Meet My Brothers Free Preview

"Amelia, this is the DNA test result. You are not Mr. Milton's biological daughter. Mr. Milton has found his real daughter and wants you to stop contacting them."

Amelia arrived at her fiancé's house.

It felt like a dream. She wasn't Jackson's daughter?

She'd always wondered why Jackson let her take the Cromwell name.

Now she knew—Jackson had known all along that she wasn't his daughter.

She mustered the courage to text her fiance, Maynard Simmons, "Coming home for dinner tonight?"

The wait felt endless. He hated being disturbed at work, and she worried he'd ignore her like he used to.

But a second later, her phone lit up with his cold reply, "Yeah, we need to talk."

Relieved, Amelia hurried to buy groceries and whipped up several of her best dishes.

She placed the DNA test on the table, then thought better of it and flipped it over.

As evening fell, a black luxury car pulled into the yard.

Maynard got out, his suit jacket casually draped over his arm. His tall frame and sharp features made him look like a model off the runway.

"Maynard, you're home!"

Amelia jogged over, reaching for his jacket, but he handed her a document instead. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Take a look. If you have any demands, go ahead."

She glanced down at the first page, where the title "Breakup Agreement" stared back at her.

The stark white paper hurt her eyes.

Maynard tugged at his tie, looking tired from work. He glanced at his fiancee, with her round, baby-faced features that made her look pretty cute.

He didn't love her. He'd only proposed because his grandma adored her.

Amelia kept his grandma company, strolled with her in Central Park, baked cupcakes, and watched old movies together.

Life had become more colorful for his grandma, and her health improved.

Their engagement was just a deal.

Staying together would only waste Amelia's youth. Better to end it.

"Are you breaking up with me because of my identity?" Amelia asked, her voice trembling.

Had Maynard already found out she wasn't a Milton by blood?

"Identity?" He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Never mind. I was just wondering, would you still break up if we had a kid?"

"Yes," he said coldly, his eyes flicking to her stomach.

"Are you pregnant?"

She shook her head.

Maynard let out a sigh of relief. He didn't want to bring a child into an unhappy relationship—like his parents had done.

Amelia watched his retreating back, swallowing back tears. She hadn't told him about the DNA test.

His words felt like a gentle knife stabbing her heart.

She glanced at the dinner she'd prepared, now cold, and dumped it all in the trash.

Growing up, her parents never loved her. They sent her to live with her aunt, Rosemary, who was kind to her.

All Amelia ever wanted was a family of her own.

She'd been Maynard's fiancee for three years, even though she knew he didn't love her.

But you can't warm a cold stone, no matter how hard you try.

Without even reading the breakup agreement, she signed her name at the bottom.

That night, she moved to the study. She couldn't go back to the Miltons, and Maynard hadn't kicked her out yet. For now, this was her home.

The next morning, Amelia got a call from Maynard's mom, Felicia.

"Amelia, have the maid clean up the guest room on the second floor. We're expecting guests for a few days. Make sure they're well taken care of."

Before Amelia could ask who, Felicia hung up.

By the time she went downstairs, Maynard had already left for work.

In the afternoon, a young woman dressed head-to-toe in designer clothes walked into the hall. Amelia's eyes widened. Was this the guest Felicia mentioned? She was stunning.

Amelia's mind flashed with bitterness. In the past, she would've been jealous. But she was already broken up with Maynard. Any woman living here was none of her business.

"Hi," Amelia began, but the woman ignored her, walked around the hall, and then turned to the butler, Adrian.

"The curtains are ugly, and I hate the sofa. Change everything in the bedroom to my favorite brands."

"Who are you?" Amelia asked.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Misty Erikson, the future lady of the house. Naturally, I get to decide the decor."

"You're Misty?"

A wave of bitterness washed over Amelia. No wonder Maynard broke up with her.

Misty was back, and she was just a stand-in.

"Looks like you've heard of me. Sign the breakup agreement. You've held this spot for three years. Time to move on."

Amelia replied coolly, "So sentimental. Where were you when Maynard was in a car accident and in a coma?"

Misty's face froze. "My brothers kept me locked up. I couldn't see Maynard. Anyway, if you want your family to stay safe, sign the agreement."

She glanced at the breakup agreement on the coffee table, feeling triumphant. She'd waited three years for this day.

"I've already signed it," Amelia said.

"Good choice."

Misty pulled out a check from her designer bag. "Here's a million dollars. Consider it compensation."

