Meet My Overprotective Brothers

Cora's heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst right out of her chest. She clutched the handlebars of her rusty delivery bike, her knuckles white, but her face-oh, her face was glowing with pure joy.

"He got it," she whispered, then louder, "He actually got it!"

A woman passing by gave her a strange look, but Cora did not care. Let them think she was crazy. Her husband was going to be a star! After all those failed auditions, all those nights he came home defeated, all those times his so-called friends laughed at his dreams-finally, finally, something good was happening.

"I sent Liam's resume to Director Morrison last week," she said to herself, pedaling through the crowded street with a grin that would not quit. "The casting director called me this morning. She said Liam was perfect for the lead role. Oh God, he is going to lose his mind when I tell him!"

She imagined the moment over and over. How his eyes would go wide with shock. How he would grab her and spin her around their tiny apartment. How he would kiss her and tell her she was his lucky charm, his angel, the only one who ever believed in him.

Cora's chest swelled with something warm and aching. Love. That was what this feeling was. Pure, honest, devoted love.

She looked down at the brown parcel balanced in her bike basket, then checked her watch. Her smile faltered just a little. "As soon as I deliver this parcel, I have to rush home. I need time to cook something special. Maybe that spicy noodle dish he loves? No, wait-pasta! The one with garlic and tomatoes. And I should pick up a cake. Just a small one. We cannot afford much, but it is our anniversary. Our third anniversary."

Three years of marriage. Three years of struggling together, laughing together, holding each other through the hard times. His family hated her-they made that clear at the wedding. They called her worthless, a nobody, an orphan with no future. But Liam defended her. He stood up to his mother, to his sister, to everyone. He chose her.

That had to mean something. That had to mean everything.

"I wonder if he has anything planned," Cora murmured, her voice soft and hopeful. "Maybe he remembered. Maybe he bought flowers, or booked that restaurant I mentioned last month. Or maybe-" She laughed at herself. "Maybe I am being silly. He has been so busy with auditions. But still... a girl can hope, right?"

She pedaled faster, her legs burning with effort. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. It was beautiful. Romantic evening. Everything felt like a sign that tonight would be perfect.

The apartment building loomed ahead-tall, modern, expensive. The kind of place Cora could only dream of living in. She parked her bike and grabbed the parcel, checking the address one more time. Apartment 1207. Twelfth floor.

Her phone buzzed. A text from her supervisor: "Last delivery of the day. Make it quick."

"I know, I know," Cora muttered, shoving her phone back into her pocket. "I am going as fast as I can."

The lobby was freezing with air conditioning, all marble floors and chandeliers. The security guard barely looked at her as she rushed to the elevator. People like her-delivery workers, cleaners, nobodies-were invisible in places like this.

The elevator ride felt like forever. Cora tapped her foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb. Seven. Eight. Nine. Her mind was already at home, already planning the evening. She would light the two candles they had left over from last year. She would put on that dress Liam liked, the blue one that was getting old but still fit her well. She would tell him about the role, and they would celebrate together.

Just the two of them. The way it had always been.

The elevator dinged. Twelfth floor.

Cora stepped out and walked down the quiet hallway, counting doors. 1205... 1206... 1207. She knocked firmly, putting on her best professional smile. "Delivery!"

No answer.

She knocked again, louder this time. "Hello? Your package is here!"

Still nothing.

Cora frowned. The door was slightly open, just a crack. Voices drifted from inside-low and muffled. She hesitated. This was not right. She should just leave the package and go. That was the rule. Drop it off, take a photo as proof, and leave.

But then she heard laughter. A woman's laughter, high and flirtatious.

"Ooh, baby!" the voice purred. "Our condoms are here! Perfect timing to celebrate your victory!"

Cora froze.

Her stomach dropped so fast she thought she might be sick right there in the hallway. She should not be hearing this. Customer privacy was everything in her job. You delivered the package. You did not ask questions. You did not listen. You definitely did not think about what was inside.

But that voice. Something about that voice made her skin crawl.

"Let's get into action, handsome," the woman continued, her tone dripping with seduction. "This role is going to make you a star. And I want to be the first to celebrate with you properly."

The words hit Cora like a punch to the gut.

Role. She said role.

"Hey, pay the delivery girl first," a man's voice called back, lazy and satisfied. "She is probably standing out there waiting."

The parcel slipped from Cora's hands.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

That voice. She knew that voice. She had heard it whisper "I love you" a thousand times. She had heard it laugh at her jokes, sing in the shower, promise her forever.

Her legs moved on their own, carrying her forward even though her brain screamed at her to run. To leave. To unsee whatever was about to happen.

But she could not stop. She pushed the door open wider and stepped inside.

The apartment was massive-floor-to-ceiling windows, leather furniture, modern art on the walls. And there, on the white couch in the center of the living room, were two people.

