My Three Elite Brothers Shattered After My Death

Chapter 9

Alexander's eyes darkened as he forced out a bitter laugh. "Nathaniel, it's me."

Nathaniel's voice crackled through the phone, thick with regret and panic.

"Alexander, give the phone to Evelyn. Let me apologize to her—properly this time!"

Alexander's chest tightened painfully, as if an invisible hand were crushing his heart. His voice broke as he cried out,

"It's Evelyn's phone. She left it behind in the cellar!"

A heavy silence stretched between them before Nathaniel's voice trembled.

"Evelyn... then where is Evelyn now...?"

"Alexander, wait for me. I'm coming home!"

Beside him, Sophia's face paled, beads of cold sweat forming at her temples.

"Big brother, please—let me explain—"

But before she could finish, Alexander lashed out, his foot connecting with her ribs and sending her crashing to the floor.

"Restrain her!" he roared.

Servants rushed forward, pinning Sophia down as she struggled.

Leaning heavily against the wall, Alexander still clutched Evelyn's phone in his shaking hand when it rang again.

I glanced at the screen—Benjamin was calling.

Benjamin, the prodigy painter, obsessed with every hue and shade the world had to offer.

Four days ago, I had tracked down an impossibly rare vermilion pigment for him, knowing how much he would adore it.

I never thought I’d die before he even discovered my gift.

Alexander answered the call. Benjamin’s voice, usually sharp with arrogance, had softened slightly.

"Alright, Evelyn, enough with the silent treatment. You messed up, but wherever you are, just come home. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you."

As Benjamin rambled on, Alexander cut in coldly.

"Benjamin. That body—did you order it burned?"

"That might have been our sister."

The line went dead silent.

Then, Benjamin’s voice cracked.

"That’s... impossible. That couldn’t have been—"

"No. Evelyn wouldn’t look like that. Three days in the cellar wouldn’t turn her into something so... grotesque."

"I’m coming back. We’ll run a DNA test. Hair samples should be enough. That wasn’t her. It couldn’t have been."

The call ended abruptly.

Alexander’s knees gave out, and he collapsed to the floor, his sobs raw and broken. Moments later, a servant hesitantly approached, carrying an urn.

"Young master... these are the young miss’s ashes."

Alexander’s jaw clenched, denial flaring in his eyes. He gritted his teeth, his voice dangerously low.

"What are you talking about? That’s not my sister."

"Evelyn Montgomery is missing. Not dead."

Just then, another servant stepped forward, holding out a DNA report with trembling hands.

"Young master... when the third young master ordered the cremation, we took the liberty of running a DNA comparison."

"The results confirm it... was the young miss."