminine voice answered. "Hello...? Julius, what's wrong?"
His tone immediately shifted, becoming warm and gentle. "Nothing, darling. I just miss you."
"Did you get the car?" she asked, a smile in her voice. "I've booked a table to celebrate. I'll come pick you up after work."
Murmurs of envy rippled through the staff.
"Mr. Cohen is so lucky..."
"I've never heard Miss Ford sound so gentle. She's known as the Ice Queen of the business world..."
Julius's smile widened. "Sounds wonderful, my love. I'll be waiting"
The moment he hung up, he shot me a triumphant look. "You all heard that? I'm Vivian Ford's rightful fianc! And this imposter," he gestured at me, "doesn't even have her private number, yet he dares to impersonate the Cohen family heir!"
Mr. Wallace's face went white. "Security! Get this fraud out of here now!"
The guards closed in again.
"Listen up, everyone!" Julius shouted. "Today, I'm going to teach this shameless degenerate a lesson he'll never forget! The first person who helps me strip the clothes off him gets this three-hundred-thousand-dollar Cartier ring!"
The showroom erupted. It wasn't just the guards whose eyes lit up with greed; even a few of the male sales associates started rolling up their sleeves.
One of the guards, a man with a brutish face, licked his lips and cracked his knuckles. "Don't you worry, Mr. Cohen. We'll make him pay for upsetting you."
"You messed with the wrong guy," another snarled.
I backed away instinctively until my back was pressed against a cold glass display case. The circle of men tightened around me, and my heart hammered against my ribs. Julius stood behind them, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he casually tossed the glittering ring in the air.
My only hope was to get home. The staff, the butleranyone there could identify me. I glanced towards the emergency exit.
Just as I was about to make a break for it, Julius barked, "He's trying to run! Get him!"
A guard lunged, grabbing my wrist. I twisted away, and my watch was ripped from my arm, clattering to the floor. As I stumbled, Julius tripped me again. My already injured knee slammed into the marble, and my vision went black for a second from the sheer agony.
"Let go of me!" I thrashed wildly, but two guards pinned my arms behind my back. My fingernails bent and broke, blood welling at the tips. Someone grabbed my jacket and tore it open, the sound of popping buttons exploding in my ears.
"Keep going! Strip him down!" Julius's excited voice echoed from across the room.
Dozens of rough hands clawed at my shirt, the sound of ripping fabric sending a tremor of pure terror through me.
Suddenly, a figure loomed over me. Julius crouched down, his fingers digging into my chin, forcing me to look at him.
He leaned in close, his voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. "I know you're the real Julian. But once you're dead, I can be the real me."
Horror shot through me. Before I could process his words, his hand moved. A flash of cold steela sharp folding knife was heading straight for my throat.
"Stop!"

4
A cold, authoritative female voice cut through the chaos.
I looked up and saw Vivian Ford's silhouette standing against the light of the entrance. A surge of hope coursed through me.
"Vivian! Sav"
My cry was cut short.
With lightning speed, Julius slipped the knife into my pocket. In the next instant, he stumbled backward, crashing into Vivian's arms with a look of pure terror.
"Vivian! You're finally here! This lunatic... he tried to kill me! He has a knife in his pocket!"
Vivian's gaze fell on my bruised and battered body. Her red lips parted, and she uttered a single word that sent me plunging into an icy abyss.
"Police."
"Vivian, are you insane?" I screamed, struggling against my captors. "I'm your fianc, Julian Cohen! That five-billion-dollar real estate project on the west sideyou were just talking to my father about the partnership last week!" My voice was raw. "You're going to throw all that away for this imposter?"
Vivian let out a cold laugh. "You're my fianc? You can't even come up with a believable lie." She gave me a look of utter contempt and then, in front of everyone, leaned in and kissed Julius on the lips.
"Look closely," she announced. "This is my fianc, Julius Cohen."
My blood turned to ice. How could she not recognize me? We were about to be married.
Julius smirked, his fingers caressing her waist. "Vivian..."
Her cool expression softened instantly. "Are you scared?"
I was still on my knees, the blood from my leg staining the marble a dark crimson. As Vivian's gaze swept over me, a flicker of disgust crossed her face.
"Vivian..." I whispered, my voice trembling.
She didn't even grant me a glance, instead gently tilting Julius's chin up. "Are you hurt?"
Julius seized the opportunity, burying his face in her shoulder and shooting me a victorious look. "My hand hurts... he scratched me when he was fighting back..."
Vivian immediately took his hand, carefully blowing on a scratch that wasn't even there.
"Oh, by the way, Julius," she said, as if just remembering. "Someone else pretending to be you added me on social media yesterday." She shook her head with a sigh. "I accidentally accepted, but I deleted him right away. You're not jealous, are you?"
My eyes widened in shock. She really thought I was the fake.
Julius's expression faltered for a second before he broke into a smile and pecked her on the cheek. "Vivian, of course I trust you." He shot a pointed look in my direction. "It's just a shame what some pretty boys will do to climb the social ladder."
"Vivian..." he whined, tugging on her sleeve. "You have to stand up for me this time!"
Her eyes hardened. "Don't worry. I won't let anyone who bullies you get away with it."
A vicious smile spread across Julius's face. "I have an idea! Since he's so desperate for a sponsor, why don't we..." He whispered something in her ear.
Vivian actually laughed. "Whatever you want, Julius."
With a casual wave of her hand, four men in black suits stepped forward. They were professionals. Before I could react, they had me lifted off the ground.
Vivian adjusted her cuffs, her voice bored. "Strip him and dump him in the red-light district."
All the color drained from my face. That was the most dangerous part of the city, filled with addicts and vagrants. No one in their right mind ever went there. It was a death sentence.
"No! You can't do this!" I thrashed wildly. "I really am the heir! When my father finds out, he'll make you wish you were never born!"
Vivian and Julius just looked at each other and laughed.
The bodyguards began tearing at what little was left of my clothes. I closed my eyes in despair
And then, a powerful, furious voice boomed from the entrance.
"Stop this at once!"
Everyone froze. A figure leaning on an ebony cane strode through the door.
"Let him go!"