The woman was draped across the cushions wearing nothing but a thin red robe that barely covered her body. Her long black hair fell over her shoulders like silk. She was beautiful-the kind of beautiful that belonged on magazine covers. The kind of beautiful that made girls like Cora feel invisible.

And the man...

The man had his back to the door, shirtless, his shoulders broad and familiar. There was a small scar on his left shoulder blade, a jagged line from a fight he got into as a teenager. Cora had traced that scar with her fingers a hundred times.

Her vision blurred. Her chest tightened so hard she could not breathe.

The man turned around and time stopped, Everything stopped.

It was Liam.

Her Liam. Her husband. The man she had just been daydreaming about. The man whose career she had fought for, begged for, sacrificed for. The man she loved with every broken, battered piece of her heart.

And he was here. Half-naked. With another woman. On their anniversary.

The woman-Cora recognized her now, Vanessa Lux, the supermodel everyone was obsessed with-smiled slowly, like a cat who had just caught a mouse. She did not even bother to cover herself.

Liam's face went pale. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

Cora's voice ripped from her throat, raw and ragged and full of every ounce of pain her body could hold.

"LIAM!"

Her scream echoed through the apartment, through her chest, through the entire miserable universe.

"What are you doing here?!" Tears poured down her face, hot and unstoppable. Her whole body shook. "Are you... are you making out with another woman on our third wedding anniversary?!"

Liam stared at her, frozen. while Vanessa smirked.

"Thank you for your delivery."

The words sliced through the air, cold and mocking. Cora's entire body went numb. She stood there, frozen in the doorway, her mind refusing to accept what her eyes were seeing.

This was not real. This could not be real.

Liam-her Liam-stood there in another woman's apartment. Shirtless. Guilty. And he was not even trying to hide it.

"Cora..." His voice was flat. Empty. Like her name meant nothing in his mouth anymore.

"Liam." Her voice came out broken, barely a whisper. "What... what is this?"

He did not answer right away. Instead, he looked at Vanessa, then back at Cora. Something shifted in his expression. The guilt disappeared, replaced by something harder. Colder.

"I am with Vanessa now," he said simply. "There is no point pretending anymore."

The world tilted beneath Cora's feet. Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard she thought it might crack them open. "Pretending? What are you talking about? Liam, today is our anniversary! Our third anniversary!"

"I know what day it is." His jaw tightened. "That is why I was planning to end this tonight."

End this. End this. The words spun in her head like a nightmare she could not wake up from.

"You were planning-" Cora's breath hitched. Her hands started shaking. "You were planning to leave me? On our anniversary?"

"Better today than never, right?" Vanessa's voice cut in, sweet as honey and just as sticky. She was still sprawled on that couch, looking at Cora like she was something dirty that had been dragged in from the street.

Cora's vision blurred with tears, but she blinked them back. No. She would not cry. Not yet. Not in front of them.

"Liam, please." She took a step forward, her voice cracking. "Whatever this is, we can fix it. We can talk about it. Just... just come home with me. Please."

"Home?" Liam laughed. Actually laughed. "That cramped little apartment? That is not a home, Cora. That is a prison."

The words stabbed into her chest, each one twisting deeper.

"I worked three jobs for that apartment!" Her voice rose, raw and desperate. "I made sure we had food! I made sure the rent was paid! Everything I did was for you!"

"And I am supposed to be grateful?" Liam's eyes flashed with anger now. "You think working yourself to death makes you special? It just makes you pathetic."

Something inside Cora shattered.

Her hand moved before her brain could catch up.

SLAP!

The sound cracked through the apartment like a whip. Sharp. Violent. Real.

Liam's head snapped to the side. His cheek bloomed red. The shock on his face would have been satisfying if Cora's hand was not burning, if her heart was not breaking into a million pieces.

For three seconds, nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Then Liam's face twisted with rage.

His hand came up.

SLAP!

The slap sent Cora stumbling backward. Pain exploded across her face-hot, brutal, blinding. She tasted copper. Blood. Her ear rang like a bell that would not stop.

She pressed her hand to her cheek, gasping. Liam had never hit her before. Never. Not once in three years.

"Do not ever touch me again," Liam snarled. His eyes were empty now. Like she was nothing. Like she had never been anything. "Vanessa here is the reason I landed a lead role with Director Morrison in his new movie. I am about to become a star, Cora. A real star. And you?" He looked her up and down with pure disgust. "You are just a delivery girl. You are not good for me anymore."

Cora's legs felt like water. "What... what are you saying?"

Liam turned away from her and walked to a designer bag sitting on the side table. He pulled out a thick stack of papers-crisp, white, official-looking. Divorce papers.

He tossed them at her feet like trash.

