Novels by Ij Gabriel

POV: Amelia“You keep looking at me like that,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep, “and I’m going to forget we’re supposed to take it slow.”I didn’t answer. I just smiled and trailed my fingers lower under the sheets, past the curve of his stomach, until I felt him—already half-hard, already responding to just my touch.Ethan inhaled sharply, his arm tightening around my waist.“Morning,” I whispered.“Best one yet,” he said, voice gravel and heat.I shifted onto my side so I could look at him fully. The sunlight cut across his chest in soft lines, making everything golden and impossibly tender. But when I slid my leg over his and pressed against him, what lit between us wasn’t soft.It was fire.His hand slid down to my thigh, gripping it as I rocked against him slowly. I kissed him then—deep, lazy, indulgent. Not like we were in a hurry. Like we had all morning. Like we’d earned this.Because we had.He pulled me on top of him, his hands firm on my hips, and I didn’t hesita

POV: AmeliaI didn’t wait for him.The second the music swelled and Sienna draped herself across him like a memory refusing to die, I slipped out from the marble halls like a ghost. I didn’t say goodbye. I didn’t need to. If he had looked hard enough, he would’ve seen the truth in my eyes.My heart pounded as I pushed through the corridor of glittering strangers and exited the villa’s garden. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses faded behind me, replaced by the echo of my footsteps on cold stone. Each step was a scream I couldn’t voice.By the time I reached the hallway of our suite, I’d kicked off my shoes. The champagne had soaked through the suede, and they squished with every step. I let them go. Left them behind like the part of me that had smiled when he whispered “just one more night.”Inside, everything was too quiet.The villa’s suite was draped in muted golds and thick cream curtains, soft light glowing from lamps he’d turned on before we left. My reflection followed me

POV: Amelia The garden looked like something out of a dream—moonlight spilling across marble floors, paper lanterns strung through olive trees, casting soft golden halos over clusters of Italy’s most elite. There were fountains that whispered as they trickled and tables dressed in champagne-colored silk, the kind of place that made one forget reality and lean into something more dangerous—like illusions.Amelia descended the stone steps slowly, her pearl-gray dress clinging like a second skin, elegant but quiet, unlike the glimmering gowns that brushed against the marble around her. She wore no necklace, just pearl drop earrings and a flick of silver at her eyes. Understated, but Ethan had called her devastating.He’d kissed her hand just before they entered, his voice low and sure, like it belonged in her bones.“Just one more night,” he whispered, the pad of his thumb stroking her knuckles, “and we vanish again.”She had smiled, leaned in, and kissed the edge of his jaw, as if seal

Ethan’s POV“Try to keep up, sweetheart,” I called over my shoulder, laughing as I climbed the narrow stone steps that led into the twisting hills of Positano, the sun already warming the back of my neck.Behind me, I heard Amelia groan dramatically, “You’re really using that cane for sympathy now, aren’t you?”I glanced back at her, grinning, “What can I say, it’s my secret weapon. Makes people underestimate me.”She rolled her eyes, her ponytail bouncing as she climbed a few steps to catch up with me, her hand brushing my lower back, “You’re not allowed to look this smug and this hot at the same time. It’s illegal.”I leaned slightly on the cane, but I didn’t slow down, not when the breeze felt this good and the narrow trail led us deeper into the blooming side of the cliffs, where lemon trees overhung the path and old stucco walls were painted shades of burnt coral and gold. This wasn’t the kind of walking I used to do, but it was the kind I chose to do now, with her.“You’re not s

Amelia’s POV“You packed sunscreen, right?” Ethan asked, smirking as he leaned against the open glass doors, one hand on his cane, the other balancing a pair of sunglasses on his head.I was already in my bikini, tying the wrap around my waist, and I shot him a look over my shoulder, “I’m not the one who burns like toast after ten minutes in the sun, Steele.”He grinned, slow and crooked, and walked over to me, his limp barely noticeable now, “Fair warning, if you slather it on me like last time, I might make some very inappropriate sounds.”“I count on it,” I murmured, standing up fully, brushing past him just close enough to graze his chest, “That’s the only reason I agreed to this yacht trip.”“Not for the view?” he teased.“Oh, I’ll get my view,” I said, looking him up and down as he grabbed his linen shirt, still unbuttoned over his swim trunks, muscles flexing just enough to remind me that therapy had taken a back seat to other kinds of physical activity lately, “I get it every

