Saved By My Brothers ....
Zara grew up with nothing but resilience and ambition. Raised in an orphanage, she fought her way into the corporate world, believing education would be her salvation and love her reward. When she married Dante, a powerful CEO, she thought she had finally found both.
She was wrong.
Behind closed doors, Zara's marriage became a nightmare of cruelty, betrayal, and calculated malice. Stripped of her career, manipulated through her own child, and nearly killed by the very family she married into, Zara is forced to face a devastating truth: she was never meant to survive.
When she walks away from everything with no money, no protection, and only her dignity Zara makes one promise: she will return.
What she doesn't expect is to uncover a shocking secret about her past one that reveals she was stolen as a child, her life destroyed by a conspiracy rooted in greed and revenge. Reclaimed by her real family and armed with power she never knew was hers, Zara rises from the ashes stronger than ever.
This time, she isn't fighting for love.
She's fighting for justice.
And revenge will be delicious.
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Chapter 4
Before Henry could get any closer, Zara panicked. She slapped him hard and shouted, "Help!"
The noise was loud enough that Margret and Ann came running, only to freeze in shock at the scene in Zara's room. Henry stood there, looking startled, while Zara's nightdress added to the confusion.
"Henry, honey!" Ann cried, grabbing his hands. "This woman is evil! She tried to "
Zara froze, her mind racing. "That's not true! He"
But Henry quickly jumped in with a rehearsed story. "I only came to ask for some water," he said smoothly, "because you said she runs everything here. I didn't want to disturb you since you were sleeping. When I reached her, she grabbed me, and I had no choice but to defend myself. She tried to make it look like I was the aggressor."
Zara's heart pounded. Before she could respond, Ann slapped her across the face. "How dare you try this with my man!"
Just as Henry moved to retaliate again, a strong hand gripped his wrist. Everyone turned in shock.
Dante's eyes blazed. "That's enough," he growled, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Ann, my wife didn't do such a thing," Dante said firmly.
Everyone froze. Zara's heart skipped a beat. Was he really siding with her?
Dante turned to Henry, his eyes sharp and cold. "I know you're lying. But it's late, and I don't feel like being a bad man and throwing you out bleeding. It's better for you to leave my house right now."
Zara couldn't believe it. Her husband defending her?
Henry snapped angrily but had no choice. He stormed out, with Ann glaring at Zara before following him. Margret simply walked away, stunned and silent.
Zara stayed frozen, staring at Dante. Is this the same man who burned my documents and pushed me earlier? Why is he siding with me now?
"Zara... are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Dante asked gently.
"No," she whispered, still in shock, unsure what to make of his change in behavior. What is he planning?
Before he left, Dante added softly, "I'm sorry I pushed you. And about the documents... we can get new ones."
He walked away, leaving Zara standing there, stunned. She had never heard him speak to her like that gentle, concerned, almost... kind.
A strange mix of relief and fear settled over her. Is Dante finally coming around?
"Henry, stop!" Ann called, grabbing his arm. "Don't go, it's late."
"But your family thinks I'm a pervert," he protested.
"I don't think so," Ann said softly, her hand still on his arm. "I believe you. Please... don't go."
Henry hesitated for a moment, then shook his head and left. Ann's face darkened with anger. "You're going to pay for this, you woman," she muttered under her breath.
Meanwhile, Dante knocked lightly on his mother's room.
She clapped her hands like a proud general. "Genius, my son! Bravissimo! You made her think you care about her, so she'll fall right into our trap."
Dante smiled, his expression cold and calculating. "Yes, Mother. We need to get her out of our way. And about Ann's boyfriend I don't think she could be that shameless."
They both nodded, their hatred for Zara clear, though even they could admit it was obvious she hadn't done anything wrong.
Later, Zara fell asleep with a faint smile, feeling a rare sense of relief. If Dante was truly on her side now, she thought, maybe just maybe things could start to get better.
Early the next morning, Zara went to check on Lilly and was surprised to find Dante happily playing with her daughter.
Her stomach tightened. What is he planning? she wondered.
"Mommy, come here!" Lilly called out. "Daddy's been here since..."
Dante looked up and smiled. "Oh, good morning," he said warmly.
Zara replied cautiously, her voice slow.
"I might not be able to go with you to the park," Dante continued, "I've got work. But I've prepared a car for you to take her around and here are the tickets. Everything's already paid for ."
Zara's eyes widened. She hadn't sat in his cars for ages.
Lilly pouted. "I thought we'd go with you?"
"No, honey," Dante said smoothly, "I got busy. But you're going to have lots and lots of fun."
Zara couldn't help but smile faintly at his words.
He rose from the bed, glanced at Zara, and added, "Okay, safe trip," before turning to leave.
