Novels by Gafa author

The wedding cheers still echoed through the hall as Leviana and Marceline took a deep breath in the corner of the room. “This is our chance,” Leviana whispered, her eyes fixed on Arga and Deviana, who were still smiling at the stage.Marceline nodded, opening a tablet displaying a list of VIP guests and media. “We’ll create a scandal in front of them all. Cameras ready, reporters prepared. This time, there’s no way for them to escape,” she said, her eyes shining as she looked at Leviana.Meanwhile, Deviana and Arga were chatting with family and guests, laughing lightly. Deviana glanced around, feeling relieved to see everyone enjoying the moment. “Arga, I’m glad everything has gone smoothly so far,” she whispered.Arga looked at her with confidence. “And it will stay that way. Don’t worry, Deviana. We focus on us, not them.”Unbeknownst to them, Leviana had positioned several freelance reporters disguised as guests to record every move. Marceline held a phone button linked to a small

The wedding cheers still echoed through the hall as Leviana and Marceline took a deep breath in the corner of the room. “This is our chance,” Leviana whispered, her eyes fixed on Arga and Deviana, who were still smiling at the stage.Marceline nodded, opening a tablet displaying a list of VIP guests and media. “We’ll create a scandal in front of them all. Cameras ready, reporters prepared. This time, there’s no way for them to escape,” she said, her eyes shining as she looked at Leviana.Meanwhile, Deviana and Arga were chatting with family and guests, laughing lightly. Deviana glanced around, feeling relieved to see everyone enjoying the moment. “Arga, I’m glad everything has gone smoothly so far,” she whispered.Arga looked at her with confidence. “And it will stay that way. Don’t worry, Deviana. We focus on us, not them.”Unbeknownst to them, Leviana had positioned several freelance reporters disguised as guests to record every move. Marceline held a phone button linked to a small

Guests began cheering as Deviana and Arga walked down the aisle toward the stage, but from behind the decorations and corners of the room, Leviana and Marceline were watching with a new plan. Leviana’s eyes locked on Arga from a distance, her lips curling into a thin smile. “This time, we’ll lure them in front of everyone,” she murmured.Marceline nodded, holding a tablet displaying several reporters and freelance photographers. “We need footage that looks real, something that makes everyone question Deviana and Arga’s relationship,” she said.Meanwhile, Deviana suddenly felt a surge of tension. “Arga, I feel like they’re planning something,” she whispered, scanning the room.Arga held her hand, looking into her eyes firmly. “I know. But we have to stay calm. Don’t give them a chance.”Leviana moved swiftly, positioning a hired photographer near a guest table. With a subtle motion, the photographer captured Deviana and Arga as if they were being overly intimate among other guests, the

The wedding hall was filled with guests, crystal chandeliers reflecting warm light across the room. Deviana walked beside Arga, both dressed elegantly, her face still tense though she tried to smile.“Are you sure everything is ready, Arga?” Deviana asked softly, her eyes scanning the guests who were starting to arrive.“Everything is arranged. We just need to enjoy this moment,” Arga replied, holding Deviana’s hand to reassure her.Meanwhile, behind the entrance, Leviana and Marceline monitored the crowd through tablets. They watched the guests’ faces, counting who could be used as pawns. Leviana smirked slyly. “It’s time to create a little surprise. Let’s start with the guest closest to the media. Let’s see their reaction.”Marceline nodded. “Every camera we set up will capture the commotion. Everything will look like Deviana’s fault. She won’t know what hit her.”Elsewhere, a freelance photographer separated from the crowd, capturing shots of Deviana and Arga’s anxious expressions,

Deviana and Arga were walking down the corridors of the venue, inspecting every corner of the wedding preparations. Deviana’s eyes scanned the surroundings warily, aware that Leviana and Marceline’s spies might be watching from afar.“Arga, see? Every corner is neat. But I feel something’s wrong,” Deviana said, gripping the back of a chair, her eyes following everyone who passed by.Arga turned, squinting. “Who are you suspicious of now?”“Something’s off. I’m certain Leviana and Marceline are planning to ruin our moment. Just look—some of the guests they sent seem way too curious,” Deviana replied, her tone firm but low.Suddenly, a woman with a small camera approached, smiling sweetly. “Excuse me, may I take some photos of the preparations?”Deviana stared sharply. “Who sent you? Which media are you from?”The woman hesitated for a moment, smiling. “Oh, just an invitation from a guest. Nothing specific. I just want to capture some fun moments,” she said, beginning to take photos, bu

Deviana stood in the middle of the wedding hall, which was gradually filling with guests, her face still slightly tense after the chaos with the decorations and catering. She held Arga’s hand, trying both to calm herself and to soothe the anxious man beside her.“Arga, take a deep breath. Everything will be fine. I’ve made sure everything is back in order,” Deviana said, gently patting his shoulder.Arga glanced around, his eyes revealing lingering doubts. “I hope you’re right, Deviana. I just… I’m afraid something might happen again before this wedding.”Deviana gave a faint smile, but her eyes sharply scanned a few guests who had begun whispering. Some were taking photos, while others focused on the catering tables that had briefly been in disarray. She knew gossip could start spreading from here.Meanwhile, some invited influencers and journalists began noting every detail for their coverage. One influencer photographed a slightly crooked flower arrangement, highlighting Arga’s ten