Amelia’s POVI couldn’t sleep.Ethan had held me close after the gala, his arms warm and steady around me, but the moment his breathing shifted—slightly heavier, no longer synced with mine—I opened my eyes.Something was off.It was in the way he kept checking his phone even when he thought I wasn’t looking. The way his grip had been tender, but distracted. His kiss deep, but not all the way there. Not the way it usually was. Not the way it had been earlier, when I’d spoken Italian and watched his whole world tilt in my direction.I told myself I was being paranoid. I told myself this wasn’t one of those stories—where the rich man got distracted, and the woman in his bed stopped being enough.But sometimes the gut just knows.And mine was twisting like a storm was coming.I lay there for a while, watching his face in the soft light spilling from the hallway. Then, around 3 AM, I felt him shift.He thought I was asleep.He slipped out of bed, pulled on pants and a shirt, and left the s

I was drowning.The cold grasp of the river had already seized me, the currents pulling me deeper in its endless dark, my limbs no longer responding to my frantic calls. My body was numb, lungs screaming for air that would not come.Then out of nowhere I heard it. His voice."Selene, are you trying to drown on purpose, or do you just attract disaster wherever you go?"A warm voice cut through the freezing current wrapping around me, and I forced my eyes open, coughing, struggling to keep my head above the water.There he was: Frey Storm-his silhouette cutting a sharp contrast against gray clouds above, a wicked, amused smile curling at his lips."Frey?" My voice came out hoarse, disbelief threading through every syllable. I wanted to say something sharper; to act like I wasn't clinging desperately to the rocky bank, but every ounce of strength had bled out of me. I was barely managing to keep my grip, much less hold my pride together."What's it going to be?" he called down, the teas

"Rafe, plea… My voice cracked, little more than a whisper above the roar of the water rushing past my ears.I was slipping, my fingers digging desperately into the rocks jutting out from the riverbank, but they were slick, the current ripping me away inch by inch. The cold had found its way into my body was was nowdeep into my bones, numbing my body.Only Rafe's hand, his eyes locked to mine, kept me tethered to the surface. I held on, his grip tight at first, strong.Then his gaze shifted, his jaw clenching as he looked over his shoulder, beyond me."Rafe?" My voice shook, and a tremble of panic slid into it.He hesitated, his eyes darting left and right and his ears perked up.I followed his gaze out, catching a scent on the air that made my stomach twist-the scent of the pack. They were coming, their voices carrying through the trees, growing louder. If they found us like this, with Rafe helping me, an exile, someone who was supposed to be miles away from their territory, it woul

“Secrets… they always come back to haunt you."The words twisted in my head like a jackknife, jolting me as Frey's eyes held hostage. It was as if his gaze was burrowing straight through me, and it made me suddenly feel self conscious.His jaw clenched, his lips mashed into a firm line, as if he were about to let fall some life-altering bomb. Then, in a flash, the mask fell back into place. Frey shut down again."I know enough," he murmured, voice low and unsettling. "But maybe you're not ready to hear it."I bristled. "You don't get to decide what I'm ready for, Frey.He gave a wry smile, more mocking than warm. "Perhaps not. But trust me, there are some things you can't unknow. Things that'll alter the way you look at this world. and everyone in it."I took a shaky breath, willing myself not to flinch. "Cut the riddles, Frey. If there's something I should know, then *tell me*.He held my stare, and for that flash of a moment, something unguarded flickered in his eyes, vulnerability

I just couldn't let go the feeling.The anklet was hidden so well, and it was as though it had been waiting there for me to discover it.My mother's anklet—she had it on every waking and sleeping day of her life.I could still remember the soft jingle of it when she moved-a quiet reminder of her presence. It was as if some part of her had been left with it, buried in this place.And now, it was in my hands.That moment I found it, I knew my parents didn't die ordinary deaths. I knew I could see things from dreams; it was another power I'd inherited from my mother.Which was why I wanted to know about the man I'd seen in my dream. But how to find him?I hadn't even seen his face.But why would they have her anklet? What were they hiding?I didn't even want to think that they, perhaps, have been buried. Without me.I stared at the glittering curves of the anklet, my fingers following the delicate patterns; the more I thought, however, the more questions arose.Regrettably, there were no