Amelia didn't even glance at the check, a flash of mockery in her eyes.

"Think it's too little? This is your income for ten years. Take the money and stay out of our lives. Maynard and I are a perfect match. After all, you're just the daughter of a small businessman. You don't belong in our world."

Amelia felt another stab of pain. She hurried upstairs to the master bedroom, planning to leave whether Misty was there or not.

With the breakup, she had no reason to stay.

As she packed, she realized how little she had—her things barely filled a suitcase.

The past three years felt like a dream.

She saw the DNA test result on the bedside table and thought to herself, It's time to end this.

Just then, Misty walked in uninvited, holding the breakup agreement. "Are you packed?" she asked.

Seeing the paper on the nightstand, she looked puzzled.

Amelia quickly grabbed the DNA test and crumpled it. She didn't want Misty to know her secret.

Misty still thought she was part of the Milton family and already looked down on her.

If she knew Amelia's real parents were nowhere to be found, who knows what cruel things she'd say.

But Misty noticed Amelia's move and asked, surprised, "Are you pregnant?"

Amelia clutched the DNA test tightly. "If I were pregnant, we wouldn't be breaking up."

"True. A gold-digger like you would never let go of an opportunity. But even if you were pregnant, Maynard wouldn't want the kid," Misty said.

Amelia turned and walked into the closet, but Misty followed. "Wait, let me see that paper you took from the table," she demanded.

She couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to see it. If Amelia was pregnant, it had to be dealt with.

Amelia held the crumpled DNA test close. "It's my privacy."

"What privacy? I think you're trying to steal valuables. Give it to me!"

Misty reached for it and tried to slap her. Amelia reacted instinctively and threw her over her shoulder. Misty landed on the floor, wailing, "My foot! It hurts so much!"

"Amelia, what are you doing?"

Maynard's cold voice cut through the room. Amelia turned to see him walk in, her heart sinking. "Maynard, it's not what it looks like..."

But he walked past her, picked up Misty, and saw the breakup agreement on the floor—Amelia's signature on the last page.

He paused, surprised she'd signed so quickly.

"Maynard?" he heard Misty say.

He snapped back to reality and asked, "Are you okay?"

"My hand hurts so much. Is it broken? Will I ever play the piano again?" Misty whined.

Maynard laid her on the bed. "No, it's not broken. I'll get a doctor to check it out."

He turned to Amelia. "Apologize to Misty."

Misty was the eldest daughter of the Erikson family, with three overprotective brothers. If the Eriksons found out she'd been hit, Amelia would be in deep trouble.

Hearing Maynard call Misty's name made Amelia's heart ache again.

She'd always been a stand-in for Misty.

Her heart felt numb with pain. She croaked, "Apologize?"

"You were the one who struck first. Even a kid knows that. Besides, do you have any idea how important those hands are to a pianist?"

Misty mattered more than anything. Amelia was less than a weed on the roadside.

She'd endured it for three years, but she couldn't take it anymore.

Stubbornly, she said, "Whether you believe it or not, she was the one who started it!"

Adrian, the butler, chimed in at the door, "Mr. Simmons, I saw Amelia push Miss Erikson with my own eyes."

Maynard's brow furrowed. "Apologize!" he barked.

"What if I don't?" Amelia challenged.

Surprise flickered in his eyes. "You've got some nerve. Think about what happened to your uncle in the hospital's VIP ward!" he threatened.

Amelia held back her tears. She couldn't believe he'd used her uncle to scare her.

She finally bowed to reality and croaked, "I'm sorry."

Misty was overjoyed inside but put on a show. "For Maynard's sake, I'll forgive you."

Amelia straightened her back and looked at Maynard. "Can I go now?"

He glanced at the breakup agreement, his brow furrowing slightly. He hadn't expected her to sign so easily.

"Do you have a place to stay?" he asked.

"No," she replied instinctively, surprised he seemed to care.

[$]

He quickly averted his gaze. "Bring some ice for Misty. Her foot is twisted because of you. Do you really think you can just walk away?"

Of course, it was all for Misty.

Amelia's steps were stiff as she left the room. The other woman had barged in and taken over the bed, and yet Amelia had to bring her ice.

She felt like a complete failure.

She took a shaky breath and brought the ice upstairs.

Pushing the door open, she didn't see Maynard. Where was he?

Misty was leaning against the headboard, her lips curled. "Just leave the ice and go. Do you really think I need you to serve me? Or do you want to watch Maynard and me get cosy? It has been three years, after all."