"I was going to give these to you when I got home tonight," he said, his voice casual now. Bored, even. "But since you are already here, you might as well sign them now. I will throw in some money for your trouble. Consider it compensation for wasting three years of my life."

Cora stared at the papers scattered across the expensive floor. Her whole body trembled. This was not happening. This could not be happening.

"You... you had these ready?" Her voice was so small. "You were going to divorce me on our anniversary?"

"Why not? It is as good a day as any."

The cruelty in his voice broke something in her that could never be fixed.

"No." The word came out like a growl. "No!"

Cora lunged forward and grabbed Liam by his shirt, her fingers twisting into the fabric. She was shaking so hard her teeth chattered, but she did not let go.

"I worked three jobs to make sure we were living well!" she screamed in his face. "Three jobs, Liam! I barely slept! I performed badly in college because I was working myself to death, all because of you! I sent recommendation letters to every damn director in this city, including Morrison! I am the reason you got this job! ME! Not her!"

For just a moment, something flickered in Liam's eyes. Was it guilt? Shame? Regret?

But then Vanessa stood up.

She moved like a predator, slow and confident. Her robe slipped down one shoulder as she walked, revealing perfect skin and curves that belonged on billboards. She stopped next to Liam and traced one long finger down his bare chest.

She looked at Cora like she was an insect.

"Actually," Vanessa said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "it is because of me."

Cora's hands went slack. She let go of Liam's shirt.

Vanessa smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "Vanessa Sterling. Of the Sterling family. You know, the family that owns half this city? The family that built the Sterling Entertainment empire?"

No. No, no, no.

"Ethan Sterling, the brilliant lawyer who also happens to run Sterling Productions, is my adopted brother." Vanessa tilted her head, enjoying every second of this. "Director Morrison works under our production company. He gave Liam the role as a personal favor to me. Not because of some pathetic recommendation letter from a nobody delivery girl."

The air left Cora's lungs.

Sterling. That name was everywhere. On buildings. In newspapers. On charity foundations. They were one of the most powerful families in the country.

And Vanessa was one of them.

Liam pulled Vanessa close, wrapping his arm around her waist possessively. He looked down at Cora with pure contempt. "That is right, Cora. Vanessa is a Sterling. Morrison gave me the role because of her. Because of her family's influence. Your little letters meant nothing. You meant nothing."

Cora's mouth fell open. Her mind went blank. Empty. Like someone had reached inside her skull and scraped out everything that made her human.

Liam and Vanessa looked at each other. And then they started laughing.

It was the cruelest sound Cora had ever heard.

Vanessa threw her head back, her laughter light and musical. "Oh, this is too good. Look at her face, Liam. She actually believed she mattered!"

"Tomorrow, the Sterlings are hosting a gala night."

Vanessa's voice cut through the silence like a knife. She was still wrapped in Liam's arms, looking at Cora like she was something disgusting stuck to the bottom of her designer shoe.

Cora could not move nor breathe. Her cheek still throbbed from where Liam had hit her. Her heart felt like it had been ripped out and stomped on. But she forced herself to stand straight. To not collapse. Not yet.

"It is going to be the event of the year," Vanessa continued, running her fingers through Liam's hair like she owned him. "All the biggest names in entertainment will be there. Directors, producers, actors." She paused, her smile widening. "And I am going to ask my brothers to make Liam the face of our luxury jewelry brand, Lumière."

Lumière. Even Cora, in her broken state, recognized that name. Lumière was not just any jewelry brand-it was the jewelry brand. Celebrities fought to wear their pieces on red carpets. One campaign with them could launch a career into the stratosphere. A single advertisement could make someone a household name overnight.

Cora's stomach twisted. So that was it. That was why Liam had chosen Vanessa. Not just for her beauty or her connections. For everything she could give him that Cora never could. Money. Fame. Power. A future that glittered like the diamonds Lumière was famous for.

Vanessa stepped forward, her bare feet silent on the marble floor. She moved closer and closer until she was right in Cora's face. So close that Cora could smell her expensive perfume-something floral and sickly sweet that made her want to gag.

"Tell me, Cora," Vanessa whispered, her breath hot against Cora's skin. "What can you offer him?"

Cora's jaw clenched. Her fists balled at her sides so tight her nails dug into her palms.

"What connections do you have?" Vanessa tilted her head, mock concern dripping from her voice like poison. "What doors can you open? What world can you give him?"

The questions hung there, suffocating. Because they both knew the answer.

"Nothing." Vanessa's smile turned vicious. Sharp. "You have nothing. Because you are a nobody. An orphan. Your own family rejected you. They did not even want you. They threw you away like garbage."

The words hit harder than any slap ever could. They reached deep inside Cora and squeezed everything that was already broken, crushing it into dust.