“Are you well rested?” The birds chirped with careless abandon as I stepped out of the cabin. Frey was standing a few feet away, staring up at me with a smirk on his face.I turned away from him, dragging my eyes to the scenery at the elft side of the cabin. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate, on the sounds of the forest.Behind me, Frey cleared his throat, and I heard the floorboards creak as he stepped closer to me.The smell of fresh air and the sound of water rushing through stones, filled my ears. This was one gift of mine that I appreciated, my ability to hear things from afar.I honed in on the sounds: rustling leaves, chirping birds, and that faraway hum of life within the forest. It was peaceful here, or at least it should have been.I felt Frey's presence behind me, but I didn't turn around and acknowledge him. He'd made it his mission to get under my skin, and today wasn't going to be the day I gave him the satisfaction. "I didn't ask," I muttered, not looking at h

The growl sent a chill down my spine, and I pressed myself against the wall, seeking some form of shelter. I was taut with fear, and my hands began to shake.My pulse thundered in my ears, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the glowing eyes that stood at the window. This was no ordinary wolf. It’s presence felt different, more menacing, and very powerful.My breath hitched as I reached for the small hunting knife that my grandmother always kept under the bed. There was no guarantee that it was still there, since grandma had died two years ago.Thankfully, it was still there. My fingers fumbled around blindly, and then I pulled it free from the leather sheath. In my state, I could not fight, and if I tried, I would probably die from the effort.My wolf was gone, and I was prone to attacks now. I was the wolfless girl, and a target for dangerous rogue wolves. For a moment, I thought about stepping out and surrendering myself to being torn into bits and pieces by the rogue wolf, but t

The walls were white, too white, and the sheets felt foreign. Naya woke gasping.She sat up abruptly in the soft guest bed, one hand gripping the duvet like it might anchor her back to reality. Her heart pounded in her chest, her skin clammy beneath the oversized T-shirt she didn’t remember putting on. The dream still clung to her—the echo of Daniel’s laughter, Chloe’s syrupy voice dripping venom behind glass.You're the joke, Naya.She pressed her palms into her eyes. No prison bars. No Daniel. No Chloe.Just her. And the soft hum of air conditioning.She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, taking a moment to breathe. Adrian had brought her here after the crash. She remembered the warmth of his hands, the low rasp of his voice telling her to breathe, the way his arms had wrapped around her like armor.Why the hell did that comfort her?Naya padded barefoot down the hallway. It was dark except for the glow spilling from the living room.He was there.Adrian sat at a long wooden d

“You’re not coming.”Adrian’s voice was calm, controlled—one of those low, even tones that cloaked arrogance like silk. He straightened his cufflinks as if the matter were already settled, his eyes flicking to her in the mirror like she was nothing more than a reflection to manage.Naya stood still, arms crossed over the dress she didn’t pick to be dismissed in. It hugged her like defiance—sleek, sharp, dark. Her hair was pulled high and tight, lips a soft nude, emerald earrings glinting like quiet rebellion.She looked like a woman ready for war. Not the one who’d cried behind bars forty-eight hours ago.“That’s adorable,” she said flatly, stepping into the room without waiting to be invited. “Try telling me again.”Adrian turned. “This is a closed-room meeting. High-level. The DA, the judge, media advisors. It’s not a show trial yet.”She took one step forward. “Then they’ll need a reminder I’m not a ghost.”Her voice cut clean through the space between them.“This is my life, Adria

"Are you sure about this?" Naya's voice was shaking, her eyes flicking nervously around the room. She clutched the edge of her chair, as if the sterile office walls were closing in on her.How had her life degenerated into this in the twinkling of an eye?Adrian leaned back in his seat, smiling at her with his piercing blue eyes."I've never been more certain about anything, Naya. You need protection, and I can provide it. But you have to trust me.”Trust…The word reverberated in her mind with a bad aftertaste in her mouth. It was the last thing she could afford after all that had happened.How cold she trust this dazzling man with a charming smile after everything with her husband and her bestriend?Naya pressed her lips together, and inhaled deeply, forcing herself to push those thoughts away.“But first you need to be brutally honest with me. I need to know everything if I'm to help you win this case.” Adrian's sultry voice cut into her thoughts.“Asking me to trust you is goin

