My Ex-Husband Begged Me to Take Him Back - Chapter 331

Chapter 331: Safe escape Chapter 331: Safe escape The moment the lighter hit the ground, the gasoline ignited with a deafening roar.

Orange and blue flames raced across the floor, devouring everything in their path.

Heat exploded outward, searing the skin and blinding the eyes.

The man staggered backward, cursing as the fire spread rapidly, licking up the walls and curling toward the ceiling.

Thomas, alarmed, pushed his weight backward, rocking the chair on its hind legs in a frantic attempt to escape the encroaching fire.

With a loud crack, the chair toppled over, and Thomas crashed to the hard concrete floor.

His head slammed against the ground, sending stars exploding across his vision.

“Ugh!” he grunted in pain.

But there was no time.

Ignoring the throbbing ache, he twisted onto his side and began inching toward the door, scraping his body along the floor.

Lydia’s scream pierced through the crackling inferno.

Thomas whipped his head and took a look, only to see fire all over Lydia.

His froze, eyes wide and mouth agape.

For a moment, everything else fell away.

The gunfire outside, the suffocating smoke, his own desperate need to survive-all of it vanished as he watched Lydia writhe in the grip of the very destruction she had unleashed.

On the other side of the room, the man in the black suit coughed violently, his face shielded by his arm as thick smoke billowed through the doorway.

His eyes, bloodshot and stinging, squinted into the haze.

Through the swirling gray, he caught sight of Thomas, sprawled on the floor, just beyond the reach of the hungry flames.

“Mr.

Williams,” he barked, snapping into action.

Ignoring the blistering heat, he lunged forward.

Reaching Thomas, he hooked his arms under his shoulders and yanked him backward with all the strength he could muster.

The two men stumbled out into the hallway.

Thomas coughed violently, finally snapping out of his daze.

The sudden jolt of movement sent fresh pain shooting through his body, but it didn’t matter.

He was alive.

The man beside him wiped soot from his brow.

“That was too close,” he muttered.

Thomas didn’t respond.

He blinked through watery eyes, glancing back toward the room now fully consumed by fire.

It was over.

Lydia’s screams had fallen silent.

The flames had taken everything.

The other members of the rescue team stormed down the corridor, weapons drawn and adrenaline coursing through their veins.

But the moment they reached the threshold of the room, they froze.

Amidst the roaring inferno, Lydia’s charred figure crumpled to the floor.

The man in the black suit, face streaked with soot and sweat, turned to Thomas, who was still tied to the chair.

“Are you okay?” the man asked, inching toward him.

“Let me untie you first.” Pulling a small tactical knife from his belt, he sliced through the frayed ropes binding Thomas’s wrists.

Thomas blinked slowly, looking at his reddened skin.

He was still shocked, his mind yet to process what had just happened.

“Can you stand?” the man asked, gripping Thomas’s arm firmly.

Numbly, Thomas nodded, allowing himself to be hauled to his feet.

His legs wobbled beneath him, but the man steadied him with a strong hand.

“Mr.

Brooks is waiting for you in the car,” he informed him.

“Let me take you there.” Thomas looked back at him, barely registering his words.

He nodded in a daze and let the guard take him away.

The sharp wail of sirens pierced the air, growing louder as two police cars sped down the deserted street.

Dylan, seated in the back of a sleek black Rolls-Royce parked discreetly on the side of the road, glanced out the tinted window.

His sharp eyes tracked the approaching vehicles.

He shifted his gaze toward Justin, who sat in the passenger seat, already alert.

“Go and deal with them.” “Understood.” Justin slipped out of the car smoothly, adjusting his jacket as he strode toward the oncoming officers.

After some time, Thomas stumbled in and collapsed onto the seat beside Dylan.

His clothes were disheveled, soiled, and reeking of smoke.

His face was pale, and his eyes were hollow, haunted by what he had just witnessed.

He didn’t speak – didn’t move.

Dylan looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

He was relieved that Thomas was alright, but his vacant stare gnawed at his instincts.

He gently put his hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention.

The touch startled Thomas.

He flinched, jerking upright with wide, frantic eyes, as though he had been pulled from a nightmare.

Dylan’s hand remained firm, grounding him.

“Easy.

You’re safe now.” The tension slowly drained from Thomas’s face, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

He let out a shaky breath and sank back into the seat.

“Here,” Dylan said, grabbing a water bottle from the console and pressing it into his hand.

“Drink.” Thomas wordlessly took the bottle, twisting the cap with trembling fingers.

He raised it to his lips and took a long sip, the cool water soothing his parched throat.

“Lydia €“ she is dead,” he finally found his voice.

He exhaled deeply.

“Such a terrible end€¦” Her words still echoed in his ears, and he wondered if things would have been if he had agreed to marry her back then.

“She blamed me,” Thomas continued.

“She said I was the reason for all her suffering, that my rejection ruined her life.

She didn’t just want revenge.

She wanted to die with me.” He turned his head and looked at Dylan.

“Tell me,” he rasped.

“Was it really my fault?

Am I the reason for all of this?

Was I wrong all along?” Dylan didn’t react immediately.

He didn’t know exactly what twisted words Lydia had poured into his mind, but he couldn’t let her final act leave such a deep scar.

“That woman was insane,” Dylan said sharply.

“Don’t let her poison your mind with guilt.

She was drowning in her own bitterness, and she wanted to pull you down with her.” Thomas’s hollow eyes flickered with uncertainty.

Sensing his hesitation, Dylan spoke again.

“I know Lydia loved you.

She wanted to marry you, to build a life with you.

But you didn’t feel the same way, and that’s not a crime.

Even if you had married her, it wouldn’t have made her happy.

She would’ve lived with resentment, feeling like she had forced something that was never meant to be.” Dylan knew all too well what a loveless marriage felt like-the slow suffocation, the bitterness, the way two people could destroy each other when love was absent and misunderstandings took root.

In his past life, he and Ava had lived through that nightmare, tearing each other apart until there was nothing left but regret.

He was fortunate to have a second chance to rewrite his fate and build something real with Ava this time.

“Don’t dwell on her words,” he suggested.

“She wanted you to feel guilty, to see yourself as the villain, to shift the blame for her own choices onto you.

But deep down, you know the truth.

You chose the woman you loved, and there is nothing wrong with that.

Lydia’s suffering wasn’t your doing.” Clarity began to return to Thomas.

The fog of guilt slowly lifted chasing the guilt that clouded his heart.

“You’re right,” he murmured.

“I didn’t make a wrong choice.

I chose the woman I loved.” Dylan exhaled quietly, relief softening his features.

“Now let’s go home.

Ava must be worried sick.” He lifted his hand and gave a subtle wave to the driver.

The engine purred to life, and the car glided smoothly onto the road.