My Sissy Brother Brought His Boyfriend to Save Me

My younger brother, Leo, has loved makeup and crying since he was a kid. He was more sensitive and delicate than me.

Because of him, I always promised myself that I would marry a real, manly man. I didn't want anyone like my brother. Later, I got exactly what I wanted.

I married Dylan, a man with a thick beard, an eightpack, and a booming voice.

On our wedding day, Leo cried so hard his mascara ran all over his face. "Chloe," he sobbed, hugging me. "If Dylan ever treats you badly, you call me immediately." Dylan watched him with sneering contempt. "Your brother is such a pussy." But after the wedding, the loving, protective Dylan disappeared.

He showed his true colors and started abusing me. Every time he finished beating me, he would mock me. "So what if I hit you, Chloe? Who are you going to call? Your sissy brother?

You think he's going to save you?" One night, after another brutal beating, I crawled into the corner and secretly called Leo. "Leo...

I miss you." That very night, Leo rushed to my house. Seeing the purple bruises covering my body, he burst into tears and wrapped his arms around me. "Chloe, did he do this to you?

Oh my God... I'm taking you home right now!" Dylan immediately blocked the door, towering over us. "You? Taking her?

Get out of my face, you little sissy." Just then, the front door was kicked open. A massive, towering man charged into the living room.

He grabbed Dylan by the throat and slammed him against the wall. "Touch him again. I dare you." My brother, Leo, had been different from other boys since the day he was born.

He hated trucks and action figures. Instead, he loved stealing my hair clips and playing with my Barbie dolls. He was also terrified of everything.

A single cockroach or a tiny mouse would send him screaming and crying into my arms.

Our mother used to yell at him, frustrated by his lack of "manliness." But Leo would just sniffle, his eyes red. "But those bugs are so ugly and scary!" He didn't change much when he grew up.

After graduating from college, he ignored everyone's advice and went to beauty school. Now, he owned a small lash and nail salon.

Our conservative relatives gossiped about him behind his back. "A grown man doing nails and lashes? How embarrassing. It's not a real job." Leo overheard them once.

He locked himself in the bathroom and cried for fifteen minutes. When he came out, the corners of his eyes were still red, but he whispered, "I earn my living with my own hands.

I'm not hurting anyone." I had always protected him. But even I had to admit, Leo was not the kind of brother who could fight for me. Especially after I married Dylan.

Dylan ran a successful construction contracting company. He was thirtytwo, handsome, and incredibly charming when he wanted to be.

When he was chasing me, he was the gentlest man on earth. My mother told me, "He's stable, he has a good career, and he adores you. He's a keeper." I believed her.

But during our first month of marriage, Dylan told me he didn't like me wearing crop tops or lowcut dresses. "My wife is too beautiful," he said, wrapping his arms tight around my waist. "I get sick thinking about other men staring at you." In the second month, he pressured me to quit my job. "I can support us," he insisted. "You hate your boss anyway.

Just stay home. I'll transfer you money whenever you want to buy something." I hesitated. His face fell. "Do you not trust me, Chloe?" I hated fighting, so I compromised. I quit.

After that, my world shrank. If I visited my parents for more than three hours, Dylan would bombard me with texts. Are you still there? You have your own home now.

Stop running back to your parents every day. The more I tried to explain, the angrier he got. The first time he hit me was because Leo sent me a birthday cake.

The frosting on the cake read: To my forever beautiful Chloe. Dylan didn't say anything while Leo was there.

But the moment the door closed behind my brother, Dylan grabbed the cake and hurled it into the trash can. "Is your brother sick in the head?" Dylan spat. "A grownman acting all sweet and clingy with his sister.

It's disgusting." "He's my brother!" I screamed. Dylan's hand flew across my face. SLAP. My ears rang. I stumbled backward, staring at him in shock.

Dylan froze, looking at his own hand. The next second, he fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around my legs and crying. "Chloe, I'm so sorry!

I'm so sorry!" "I just love you too much. I can't stand the thought of anyone else having a place in your heart." "I swear, I will never do it again. Please."

The second time, he smashed my phone. All because Leo sent me a text asking if I wanted to go to the mall with him on Saturday.

When Dylan saw the words "spend time with me," his face darkened instantly. "Does he not have any friends of his own?" "He was just asking if I was free," I said quietly.

Dylan grabbed my phone and threw it hard against the hardwood floor. The screen shattered into a web of cracks.

I knelt down to pick it up, but Dylan stepped on my hand, grinding his boot down. "Chloe, don't forget. You are married to me now." A piece of shattered glass sliced into my finger.

Beads of bright red blood welled up. When Dylan saw the blood, he panicked again. "I didn't mean to do that!" "Don't cry, baby. I'll buy you a new one.

The newest iPhone, okay?" That night, he held me tight and cried. He told me about his childhood, about how his parents' toxic relationship made him deeply insecure.

He said he worked so hard just to give me a perfect life. He said if I truly loved him, I would tolerate his temper. Listening to his soft, broken voice, my heart actually softened.