“How does it feel, Naya? How does it feel to have everything crumble at your feet?”Chloe asked her in the cold sterile police interrogation room as Naya sat in the chair, handcuffs over her wrists. She was shaking with so much rage that it was hard to see. All Naya saw was red.Since her arrest after the birthday party, Naya had not been able to eat, sleep or drink. She was still in shock, nothing felt real,but each time she looked at her wrist she realized it was real.“You can’t do this to me Chloe. Talk to Daniel. Hasn’t he hurt me enough?” Chloe arched an eyebrow. “Hurt you enough?’ Chloe laughed harshly. “If anyone’s been hurt in all this, it’s me. I’m the one that has watched you and Daniel for years, while my heart broke into two.”“I don;t care about you and Daniel, all I care about is clearing my name. All I want is for you to tell the truth. You know I didn’t steal anything, stop supporting Daniel.” She didn’t know when she started to yell.Daniel came in then, followed by

Naya stood in front of the mirror in the guest bathroom, trying to get herself together.Daniel’s words pricked her skin each time she remembered them. When had her marriage gone to shambles? She asked herself, as she touched her face, wiping away the last traces of tears.Naya touched up her makeup, smoothened down the creases in her dress, and amended her hair. She’d organized this party and it was mandatory for her to be there. Naya slipped out of the bathroom and made her way downstairs, the sound of music filling the air as she entered the living room. She searched subtly for Daniel, but he was nowhere to be found. She to everyone who greeted her, and complimented her, but everytime someone told her she was a wonderful wife, she thought about the divorce papers, and the fact that someone else was pregnant for him.Then she caught sight of her best friend, Chloe, standing outside the house, near the patio behind the bushes. It was a hidden spot, but from Naya's position, she cou

Naya was shocked.She flipped through the file again, trying to make sure that she was not seeing things. Then she began to tremble.“Naya?!! Where are you?” Naya flipped the papers shut and returned them to the table, then she ran back to the study’s door just as Daniel’s mother was about to open it.“Naya? Why are you up here? The party needs you downstairs. Everything is a mess.” She eyed Naya.Naya and Daniel’s mother did not get along. To her, Naya was a bad daughter in law, who knew nothing. She didn't like Naya because she was not the sophisticated and rich daughter in law she’d been hoping for. And she was still not pregnant after four years.“Are you dumb? Why are you here when we have company? You threw this party didn't you?” She widened her eyes and cocked her head to the side, waiting for Naya’s response.“Yes.” Naya mumbled respectfully. The dislike was mutual.“Then maybe you should pay more attention to it, instead of hiding away. We have a reputation to uphold in thi

I did not open the e-mail.Not that night. Nor the next morning. Not even after reconsidering the subject line—We have to discuss something.Landon needed a lot of things. Closure. Forgiveness. Maybe a soul.I did not intend to provide anything else.I opened up a browser and typed in two words that I had forgotten: personal reinvention.The salon smelled of citrus and hairspray. I sat beneath the harsh glow of vanity lights while a stranger studied my face like a canvas she’d been aching to paint."So," she said, taking her gloves off, "what are we going to do today?"I looked at my reflection—flat, lifeless brown hair, cheeks still pale from the hospital, lips pressed into a firm, unsmiling line.I pressed the glass gently. "We're deleting her."She raised one impeccably arched eyebrow. "Erasing?""She is too soft. She forgives people who don't deserve forgiveness. She stays quiet when she should be speaking out."The stylist smiled mischievously. "Oh, I see. We’re making a monster.