Misty's words hinted at something.

That's when Amelia heard the sound of water from the bathroom—Maynard was taking a shower!

The blood drained from her face.

They had just broken up, and he was already in bed with another woman.

The thought of what was about to happen in that bed made Amelia's stomach churn, but she forced herself to stay calm.

She turned and walked into the closet to pack her things. In no time, she had a suitcase ready.

"Adrian, that suitcase looks like a designer brand. Find her something else to pack her things," Misty's shrill voice rang out, dripping with contempt.

Soon, Adrian brought over an old cardboard box and threw it at Amelia's feet. "Use this," he grumbled.

Amelia squatted down to open her suitcase, but Misty's voice came again, "Check her luggage properly later. Some people have sticky fingers. We don't want her taking anything she's not supposed to."

Hearing this, Amelia's mind flashed back to Maynard's cold, ruthless look.

He was in the bathroom next door, and if he found the DNA test result, he'd probably humiliate her even more.

Adrian and Misty were watching her closely outside the closet. Amelia glanced at the DNA test hidden deep in her suitcase and made a quick decision.

She turned away and tore the paper into tiny pieces, then swallowed them one by one, forcing them down.

She looked at Maynard's clothes in the closet, and the last spark of hope in her heart was extinguished.

From now on, she would have nothing to do with him.

Dragging the cardboard box, Amelia walked out of the closet and asked coldly, "Do you want to check it?"

Misty clapped her hand over her mouth, her face twisted with disgust. "Get her out of here and check that box outside. It stinks!"

She knew that if Maynard came out of the shower, she wouldn't be able to get rid of Amelia so easily. She couldn't leave this threat behind.

Adrian pushed Amelia hard and growled, "Get out of here!"

Amelia walked alone toward the villa's entrance. The short distance felt like an eternity.

Adrian grabbed the cardboard box from her, dumped everything on the ground, and started searching, as if looking for something vital.

But the DNA test was already inside Amelia.

She squatted down and quietly picked up her scattered belongings when her phone rang.

[$]

Tears streamed down her face as soon as she heard Rosemary's voice.

She held back her tears when Misty humiliated her, and Maynard misunderstood her, but hearing Rosemary's voice finally broke her.

Her voice was choked with sobs. "Rosemary."

"Sweetheart, why are you crying?"

"Rosemary, I broke up with Maynard. And I'm not Jackson's biological daughter. I don't have a family anymore."

"I'm calling to tell you some good news. I heard that your family is looking for you."

Amelia froze. "My family?"

"Yes, don't cry. I heard you have parents and even a few brothers."

Before Amelia could respond, her phone died.

"Amelia, what are you up to now?"

Maynard walked out of the hall in an oversized bathrobe. He had meant to let her stay for a few more days, but she packed and was about to leave while he took a shower.

He looked at the scattered clothes on the ground—nothing but ordinary clothes, not a single luxury item.

Hadn't she become his fiancée just to get these things while he was in a coma?

Now, she was left with nothing?

Maynard frowned at the old cardboard box. "Playing hard to get again? Trying to look pitiful? Grandma's not here!"

After three years of dating, he had never been ungenerous with her financially.

Was she really leaving, or was this just an act?

Amelia clutched her dead phone tightly, still processing what Rosemary had said.

To Maynard, her distraction seemed like an admission.

Misty limped out, pretending to be hurt, with a fake smile on her face but a voice full of malice. "Maynard, she was packing to leave and insisted on using a dirty cardboard box from the kitchen. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen."

Adrian quickly added, "Mr. Simmons, I tried to talk some sense into Amelia, but she wouldn't budge. She scattered her clothes everywhere. She had a designer suitcase but chose to look pitiful. If word gets out, people will think the Simons family is mistreating her."

The air grew silent. Amelia stood there like a statue, listening to their lies.

She looked at Maynard, wondering what he would say.

His gaze was piercing. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

Exactly.

Amelia's eyes flashed with mockery. "They've said everything."

'What's the point of explaining when you won't believe me?'

"Amelia, are you never satisfied? What more do you want?"

In his eyes, she was just a gold-digger.

Amelia shrugged. "I just wanted to be one of those rich wives who shop till they drop or enjoy beauty and afternoon tea. The most I got to do was cook in the kitchen and go to the supermarket. After three years, I'm kicked out, wasting three years of my life. Now, I don't want to serve you anymore. Is that so wrong?"