I pitied him. But then, the violence became a routine. When he drank too much, he would choke me until I couldn't breathe.

When his business went badly, he would throw heavy glass ashtrays at my feet. He went through my phone constantly. If he couldn't find anything, he accused me of deleting messages.

Once, while he was away on a business trip, I slipped away to visit my parents. Leo noticed the dark purple bruises on my wrists.

His face went entirely pale. "Chloe... who did this to you?" I quickly pulled my sleeves down. "I just bumped into a cabinet. It was an accident." Leo's lips trembled.

Tears spilled over his eyelashes. "You're lying to me." My chest tightened, but seeing him cry so hard made me put my own pain aside to comfort him. "I'm really fine," I lied. "Every married couple fights sometimes." That was what my motherinlaw, Beatrice, had taught me.

Every time she saw the bruises on my face, she would just sigh. "Chloe, Dylan just has a quick temper, but he has a good heart." "Men face so much pressure out there in the business world.

As his wife, you need to be more understanding." My fatherinlaw, Richard, was even better at smoothtalking. "A family's peace is worth everything," he would say. "If you make a big deal out of this, it will bring shame to both our families." "You young people shouldn't overreact to every little argument." I wanted to leave.

But I had no job. I had no access to our bank accounts.

Dylan had locked my passport and social security card in his safe, claiming he was "keeping them secure." He also threatened me using my family. "Doesn't your brother run a salon?" Dylan had sneered. "I could shut that place down with one phone call.

Try me." I was terrified. So, I kept an old, deactivated phone hidden in my closet, just in case. I never thought I'd actually have to use it. Until tonight.

Dylan came home reeking of whiskey. The moment he walked through the door, he demanded, "Who was here today?" "No one," I said.

He grabbed my phone and threw it onto the sofa. "Then explain this UberEats order on your Snapchat? Two boba teas?" I froze.

This afternoon, Leo had been worried I was lonely, so he ordered me some tea and cake. He had left a note on the delivery order: Drink something sweet and smile, Chloe!

Dylan stared at the note and let out a cold, sick laugh. "Your sissy brother again." "Does he think I can't control you?" "It was just boba, Dylan!" I screamed.

The next second, Dylan grabbed the plastic cups and hurled them against the wall.

The cups exploded, and the brown liquid splattered across the clean white wallpaper, dripping down like blood.

He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me toward the entryway. "Are you deaf, Chloe? Do you not understand a word I say?" I struggled, which only made him pull harder.

My head slammed violently against the corner of the heavy wooden cabinet. For a second, my vision went completely black. Something warm and wet began to trickle down my neck.

Even Dylan seemed startled by the amount of blood. But instead of helping me, his eyes went cold. He immediately locked the front door from the inside.

I slumped on the living room floor, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Dylan stood by the window, smoking. One cigarette after another.

Then, he called his parents. "She's making a scene again," Dylan said into the phone. "I barely touched her, and she threw herself against the cabinet." "You guys need to come over and talk some sense into her.

Otherwise, she's going to threaten me with divorce again." My head throbbed in agonizing waves. I knew I couldn't wait anymore.

While Dylan was on the balcony talking to his parents, I used the wall to pull myself up. I stumbled into the bedroom and locked the door. I grabbed the hidden phone.

There were only three contacts saved: Mom, Dad, Leo. My parents were old and in poor health. I didn't dare call them in the middle of the night. I stared at Leo's name, hesitating.

He was so easily frightened. As the call connected, I thought to myself: If he answers, I'll just ask him to call an Uber for me. I won't tell him the truth.

The phone rang three times. He picked up. Leo's side was loud; it sounded like he was closing up his salon. "Chloe? It's so late!

Do you miss me?" I opened my mouth, but my throat was so tight and dry it ached. Only one sentence managed to escape: "Leo...

I want to come home." The noise on his end vanished instantly. After a long pause, he asked, "Chloe... are you crying?" I couldn't answer.

I heard his breathing turn frantic. "Did that bastard Dylan hit you again?!" Leo's voice was trembling violently. "I'm coming to get you." I panicked. "Leo, don't!

Don't come here alone. Just... just call the police." I heard him sniffle. "I've already called Axel," Leo said, his voice shaking but urgent. "He's driving.

We're on our way." "Chloe, wait for me." I was stunned. He was speaking so fast, sobbing between words. "Also, I called a lawyer friend.

She said we have to preserve the evidence of domestic abuse. Don't wash the blood off, okay?" My heart felt like it had been pierced by something sharp and warm.

Even though he was terrified, he was learning how to save me on his way here. Suddenly, I heard Dylan's heavy footsteps approaching the bedroom door.

I scrambled to hang up and shoved the phone into my robe pocket. Just as I unlocked the door and stepped out, the doorbell rang. It was Beatrice and Richard.

The moment Beatrice walked in and saw the blood dripping down my neck, she quickly shut the door behind her. "Oh my goodness!

How did this happen?" Dylan grunted, looking away. "She ran into the cabinet herself." Beatrice immediately chimed in, "Of course, of course. Married couples get into scrambles.

