Echoes of 1842

To the rest of the world, Enzo was a billionaire who could own the place if he wanted to.

But in the world he shared with Inari?

He played a different game.

He was just a simple guy pretending to be a rank and file office worker, hiding his wealth out of fear that Inari would leave him or walk away if she ever discovered his true world.

To Inari, he was her universe.

Enzo was her safe haven, her breathing room, and her comfort zone after escaping the toxic corporate grind. He was the man with the softest smile... someone who, despite the humble life he presented, was willing to do anything just to protect her.

He was the man who promised to shield her from the ruthless realities of his wealth and power... and then, on that rainy afternoon, when a single car accident rewrote the timeline of Inari’s life.

A car accident.

Spinning headlights flashed across her eyes before everything dropped into black.

When Inari woke up, she was no longer in the cozy home she shared with Enzo. She was greeted by museum like surroundings of the year 1842.

She wasn’t Inari anymore.

She was Isabela, a young woman trapped inside a grand hacienda, locked in an arranged marriage she never wanted. She is destined to marry someone... her betrothed was Javier. A man who possessed the same face of her ex boyfriend, Jethro.

At first, she thought it was just a lucid dream or a hallucination brought on by the crash. But when she touched her face, felt the coarse of the baro’t saya, and heard the stomping of horse hooves and distant shouting outside the mansion, everything came rushing back, heavy enough to drown her in.

This was real.

And she was trapped in an era where women had to stay silent and bend to power and social status.

Yet, she wished it was just her ex’s face she had to deal with. Because the true horror wasn’t Javier.

It was Antonio.

He carried the exact same face, the same commanding voice, and the intensity of Enzo.

Antonio was ruthless and cold blooded, a shadow that threatened to tear away whatever was left of Isabela’s sanity. Every second spent with him was like stepping on glass with every move she make will quietly draining her soul.

She lived in a constant state of fear, drowning in a nightmare where the face of the man she loved in the modern world was attached to the soul of a tyrant whose obsessive devotion threatened to consume her. Antonio was dangerously in love with her, his affection felt like a cage, slowly draining her will to go on.

And then, just like that, everything broke...

The scent of old wood and the trauma of 1842 disappeared.

The only things welcoming her back were the beep of a hospital monitor and the soft drip of the fluids that was felt like a countdown.

She was back.

In the modern world.

Her body trembled uncontrollably as she found herself safely tucked back in the arms of Enzo. The man who had pretended to be poor just for her. The one man she believed brought nothing but pure kindness.

Enzo stood up, he looked terrified, his eyes filled with worry. He gently cupped Inari’s cheek, wiping away the tears streaming down her face.

“Hey, shh, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, baby. I’m right here...” Enzo whispered, his voice held a warmth she knew by heart. The exact same voice that had always calmed her down whenever she felt overwhelmed and stressed.

But the trauma ran far too deep.

As Inari stared into the face of the man holding her, something inside her broke silently.

She searched his face, trying… for even a flicker of the gentle office worker who used to make her tea and hold her close after a long, exhausting day.

She wanted so badly to hid her face against his neck, as if she was seeking shelter, to inhale the familiar scent of him. She pulled him close, her fingers digging into him until her knuckles turned white and to weep until all the coldness of 1842 was washed away.

Every muscle in her body screamed at her to let go, to melt into his warmth, to whisper his name as if it’s all she has left... just for a second... that the nightmare was truly over.

Instead, every breath choked in her chest.

His fingers, cupping her cheek with such tender, trembling concern, suddenly felt heavy. The soft curve of his lips as he murmured the soothing words began to distort in her vision, as if it was the same controlling and obsessive voice that had once trapped her in a beautiful nightmare.

She looked deep into his eyes... those dark, expressive eyes that used to be her sanctuary.

The warmth was gone.

For her, it felt like Enzo stopped speaking and slipped into the background.

Standing in his place, staring down at her was the man who had loved her to the point of destruction.

To her, wasn’t Enzo holding her.

It was Antonio.

________________________________________________________

Author’s Note 📝

I hope you’ll enjoy this journey as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Honestly, a piece of my heart is in this book, because some of the characters’ emotions are actually based on my own unspoken feelings.

Please be kind and gentle with your words, okay?

No judgments, please! ☺️❤️

Date Draft Started: April 27, 2026

Draft Finished: October 02, 2026

•••••

📢For the book series...

Love on Minimum Wage

Unraveling of 1842

This answers all your questions. 😬📚

⚠️Notice:

No part of this work may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the owner.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Happy reading, guys! ✨