Amelia let out all her pent-up grievances in one breath, and immediately felt much better.

"Finished?"

Maynard's eyes were filled with confusion. He had given her a credit card and had Adrian send her designer clothes and bags every season.

Now, he'd given her a large sum of money for the breakup—enough for her to live comfortably. He thought he'd done his part.

[$]

"Can't finish in a few words," she replied.

"Go on," he urged.

"I can, but it'll cost you more," she smirked.

Maynard's lips pressed tightly together. "Amelia, you really are all about the money. Greed never ends well," he warned.

She was still not satisfied, even after all he'd done for her.

Amelia's eyes were defiant yet clear, and he couldn't understand how a woman he thought was nothing but a gold-digger with a mouth full of lies could have such pure eyes.

But she'd caused trouble repeatedly, and now she didn't even bother to hide it anymore. He'd thought she'd finally show her true colors.

He should have felt relieved, but seeing her signature on the breakup agreement felt like punching into cotton—utterly pointless.

Amelia's eyes hid her sorrow, but she pretended not to care. She didn't want to leave with her dignity trampled underfoot.

Misty, sensing the tension, quickly changed her tone to one of malicious speculation. "Amelia, are you in such a hurry to sign the breakup because you've already found someone new?"

Maynard's face turned cold instantly, and he stared at Amelia with a scrutinizing gaze.

Amelia met his distrustful look head-on. "Yeah, if the new guy is good enough, no ex is worth remembering."

"You've been living off my money, and you had the nerve to find someone else?" Maynard's face darkened.

Amelia glanced at the clothes on the ground. "Here, take them back."

She had only taken a few inconspicuous items, leaving all the designer bags and jewelry untouched.

Maynard ignored the clothes and looked at her. "What you're wearing was bought by me too."

"Then take it back," she said, starting to unbutton her blouse, revealing her delicate collarbones and the subtle curves beneath.

[$]

Misty took out her phone, wanting to capture this.

[$]

Maynard's face turned ashen. "Enough! Amelia, you're the most shameless woman I've ever met. Get out of here. I never want to see you again!"

With that, Maynard turned and walked back into the hall, his back as cold and distant as ever.

Amelia stopped unbuttoning her shirt, a flash of mockery in her eyes. Didn't he tell her to take it off?

Misty, disappointed, put her phone away and raised an eyebrow with a cruel smile. "You can't just strip and expect someone to pay for it. You were born poor, and you'll stay that way. No amount of pretending will change that."

Amelia picked up the cardboard box, sniffing back tears. Sometimes she really envied those born into good fortune.

Just then, a loud buzzing sound filled the air. A helicopter descended assertively onto the lawn.

Several tall, black-clad bodyguards stepped out and marched over.

Maynard, hearing the helicopter, stood at the entrance of the hall and watched as the bodyguards approached Amelia.

The bodyguard bowed respectfully. "Miss, we're here to take you away."

Take her away?

Amelia looked at the helicopter and suddenly remembered Rosemary's call about finding her family.

Could it be that her family had sent them to pick her up?

She pinched her cheek, feeling like she was dreaming.

Misty's face twisted with mockery. "Amelia, you really know how to put on a show. Where did you find these hired actors? You're just a country bumpkin. No matter how hard you try, you can't hide your poor background. And a helicopter? You've probably never seen one up close before, hick!"

Before Amelia could respond, the bodyguard beside her slapped Misty hard, sending her sprawling face-first into the dirt.

Misty screamed, "Amelia, how dare you! Do you know who I am? Who my brothers are? I'll make your whole family pay!"

Amelia looked at Misty's dishevelled state and smiled. "My brother might be a billionaire," she said, turning toward the helicopter.

"Amelia, stop right there!" Maynard's voice was filled with anger.

She paused for a moment but kept walking, boarding the helicopter without looking back.

Maynard watched her retreating figure, unconsciously quickening his pace to a jog.

Misty clung to his arm pitifully. "Maynard, you saw it! Amelia had someone hit me!"

But Maynard didn't even glance at Misty. His eyes were fixed on Amelia's disappearing figure, filled with a mix of emotions.

"Maynard, Amelia must have already found someone new. Why else would a rich man send a helicopter for her right after the breakup?"

"Shut up," Maynard growled, realizing that Amelia might have actually found someone else.

He thought that Amelia had said those words to provoke him.

