The sky was heavy with the scent of summer rain. Clouds gathered low, rolling like restless waves across the horizon, but the strawberry fields stretched bright and calm under the dim light. Aurora worked quietly, kneeling between the rows, her hands brushing against the cool leaves.

It had been weeks since the scandal broke out. Whispers in the village had not ceased, but thanks to Ethan’s unwavering presence, Aurora had found a fragile rhythm to hold on to. She rose with the sun, worked through the day, and sometimes—just sometimes—she even laughed again.

But peace never lasted long.

That afternoon, the crunch of wheels on gravel echoed from the front path. A sleek black car—so starkly out of place against the rustic farmhouse—came to a halt. Dust billowed. Workers looked up, murmuring, curious and wary. Aurora froze mid-motion, her chest constricting. That car was a symbol of the world she had lost, a world she thought she had escaped.

And then he stepped out.

Damien Blake.

Tall, sharp, dressed in a tailored suit that seemed absurd among dirt and vines, he radiated the same commanding aura that had once silenced entire ballrooms. His dark eyes scanned the fields until they found her, and a faint smirk curved his lips.

“Aurora,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, but cold beneath.

The sound of her name from his mouth was like glass cutting into her skin. Memories surged—their engagement parties, the whispered promises, the night he abandoned her without hesitation.

Her fists clenched around the small basket in her hands. “What are you doing here?”

Ethan had already walked over, wiping his hands on his shirt, protective as ever. He stopped just a step behind her, presence solid like a shield. “You’re not welcome here,” Ethan said evenly.

Damien’s gaze flicked to Ethan with mild disdain, then back to Aurora. “I didn’t come to speak with you,” he told Ethan. “This is between Aurora and me.”

Aurora lifted her chin, though her heart pounded violently. “There’s nothing between us anymore.”

Damien’s smirk deepened. “You think a broken engagement severs everything? Aurora, you carry the Williams name. No matter how far you run, society remembers. And so do I.”

The workers around them exchanged uneasy glances, whispers spreading like wildfire. Aurora felt the familiar sting of humiliation rise—his words designed to remind her of what she had lost.

But Ethan didn’t flinch. He stepped forward, just enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with her. “She owes you nothing. Whatever you had, you threw away the night you left her standing alone.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed, studying Ethan as though he were an obstacle he hadn’t anticipated. “And who are you to speak for her? Some farmer?”

Ethan’s voice was calm, but his gaze unyielding. “Someone who actually sees her. That’s more than you ever did.”

Aurora’s throat tightened. The air between the three of them burned with tension, the kind that could shatter with one wrong breath.

Damien let out a low laugh, smooth but edged. “I see. So this is what you’ve reduced yourself to, Aurora—trading ballrooms for barns, diamonds for dirt. How quaint.”

Aurora’s basket trembled in her grip, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. “I’d rather have dirt under my nails than blood on my conscience.”

For the first time, Damien’s smirk faltered. His jaw twitched, a shadow flickering across his expression. Then, with a sharp inhale, he straightened his jacket.

“This isn’t over,” he said quietly, but the threat in his tone was unmistakable. “You’ll come to regret this little… experiment.”

He turned on his heel, his polished shoes crunching against the gravel as he walked back to his car. The black vehicle roared to life, kicking up dust before disappearing down the road, leaving silence and unease in its wake.

Aurora exhaled shakily, her body trembling as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until Ethan gently touched her arm.

“Hey,” he said softly. “He’s gone.”

But her mind whispered otherwise. Damien Blake never truly left. His presence lingered like a storm on the horizon—inevitable, threatening.

Her eyes burned, but she blinked the tears away. “He won’t stop. He’s not the kind of man who accepts ‘no.’”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts clear in every line of his body. “Then we’ll face him. Together.”

The word together wrapped around her heart like a fragile promise, fragile but precious.

Aurora looked out at the strawberry fields, the world that had become her fragile sanctuary, and fear coiled within her. She knew Damien’s return was not just a visit. It was a warning.

The past she thought she had buried was clawing its way back. And this time, it would not leave quietly.