My Ex Dumped Me For A Richer Woman — Then He Begged For Me Back

Part 2

The decision to flee to Darbisha brought me a temporary, fragile peace, but the silence of the countryside was deceptive.

Two weeks into my stay, the quiet routine of my morning walks was violently interrupted by the smell of dense, acrid smoke.

I rushed toward the village, my heart pounding in my chest as I saw the small schoolhouse engulfed in furious flames.

I joined the chaotic bucket line without hesitation, my fine walking dress quickly ruined by dark soot and dirty water.

When the fire was finally extinguished, the charred, smoldering remains of the building left the entire village in despair.

I stood there, exhausted and covered in ash, wondering aloud where the children would possibly continue their education.

A familiar, steady voice answered from directly behind me, sending a sudden, involuntary shiver down my spine.

Craig had arrived, dismounting his horse with an effortless command that immediately drew the attention of the frantic villagers.

He offered the use of his own grand estate, Ashworth Hall, as a temporary school for the displaced children.

His generosity was entirely genuine, devoid of the performative arrogance I had come to expect from men of his station.

He looked at my ruined dress and soot-stained face with open, undeniable admiration, praising my dedication to the community.

As the days passed, a new routine settled over us, filled with morning lessons at his estate and long, profound conversations.

We spent hours in his magnificent library, discussing literature, philosophy, and the crucial importance of education for everyone.

I found myself falling into an easy, natural rhythm with him, the painful memories of London slowly beginning to fade.

But the fragile sanctuary we had built was shattered the afternoon a servant announced unexpected, deeply unwelcome visitors.

Tyler and Heather walked into the drawing room, their sudden presence a jarring intrusion into my newfound peace.

Heather’s eyes were calculating, her words dripping with condescension as she questioned Craig’s charitable involvement with the village peasants.

Tyler looked miserable, his gaze constantly seeking mine with a desperate, hungry regret that made me deeply uncomfortable.

When Craig escorted Heather to their carriage, Tyler cornered me alone in the grand entrance hall of Ashworth Hall.

He stepped far too close, his voice thick with a raw, panicked emotion I had never heard from him before.

He confessed that Heather’s fortune was a total fabrication, her family heavily in debt and deeply desperate for his title.

He begged me to understand that he had made a catastrophic mistake, claiming he had never stopped loving me.

He asked me to wait for him, promising to break his engagement and return to the life we had originally planned.

I looked at the man who had publicly shattered my heart, feeling absolutely nothing but a cold, distant pity.

I told him my heart now belonged to someone else, someone who valued my mind and spirit over social connections.

He left Ashworth Hall completely devastated, the reality of his own arrogant choices finally crashing down upon him.

But as I watched his carriage disappear down the long driveway, a chilling thought struck me with sudden, terrifying force.

Tyler had warned me about the dark rumors surrounding Craig’s past, rumors I had willingly chosen to ignore.

If Tyler was desperate enough to break a financially ruinous engagement, what lengths would he go to in order to destroy Craig?

What exactly was the Duke of Ashworth hiding, and what would happen when Tyler finally unearthed his deepest, darkest secret?