[$]

He immediately called his assistant."Amelia was taken away by a helicopter. Find out where she's going."

"Maynard, you really care about Amelia? She's already betrayed you for another man."

"Shut up."

On the helicopter, Amelia gazed at the city's night view, a faint smile playing on her lips. She finally felt free.

Half an hour later, the helicopter landed on the rooftop of a luxurious hotel.

As Amelia stepped off, tall, black-clad bodyguards lined both sides, saluting in unison, "Welcome, Miss Cromwell!"

Amelia looked at the scene, wondering if it was all too much.

At the end of the line, she saw two people. One was Rosemary, and the other was a stern-looking man in a black suit.

The man nodded as Amelia approached, while Rosemary said, "This is from the Jenkins family. They said they wanted to talk to you."

[$]

Amelia was puzzled, but before she could speak, her other phone rang.

"Amelia, new job! Amelia, new job! Amelia..."

She quickly pulled out her phone and answered on the third ring, "What is it?"

"Amelia, there's a big deal in LA. Are you interested?"

She asked, "What kind of job?"

"The richest man in New York is looking for his long-lost granddaughter. She's supposed to be in LA, and the reward is huge."

Amelia yawned. "Not interested."

She hung up and turned to the man.

"Jenkins family? What do you want with me?"

"Our third young master, Carl, needs a doctor. We're offering one million for the consultation."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Tell me more. What's wrong with him?"

The man frowned, looking both reluctant and cautious. "Carl has been in poor health for years. We can't disclose the details, but the Jenkins family is being very sincere. If you agree, the money is guaranteed."

Amelia nodded thoughtfully. The Jenkins family was indeed wealthy, sending a helicopter to fetch her.

She had thought for a moment that she'd finally found her real family, but this job intrigued her.

[$]

A meaningful smile curled her lips as she tapped her phone with her porcelain-white fingers. After a moment, she said, "This sounds complicated, but I'll take the job."

A flicker of relief crossed the man's eyes. "Thank you, Miss Cromwell. Everything is ready at the Caesar Hotel. They're waiting for you."

Amelia now looked confident, a stark contrast to her demeanor at Maynard's house.

She smiled and said, "No rush. I'll sleep on it and start tomorrow."

Amelia's biggest interest, aside from making money, was curing all sorts of difficult cases.

Jobs like this one from the Jenkins family were right up her alley.

The next morning, Amelia woke up in the hotel bed.

On hot mornings like this, she always hated leaving the soft mattress.

But since she had taken the job, she had to get going.

After washing her face, she left and headed toward the Caesar Hotel.

Just as she was about to arrive, a scream came from across the street!

"Help! Someone's fainted!"

In an instant, a crowd gathered.

"Oh my god, it's a little kid!"

"His face is so pale. It's terrifying..."

Hearing the commotion, Amelia didn't hesitate. She stopped, quickly pushed through the crowd, and knelt beside the boy.

The little boy, no more than four or five, lay on the ground, his forehead beaded with sweat and his face utterly pale.

A middle-aged man grabbed a guy in a casual shirt with a medical bag. "Hey, buddy, you a doctor? Help this kid!"

The man shrugged. "Can't do it, sir. The parents aren't here, and I don't want to take risks. Besides, I don't treat just anyone."

Amelia pushed past them and said in a calm, professional tone, "Everyone, step back and let some air through. He needs fresh air."

Her confident demeanor and firm voice seemed to calm the crowd, who quickly made space for her.

Amelia knelt down, placed her hand on the boy's wrist to check his pulse, and observed his complexion and breathing.

A middle-aged woman nearby asked, "Young lady, are you a doctor?"

Amelia quickly unbuttoned the boy's suit jacket and found a shady spot. "Don't worry, I have a medical license," she said, pulling out a folding medical kit from her backpack.

[$]

Inside were rows of tools and surgical scalpels, neatly arranged.

"Stop!" the man in the casual shirt shouted. "How can you just treat a patient like this?"

Ignoring him, Amelia focused on the boy's pulse and heart rate.

The man, Oliver, scoffed, "I'm a student at The Capital Medical University. My teacher is Dr. Adler. You say you have a license? How old are you?"

Amelia didn't respond, keeping her attention on the boy.

"I'm talking to you!" Oliver said, annoyed at being ignored. "You're delaying the rescue. Let me do CPR on the patient."

Amelia glanced at him coldly.

"He has heatstroke. Why would you do CPR?" Her voice was icy. "Quack."