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and shattered hopes.It felt odd entering through the doorway again—this time without cane to lean on or hand to cling to. I went in without support, shoulders squared, sunglasses shielding still-sensitive eyes. It was all sharper. Brighter. As if waiting for me to awaken.Dr. Knox's office was located at the far end of the hall. The receptionist double-taked when she noticed me."Elara?" she spoke softly, nearly whispering. "You"Such as one who is seeing for the first time?" I suggested, tilting the brim of my spectacles with a half-smile.She pasted on a smile. "Dr. Knox is expecting you. Go right on in."I knocked, then went in.Dr. Knox looked up from her tablet. "There she is." She stood up from her seat, approaching me with a smile. "Let me take a look at you."I removed the sunglasses, and we sat there staring at one another for some time. Her eyes searched me intensely."Tracking is fine. Any pressure sensations? Flashes of light? Headache?"

The sunbeam warmed my skin as I walked through the glass doors of the hospital. It should have been like starting over, like having a miracle set before me. But instead, I walked as if I had entered right in the eye of the storm.Mark was leaning against the car in a relaxed pose, arms crossed, sunglasses on the nose as always. He stood up straight when he saw me. "Miss Matthews," he said, opening the back door as though nothing had changed.I hesitated. “Please, don’t call Landon.”His brow furrowed. “Ma’am?”I adjusted the straps on my bag. “Don’t tell him I’m out. Not yet.”His lips had begun to open as if he were about to ask something, but an abrupt tension in my posture restrained him."I comprehend," he finally said.I nodded and moved over into the back seat. "I have to go to the family guesthouse, not the penthouse,""One in Rosehill?" he asked, briefly glancing over his shoulder in my direction."Indeed, serene. I yearn for such calmness."Mark declined to take the issue fur

Something seemed amiss.I blinked twice, then again, slowly. The pain in the back of my eyes burned, yet it was subdued—muted. The world wasn't black. It was something else. Liquid light nudged the edges of my vision, like the first hint of day through mist."Elara?" There came a voice through the mist. Filling. Warm.I shifted my head slightly, and the motion had the sensation of pulling my skull through sandpaper."Elara, do you hear me?" The voice came closer—Dr. Knox.I had a dry mouth, though I could muster a rasp. "I can hear you."A sigh of relief. "Well. That's fine. You certainly scared us enough with your post-op experience.""Did. did it work?" My voice cracked, though I barely noticed. My fingertips hurt on the rough surface of the hospital bed.There existed a pause. I could feel it before she went on.You tell me.I wrenched them open as far as I could. Light blinded me: searing, brilliant, intruding, yes. Light. No dark outlines dancing in the dark. No hues. Burning, re

The bathroom floor was cold.I laid on the cold bathroom floor, every inch of my body screaming in pain. My head was in a war zone, But the worst part? The silence. It was suffocating, like the air itself had turned heavy and still. I tried to sit up, but my limbs felt like lead. Then, a strange pressure pressed down upon my eyelids, the feeling of being sucked into some kind of dark, open space. My hand flew to my face, fingers shaking. Wet. Sticky.Blood.It trickled into my fingers, a slow tide that felt heavy and suffocating. Panic clawed at me, I tried to open my eyes, but it was useless. The effort itself was painful, and the outlines I once could see were gone.I could only see pitch darkness.My right eye, burned like fire, the pain so strong it sent my whole body tumbling back down when I tried again to stand up.I can't see.It hit my brain like a streak of lightning, and I felt breathless, frozen in fear. The bathroom swayed to a tilt, and it was as if the world had

It didn't stop.I pressed my ear to the bathroom door, and a hand to my mouth to keep my whimpering silent.Landon didn't stop cheating on me. Now, as I listened to his hearty laughter and the ‘pit pat’ of the water as it hit the ground, I wondered how I had not noticed it.“I miss you, baby…” I heard him say, and I took a step back. I didn't want to hear anymore.I'd stepped backward, and the world blurred for a second before coming back into harsh focus.My brain was screaming at me to run and to just pretend I hadn't heard any of it. “So do you need me right now? I could…”Another trembling step back from the bathroom door, every word from his mouth made it harder to breathe. This was not the Landon I knew. The more I listened, the more I felt like I wasn't even real.Like this all wasn't real.He laughed-a rich sound with that same flow that once drew me to him like a moth to a flame. Now it was all wrong-twisted. It showed me something that I had been too blind to see, too bl