Cora's vision turned red. Her whole body started shaking, but not from fear anymore. Not from sadness. From rage. From something dark and furious that had been building inside her since the moment she walked through that door and saw her husband with another woman.

"My family did not abandon me!"

The scream tore from her throat like an animal's roar. Raw and desperate and full of every ounce of pain she had been carrying for twenty-five years. Before she knew what she was doing, before her brain could catch up with her body, Cora's hands shot out and she shoved them both with every ounce of strength she had left.

THUD!

Liam and Vanessa crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs and shock. Vanessa's silk robe flew open, exposing more skin than Cora wanted to see. Liam's shoulder slammed into the edge of the coffee table, and his head followed with a sickening crack that echoed through the apartment.

"I was not abandoned!" Cora screamed again, her voice breaking into pieces. Tears streamed down her face, hot and unstoppable, but she did not care anymore. She was past caring. "I was kidnapped! Stolen by very bad people when I was four years old! I remember my family-they were powerful! They had money and people who worked for them and big cars! They loved me! They wanted me!"

Liam groaned and pushed himself up, rubbing the back of his head. When he pulled his hand away, there was a small smear of blood on his fingers. His face twisted with anger and something else. Disbelief. Mockery.

"Kidnapped?" He started laughing. It was ugly laughter, mean and sharp, the kind that cut. "Oh, that is rich. That is really rich, Cora."

Vanessa scrambled to her feet, her perfect hair messy now, sticking up in places. Her robe hung half off one shoulder. Her face was flushed-part embarrassment, part fury. She looked less like a supermodel now and more like a wild animal ready to attack.

"If your family was so powerful," Liam said, standing up slowly and steadying himself against the couch, "then why did they not find you? Huh?" He took a step toward her. "It has been what, twenty-five years? Twenty-five years, Cora. Where are they? Where is this magical powerful family that supposedly loved you so much?"

The question hit her like a fist to the stomach. Because she did not have an answer. She had asked herself that same question a thousand times growing up in that horrible orphanage. A million times when she lay awake at night on that thin mattress, listening to the other kids cry. Why did they not come? Why did they not find her? Had they even looked?

"Maybe they did not want to find you," Liam continued, his voice dripping with cruelty. Each word was a nail hammering into her heart. "Maybe they were glad you were gone. One less mouth to feed. One less problem to deal with."

"Shut up!" Cora's voice cracked.

"Or maybe-" Liam's smile was pure evil now, "-maybe you were never kidnapped at all. Maybe your parents just left you on the street because they could not stand you. Maybe you made up this whole fantasy to make yourself feel better about being worthless."

"I said shut up!"

Vanessa stepped forward, fixing her robe with shaking hands. She was trying to look composed, but Cora could see the rage burning in her eyes. "You just assaulted us. You pushed me to the ground. You hurt Liam. Do you have any idea what I could do to you for that?"

"I do not care," Cora spat back, and she meant it. What more could they take from her? They had already taken everything.

"You should." Vanessa's smile returned, but it was different now. Darker. More dangerous. "Because you are not leaving this apartment until you sign those papers. You understand me? You are not going anywhere."

Cora's blood ran cold. Her eyes darted to the door. It looked so far away now. Miles away.

"That is right." Liam moved to stand beside Vanessa, blocking the path completely. His body was a wall between Cora and freedom. "Sign the divorce papers, Cora. Sign them right now, or things are going to get very bad for you."

"And if I do not?"

Vanessa laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just threat. Just promise. "Then maybe you have a death wish."

The words hung in the air, heavy and real. Cora looked at the door again. Then at Liam. Then at Vanessa. They were both bigger than her. Stronger. And Vanessa-Vanessa was a Sterling. She had power Cora could not even imagine. She could make phone calls and erase people. Make them disappear. Make problems go away.

But something in Cora refused to be afraid anymore. She had lost everything already. Her husband. Her dignity. Her heart. What else did she have to lose? Her life? Maybe that would be easier than living with this pain.

"You know what?" Cora's voice came out steady now. Strong. Like something inside her had finally clicked into place. "I do not want this anymore. I do not want him." She pointed at Liam with pure disgust. "You can have him. You can have this cheating, lying, worthless excuse for a man. He is all yours. Congratulations on your prize."

Liam's face went red. His jaw clenched. "What did you just-"

"And let me tell you one more thing." Cora turned to face Vanessa directly, her eyes blazing with everything she had left. "You look like a prostitute. A cheap prostitute in that trashy robe. So you two are absolutely perfect for each other. A cheater and a whore. What a beautiful couple."

For a second, everything stopped.

The air went still. Time seemed to freeze.

Vanessa's mouth fell open. Her eyes went wide. Her face went white, then red, then purple with pure rage.

"What the hell did you just say to me?"

And then Vanessa charged forward like a bull, her manicured nails stretched out like claws, murder written across her beautiful face.