Bound by Fate
The streets of 18th-century Florence were alive with the sounds of chatter and horse hooves on cobblestones. Isabella pressed herself against the cold stone wall of an alleyway, heart pounding. How had she gotten here again? The locket burned against her skin as if reacting to the very fabric of time itself.
She had spent days—weeks? —slipping between her time and Alessandro's world. Each time, the line between past and present blurred. And now, she was trapped.
The first time Alessandro had kissed her, it had been reckless and desperate, hidden behind the grand archways of the De Luca estate. He had whispered her name as though it was a secret only, they could share. But love was dangerous in this world. The walls had ears, and betrayal lingered in the shadows.
"Isabella," he murmured, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "You must leave. If they find you—"
"I won't leave you," she breathed, clutching his coat.
But fate had other plans.
The masquerade ball was their only chance. Amongst the sea of masked nobles, Isabella had to find the woman in emerald—the one who knew the truth about the locket. She had seen glimpses of her in dreams, always standing just beyond reach.
When she finally found her, the woman's eyes locked onto hers, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
"You do not belong here," she said in a voice like silk. "And yet, here you are."
Isabella's pulse quickened. "You know who I am?"
The woman leaned in; her perfume laced with something intoxicating. "I know what you carry. And I know the cost of love across time."
The night had been a trap. Alessandro had been seized before her eyes, accused of treason against the duke. Isabella screamed his name as they dragged him away, his eyes burning with a silent plea: Run.
But she didn't run. She searched. She bargained. She fought against history itself to save him.
Days blurred together as Isabella sought a way back to Alessandro. The locket's magic grew unpredictable, and every failed attempt left her weaker. The old historian had warned her: "Time does not like to be rewritten."
But love did not care for the laws of time.
And so, she made a choice. One final attempt to return to Alessandro—to save him before history sealed his fate.
The moment the locket pulsed with energy; she whispered his name.
And then, the world went dark.
When Isabella awoke, she was no longer in Florence. The architecture was familiar, yet different—older, grander. Panic seized her chest. Had she gone too far back?
She barely had time to gather her bearings before she was seized by strangers—men draped in dark cloaks; their eyes gleaming with hidden knowledge.
"You are meddling with forces beyond your comprehension," one of them said, tightening his grip on her arm. "And now, you will answer for it."
Meanwhile, back in Florence, Alessandro languished in a dungeon, betrayed by someone he had once called a brother. Count Lorenzo, his closest childhood friend, had sold him out to save his own name.
"Why?" Alessandro rasped; his hands chained to the wall.
Lorenzo smirked. "Because love makes fools of us all. And you, my friend, were the biggest fool of all."
Isabella, held captive by the mysterious cloaked figures, realized the truth—this was a secret order, one dedicated to maintaining the balance of time. They had been watching her, waiting for her to make a mistake.
"You cannot change the past," the leader warned. "But you already have. And now, we must decide whether to let you live."
The locket flared with energy, burning hotter than ever.
Isabella had one chance.
One chance to save Alessandro.
One chance to fix everything before time shattered around her.
And she would take it.