That morning in Paris, the sky was a pale blue. The sunlight filtered through the windows of Evelyn’s new gallery, softly reflecting off the glass walls and light gray marble. The sound of footsteps echoed quietly through the rooms, now filled with works of art, most of them centered around the theme of "the journey home"—to oneself, to hope, to the courage to love.Evelyn stood in the center of the main exhibition hall. A simple white dress wrapped her body, her hair casually pinned up. She stared at one of the large pieces she had titled "The Step Home", an abstract painting of textures made from layers of earth, water, and fragments of dark blue that evaporated into light."Why has your work become softer lately?" a voice came from behind.Evelyn turned and smiled. William stood there, wearing a light gray suit and a thin scarf around his neck."Because I've finally stopped painting from the wounds," Evelyn replied quietly. "I’ve started painting from peace."William walked closer

"This chair is still about to break," William muttered, tapping the creaky wooden armrest.Evelyn chuckled softly, sitting beside him on the balcony of their old apartment, now empty. The only light came from the moon filtering through the open curtains, casting a gentle glow on the dusty floor and peeling walls."I always loved sitting here," Evelyn said as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the wind gently brushing past them. "Back then, whenever the world felt too heavy, this balcony became our quiet escape."William glanced at her."And sometimes the place where we argued too.""Especially when you claimed your espresso was better than my tea," Evelyn replied with a teasing smile.The Parisian night air was soft, carrying the scent of recent rain. In the distance, the city traffic hummed like a lullaby. Above them, a rare spread of stars glimmered faintly—seldom seen in the city, but tonight it felt as if the universe itself had made room.The apartment was being cl

"Are you sure you want to use this color?" Evelyn pointed at the half-finished painting displayed in the center of the gallery. Faded blue and muted gold stood out among the otherwise warm palette.William, holding a brush, turned and raised an eyebrow."Blue is the wound. Gold is the healing. We're talking about reconstruction, aren’t we? We have to be brave enough to place the wound at the center."Evelyn paused for a moment, then nodded."You're right. You’ve finally learned art well."William gave a crooked smile."I learned from the best."They were inside a contemporary art hall on the outskirts of Paris, the venue for a charity exhibition titled “Reconstruction and Forgiveness.” The event was initiated by an international art foundation to raise funds for a floating gallery for victims of natural disasters. Evelyn had been appointed as creative director—and, surprisingly, she suggested William’s name as co-curator.Though many were shocked by their collaboration, no one could d

"I want you to hear this not as someone who loves me, but as someone I once hurt," Evelyn said quietly, her eyes fixed on the cup of tea cooling in front of her.They were sitting in a small garden behind the gallery where they'd spent the afternoon. The Paris air was overcast but warm, as if the city itself understood that this conversation wasn’t an ordinary one. Sparrows flew low between the trees, and the wind carried whispers that sounded almost like prayers.William simply nodded, giving space. No pressure. No interruptions."I once chose to walk away... not because I didn’t love you. But because I thought loving meant letting go," Evelyn continued, her raspy voice nearly swallowed by the breeze. "And when Haruki came along, I didn’t know whether I was trying to heal… or just erase your traces."William watched her silently. There was no anger, only a sadness long settled—like ripples on a lake long after the stone has sunk."I’ll never forgive myself for letting Haruki get so c

"You're still walking too fast," William muttered, half-jogging to catch up with Evelyn along the narrow sidewalk.Evelyn turned her head, half-smiling. "You were the one who invited me, and now you're falling behind."The Parisian sky that afternoon was gray but dry. A cool breeze slipped through the falling leaves. They stopped in front of an old building with large windows and a classic wooden door.Evelyn paused, her gaze falling on the small sign above the door: Galerie Lumière."This place..." she whispered, the words catching on a memory that pressed sharply against her chest.William nodded. "My first exhibition. And… the first time I realized that art means nothing if I can't share it with someone."Evelyn stepped inside slowly. The gallery was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of shoes against wooden floors and the glow of warm hanging lights.There were no visitors. William had arranged for a private viewing, just for the two of them.On the walls hung photos from yea

“The direction to the exhibition earlier… we passed this street, right?”William’s voice held a trace of uncertainty as they walked along a narrow cobblestone path on the outskirts of Paris. The rain was light, not heavy, but enough to overwhelm Evelyn’s small umbrella as droplets began to slip through her hair and the edge of her jacket.Evelyn sighed, glancing around. No taxis. No phone signal.“We’re… lost, aren’t we?” she asked calmly, though her tone carried a hint of tired laughter.William turned to her and chuckled. “Lost—in the most literal and cinematic sense.”The rain fell harder. The narrow street shimmered, and the old hanging lamps between buildings cast shadows that made the scene feel like a noir film—unscripted, moody, real.Evelyn moved closer, trying to fit under William’s umbrella as hers had already been ruined by the wind.“Do you still wander aimlessly like this?” she asked, eyes on the wet stones beneath their feet.William took a beat before replying, “No. Th