Strings of Fate

Bids

Jason and I had been combing through the archives for hours, the musty smell of old books filling the air as we flipped through countless pages. The frustration was starting to gnaw at me—everything we found about Elias Strongbow was surface level. Respected nobleman. Deeply religious. Close ties to the Frasseiu family. None of it was new information. Nothing hinted at the deeper connection to the red string.

But then, Jason pulled a particularly thick, weathered book from a high shelf, its spine cracked and nearly falling apart. The title was barely legible: Frasseiu Lineage and Legends.

He thumbed through it carefully before pausing, frowning at something odd. "Hey, check this out."

I leaned over his shoulder and saw what he was pointing at—a section of the book's cover had been ripped open. It was subtle, as if it had been carefully slit, and inside the torn sleeve was a hidden photograph. Jason gently slid the photo out, revealing a black-and-white image of a man and a woman.

The man was unmistakably Elias Strongbow, standing tall and proud, his face serious as he posed with a stunningly beautiful blonde woman. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, her blue eyes bright even in the faded photo. She looked like she had just stepped out of a dream—eerily familiar in a way that made my skin crawl. Her resemblance to Ezra was undeniable, as if they shared some ancient lineage.

Jason turned the picture over, and there, in neat, elegant handwriting, was a message that made my stomach drop:

"My love, thank you for being the first in everything. The choices you have made have been for the best of humanity, and I promise everyone will soon know the true meaning of happiness."

My fingers trembled as I stared at the words, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. This wasn't just some family heirloom—this was personal. Intimate. The way Elias Strongbow had been praised in history was starting to take on a new, darker meaning. His choices had clearly shaped the world we lived in today, and the Frasseiu family knew it. They knew everything, and they had been keeping it hidden for generations.

"This is it," I whispered, unable to tear my eyes away from the message. Jason's expression darkened as he took the photo back, sliding it carefully into his jacket.

My jaw clenched. "We need to get into his house-Ezras. Whatever they're hiding, we'll find it there."

Jason nodded, his mind already working through the logistics. "The Frasseiu family's having a ball next month. We can get in there, blend with the crowd, and look for anything that might help."

I took a deep breath, determination building inside me. "And Ezra... he's not going to like this, he doesn't want his family finding out about me"

Jason gave me a sharp nod, his eyes narrowing in focus. "We're going to get into that ball. And once we're inside, we'll find out exactly what they've been hiding for centuries."

As we packed up the archives, I couldn't shake the image of that woman from the photograph—the way she looked so much like Ezra. The Frasseiu family knew something that could change everything, and I was determined to find out what. Even if it meant walking straight into their den.

______________

The night of the art gallery arrived with a cool breeze, the kind that sent a shiver down your spine even before the tension had a chance to. I stood in front of my full-length mirror, staring at my reflection, trying to will the anxiety from my chest. My fingers fidgeted with the fabric of my black silk dress, smoothing it down even though it was already perfect.

The dress was simple but elegant, with a plunging neckline and thin straps that crisscrossed over my back. The hem fell just above my ankles, the fabric catching the light and shimmering subtly with each movement. I chose it because it was understated yet sophisticated—perfect for blending into the high-society event without drawing too much attention. My dark hair was pinned up in a loose, messy bun, leaving a few strands to frame my face.