5
Through the tangled mess of my hair, I recognized his face. It was Arthur, the Cohen family's longtime butler. But with my face obscured, he didn't recognize me at first.
"What is the meaning of this?" Arthur demanded, his brow furrowed in displeasure.
I tried to call out to him, but a guard clamped a hand over my mouth. Julius quickly moved to block me from view, his face plastered with a sycophantic smile. "Arthur! What a surprise to see you here."
A jolt went through me. How did he know Arthur? Who was this guy?
Arthur seemed surprised, too. "What are you doing here?"
"Dad sent me to pick up the car," Julius said without batting an eye.
Arthur nodded. My heart sank. Dad? Since when did my father have another son? I struggled, trying to get Arthur's attention, but Julius subtly shifted, completely hiding me from his view.
"Don't worry about him, Arthur," Julius said smoothly. "Just some con artist trying to impersonate me to get the car. Luckily, Miss Ford was here to vouch for me and teach him a lesson."
Arthur nodded and gave a slight bow to Vivian, who returned the gesture politely. But his eyes were scanning the room, clearly looking for someone. He wasn't paying much attention to them.
"By the way," Arthur said, turning back to Julius. "Have you seen a young man about your age? He was supposed to be here to pick up a silver Porsche."
The showroom fell silent. Everyone's expression changed, except for Julius.
"No, I haven't," he said, blinking innocently. "Why, Arthur?"
Arthur sighed. "No matter. He's probably just delayed. I'll go check the airport."
He started to turn away. Panic seized me. If Arthur left, I was done for. I threw my head back, slamming it into the nose of the guard behind me. He cried out in pain, and the sound made Arthur stop.
"What was that?" he asked.
Julius instantly stepped in front of him, a sweet smile on his face. "It's nothing, Arthur, really. The fraud is just getting restless, trying to escape."
Arthur looked in my direction, his eyes filled with suspicion. I shook my head desperately, but the guards held me fast. After a moment, he leaned in and spoke to Julius in a low voice. "If he's an imposter, deal with him cleanly. We don't want any gossip attached to the Cohen family name."
"You can count on me," Julius chirped, but behind his back, he made a sharp gesture to the guards. "I'll make sure he never dares to impersonate a Cohen again."
As Arthur turned to leave, my vision blurred with desperate tears. In a final, desperate move, I threw all my weight backward again, smashing my head into the guard's face. As his grip loosened, I lunged toward a nearby display case.
There was a deafening crash. The entire glass cabinet toppled over, showering the floor in a cascade of glittering shards. The noise made Arthur whip around. I finally had my chance.
"Arthur! It's me!" I screamed.
The hair fell away from my face, revealing my blood-streaked features. Arthur's weary eyes went wide. His cane clattered to the floor.
He pointed a trembling finger at me. "Young... Young Master?"
He stumbled towards me, but Julius blocked his path. I saw Julius make a quick, brutal throat-slitting motion to the guards behind his back. A chill of pure terror shot down my spine.
"Arthur, you're mistaken," Julius said, his voice tight. "This is just a..."

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