It happens." "But Chloe, really, you should have been more careful.

Why didn't you just step aside?" I looked up at her, my vision blurry. "He grabbed me by my hair and threw me against it." Beatrice's face stiffened.

Richard sat down on the sofa, clearing his throat loudly. "Chloe, now is not the time to be dramatic." "Dylan's company is negotiating a massive government contract right now.

If rumors of this get out, it will ruin him. And that won't do any of us any good." My head spun. "I need to go to the hospital." Beatrice immediately cut in. "Hospital? For what?

We have rubbing alcohol and bandages here. I'll clean it up for you." Just then, another knock sounded on the door. Dylan opened it.

Standing outside was a middleaged woman wearing a neighborhood association badge, holding a manila folder. It was Brenda, the HOA coordinator and a close friend of the family.

She looked at my bleeding head, and her expression didn't show an ounce of surprise. "Chloe, dear, let's sit down and talk," Brenda said smoothly. "Couples have disagreements.

You shouldn't jump to call the police.

If you do, there's no turning back." She pulled a document from her folder and pushed it toward me. "Just sign this incident report." I looked down at the paper.

It read: The husband and wife had a minor domestic dispute. The wife became highly emotional and accidentally collided with the furniture, resulting in minor injuries.

The husband has apologized. The wife voluntarily waives the right to report to police or pursue legal action. Both parties agree to continue living together.

The words "accidentally collided" burned my eyes. I shook my head. "I'm not signing this."

The living room went dead silent.

Then, Dylan let out a harsh laugh. "Chloe, I've given you a way out." "Don't be ungrateful." Beatrice quickly pulled his arm. "Watch your tone, Dylan.

Don't scare her." But when she turned to me, her voice was freezing cold. "Chloe, Dylan has provided you with a beautiful life. You don't even have to work.

What more do you want?" I pointed to my bleeding head. "You call this a beautiful life?" Brenda sighed dramatically. "I've mediated dozens of couples, Chloe. Arguments happen.

If you throw him in jail today, you'll regret it tomorrow." My voice shook. "I won't regret it." Richard's face darkened completely. "Your brother's salon just opened, didn't it?" "If our friends and business partners find out you got divorced over a little fight, how do you think your parents will face the community?" I felt like I had been plunged into freezing water.

None of them cared about my pain. They only cared about saving Dylan from consequences.

Brenda shoved a pen into my hand. "Just sign it, dear." "Sign it, go to sleep, and everything will be fine tomorrow." I stared at the pen, my fingers completely numb.

Just then, the doorbell rang again. This time, Dylan didn't move to open it. He glared at me, realizing what was happening. "You called someone, didn't you?" I didn't say a word.

He scoffed and marched over to yank the door open. Leo was standing in the hallway. When Dylan saw him, he burst out laughing. "Well, well." "Look who's here.

The little sissy came for a midnight stroll?" Leo's face was ghostly pale.

But the moment he saw the blood on my forehead and neck, tears gushed from his eyes. "Chloe..." My heart ached terribly. "Leo, leave. Just go!" Leo shook his head violently.

He stepped into the apartment, his voice trembling so hard it was barely audible. "I'm taking you home." Dylan leaned against the doorframe, looking down at him with sheer amusement. "Taking her?" "With what?

You gonna hit me with your designer handbag?" Beatrice frowned. "Leo, this is adult business. Don't interfere." Leo ignored her completely.

He walked over and stood right in front of me. Even though his legs were visibly shaking, he shielded me with his body. Then, he pulled his phone out of his bag.

He started recording. He pointed the camera at everyone in the room. "My sister is not signing that paper." Brenda's face paled. "What are you doing?

Put that phone down!" Leo sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "No." "My sister is hurt.

She's going to the hospital, and we are calling the cops." The smirk wiped clean off Dylan's face. "Say that again?" Leo's hand was shaking so badly he could barely hold the phone.

But he raised his voice. "You beat her.

That's domestic violence." Dylan took a slow, threatening step toward him. "Leo, do you really think I won't lay a hand on you?" Leo instinctively flinched back, but he held the phone higher. "Stay back!

I'm recording everything!" Dylan sneered. "Recording? Let's see you record this!" He lunged forward to grab the phone.

Leo screamed and tried to dodge. "Leo!" I cried out, throwing myself forward to pull Dylan away. But Dylan shoved me back onto the sofa.

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through the back of my head. Leo's eyes were red from crying, but he clutched the phone to his chest, refusing to let go. "Get off of me!" he screamed.

Dylan gritted his teeth. "You think you're a man now?" "Get the hell out of my house!" Leo cried out in pain as Dylan grabbed his wrist.

Suddenly, Leo swung his designer handbag with his free hand, closing his eyes and slamming it repeatedly into Dylan's face. Dylan was furious.

He raised his massive hand, ready to strike. Leo squeezed his eyes shut and screamed at the top of his lungs: "Babe! Get in here and kick his ass!"