Falling For You in the Wrong Century

CHAPTER 8: THE FIANCEE

It’s a perfect afternoon—Romano and I are planning a trip to the nearby mountains to pick wild berries and visit the sacred spring he says only locals know about. We’re sitting on our usual bench under the banyan tree, his calloused hands covering mine as he draws a map in the dirt with a stick, when a woman storms up to us, her face twisted with anger so fierce it makes the market vendors fall silent.

“Romano Graciano! How dare you?” she shouts, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the street like broken glass. She’s dressed in deep red silk embroidered with golden thread, heavy gold earrings swinging as she moves, and her dark hair pinned up in an elaborate style with pearl pins that catch the sun. “You promised me we’d speak today about our wedding preparations—my father has already ordered the invitations—and I find you with her.”

Romano stands so quickly the bench rocks on its legs. He steps in front of me, his body tense as a pulled rope. “Trinidad, please—this isn’t the time or place,” he says, but his voice wavers slightly. “This is Gracia. Gracia, this is Trinidad de Vera—my… my fiancee.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath and sending cold shivers down my spine. Fiancee? In all our weeks together, he’d never mentioned anyone else—never spoke of promises made or bonds already tied. Trinidad’s eyes narrow as she looks me up and down, her gaze lingering on my simple cotton dress, then moving to my bare feet. There’s malice in her stare, sharp as the blade of a knife.

“I know your type,” she says to me, her voice cold as ice water poured over stone. “You drift into town with no family, no name worth mentioning, thinking you can charm any man with pretty words and a soft smile. You think you can come here and steal what’s mine. But Romano belongs to me—our families have arranged it since we were seven years old. His father owes mine three hectares of prime farmland, and our marriage will wipe that debt clean.” She takes a step closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’ll leave this town by sunset tomorrow, and you’ll never come back. If you don’t, there will be consequences. I have ways of making people disappear—ways that no one will ever question.”

She storms off, her silk dress swishing as she pushes through the crowd, leaving a trail of whispered gossip in her wake. Romano turns to me, and I see tears welling in his warm brown eyes—tears of pain and frustration. “I never wanted this, Gracia. I’ve tried to tell my parents a dozen times that I can’t marry her—that my heart belongs to someone else. But they say our family will lose everything if I refuse. The land, the house, even our name—we’ll be cast out onto the streets. I love you—I only love you. I swear it on my mother’s grave.”

I reach out and touch his cheek, my fingers trembling. I want to hold him, to tell him we’ll find a way to break free from these chains, but the fear in his eyes makes my chest ache. I’ve seen this kind of cruelty before, even in my own time—people who will destroy anything and anyone to protect what they believe is theirs. And I know, with a certainty that makes me sick, that Trinidad de Vera will stop at nothing to keep Romano for herself.