Zara crouched down and said gently, "Okay, little queen, let's get you ready." She helped Lilly dress, and soon they were done.
Happily, Zara led her daughter to the car, already fueled and ready. She helped Lilly into the front seat and fastened her seatbelt.
From the doorway, Dante watched them enter the car, a strange, unreadable smile on his face.
Dante turned to his mother, a satisfied glint in his eyes. "I think it's done now."
She raised her glass, and they toasted in quiet triumph.
A slow, wicked smile spread across her face. "Well done, my son," she said, her voice dripping with malice.
Dante mirrored her expression, the corners of his mouth curling into a subtle, cold smile. Inside, both were pleased with the trap they had set everything moving exactly as they had planned.
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7.6
On Christmas eve, I had prepared a surprise gift for my boyfriend of five years, but I was surprised instead... He had been seeing another woman. Worse still, I walked in on him, banging her.
Broken, I left in the middle of the night, but what I didn't know was that I would run into a scary creature that night that changed my life forever.
Alpha Kael... The man whom even his presence carries a strong intimidating aura, yet pulls me in. The man who makes me feel safe, yet torments me.
Watch him burn the world for me...
8.1
I spent forty hours hand-beading a gown for a woman who was currently sleeping with my husband. My fingers were raw, my vision blurred, and the needle had just driven deep into my index finger, leaving a drop of blood on the silk.
Braxton walked into our penthouse, rain dripping from his suit, and didn't even look at me. But the scent hit me instantly—Bulgarian rose and white musk. It was the custom perfume Griselda, my own sister, commissioned in Paris.
I had spent three years as a ghost in my own marriage, sewing costumes for the woman who had haunted my vows since day one. Braxton didn't bother to hide it anymore; there was a smudge of her coral lipstick on his collar. He didn't offer an explanation, only a command to finish the gown for the Met Gala so I wouldn't embarrass them.
My mother called moments later, her voice sharp with the usual dismissal. She didn't care that I was bleeding or that my husband was cheating with my sister. She only cared that I was "falling behind" on Griselda's gown.
I sat in the silence of that cold, marble cage, staring at the needle in my hand. For years, I had swallowed every insult and stitched every lie, believing I was the capable one who had to make them happy.
But as the clock ticked, a door inside me finally clicked shut. I wasn't just tired; I was finished. I set the needle down, picked up my phone, and dialed my sister’s number to tell her she’d have to find someone else to bleed for her.
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
7.6
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."
8.0
For five years, my husband kept me in a dog cage because he believed I murdered his fiancée, my stepsister Kinsley.
He stripped me of my dignity, my name, and my humanity, all to avenge a woman who wasn't even dead.
When Kinsley finally returned, alive and smiling, I thought my nightmare was over.
Instead, she framed me again.
Right in front of Courtland, she pushed my little brother down the stone steps of the estate.
I held my brother's broken body in the rain, screaming for help.
But Courtland just stood there, shielding Kinsley under his umbrella, looking at me with cold indifference.
He chose the monster over his wife.
That night, I realized love wasn't enough to save me.
So, I stood on the edge of the hospital roof and let gravity take me.
I wanted him to mourn. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to burn.
Three years later, at a gala in New York, the Ice King dropped his champagne glass.
He stared at me—the woman in the red dress, the fiancée of his rival.
I looked him dead in the eye and smiled like a stranger.
He cornered me later, his voice trembling with rage and obsession.
"Death is the only divorce in my world, Anastasia. And you are still very much alive."
7.6
A jagged spike of agony woke Kiana up in a filthy stone room.
She had transmigrated into the body of a notorious, exiled matriarch in a brutal wasteland.
Before she could even process her new reality, she saw a massive, bloodied man huddled in the corner, trembling in absolute terror.
Foreign memories detonated in her brain: the original Kiana swinging a spiked whip, laughing as she tore his flesh open.
He was her husband, and she was a monster who tortured her own consorts.
The situation was a complete death trap.
Another husband stormed in, throwing down a marriage contract and demanding to sever their ties, which would leave her to be eaten by mutated beasts.
Outside, her third husband lay dying from a toxic wound while the rest of the tribe mocked her, eagerly waiting for her downfall.
Scanning her own body, Kiana discovered her face was covered in ugly purple bruises.
The original host hadn't just been naturally insane; she had been secretly fed a chronic poison by political enemies, destroying her beauty and driving her mad until she was exiled.
As a survivor from a modern apocalypse, the sight of broken, enslaved men made her skin crawl.
She refused to die in this savage wasteland as a pawn in someone else's twisted game.
Kiana tossed the contract back to the furious man.
"Give me three months. I will save him, and I swear I won't touch you."
With her apocalyptic healing powers and a newly awakened Spatial System, she was going to rewrite the rules of this primitive world.