Novels by Author Favy

The hospital smelled like new beginnings and disinfectant.Outside, snowflakes danced against the window, soft and silent, just like the night Ryans proposed to me. The clock on the wall ticked lazily past midnight, but time didn’t matter anymore.What mattered was the tiny heartbeat echoing faintly through the room.And Ryans’ hand, gripping mine like he was the one about to push a whole human into the world.“Breathe, Sky,” the nurse said gently.“Tell him that,” I groaned through a contraction, shooting Ryans a glare.He flinched, eyes wide, hair messy like he’d wrestled a bear on the way here. “I am breathing!”“Not enough!” I hissed.The nurse laughed softly. “You’re doing great, honey. Just one more push.”That phrase — just one more push — felt like a cosmic joke. I’d been pushing for what felt like seven years.But then, the room shifted. The air thickened with something raw and holy.And a cry — sharp and perfect — split the quiet.My breath hitched.The doctor smiled, holdin

One year later.Boston always smells like promise and coffee.Always. A year after graduation and it was what I kept thinking about today. From the floor-to-ceiling window of our apartment, I can see the sky dusted in gold, the Charles River glinting like it’s showing off. Somewhere below, someone’s playing a saxophone, the kind that sounds both lonely and beautiful.The apartment I was in right now with Ryan's wasn’t fancy. It’s warm. Lived in. There’s paint on the walls from my late-night creative bursts, and hockey gear in places it absolutely shouldn’t be… like beside the shoe rack for instance. It was home for the both of us. “Sky,” Ryans called from the kitchen. “Have you seen my tie?”“Check the microwave,” I replied without looking up from my sketchpad.He poked his head out from behind the counter, grinning. “Please tell me that’s a joke.”“Depends,” I said, doodling the last line of a curve. “Did you check the bathroom mirror first?”He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re

Peace feels strange at first.Like learning how to breathe after you’ve forgotten what air tastes like.After everything that had happened — the breakup, the truth about our fathers, the chaos and peace of the championship, Coach Donovan’s sickness—I kept expecting something else to fall apart.But nothing did.Ryans and I fell into something steady, quiet, and terrifyingly beautiful.Mornings meant coffee and his hoodie draped over my shoulders as he teased me about the paint on my fingers while I painted. Afternoons meant me sketching designs on the floor of his dorm while he paced, muttering about strategies for next season. That if he was not reading.And nights… nights meant peace. Not the loud, desperate kind. It was the simple, wordless kind that comes when you’re beside someone who knows your silences.Sometimes I’d catch him watching me when he thought I wasn’t looking — a small smile tugging at his lips, as though he couldn’t quite believe I was real…that we were true. It w

The rink was silent again.No crowd. No flashbulbs. No chants.Just the faint hum of the overhead lights and the echo of my own footsteps against the ice as I walked on the rink. My skates dangled from one hand, blades clinking softly like chimes. I’d told the team I’d lock up tonight, though what I really wanted was to stand in this place — this temple of noise now hushed — and remember what winning had felt like.Funny thing about victory was that it’s loud in the moment but afterward, it leaves you hollow.Especially when you don’t have the one person you want to share it with.The ice glowed faintly under the arena lights and felt like a vast mirror that reflected my solitude. I took a few steps forward even as I inhaled the smell of cold metal and disinfectant that was thick in the air. My throat tightened, the weight of everything — Coach’s illness, Skylar, the endless noise, the ache in my chest — pressing down on me again.I had won only hours ago and yet, my heart was still

The days leading up to the championship game blurred together and were an endless loop of cold rinks, early mornings, late nights, and the persistent pounding rhythm of skates against ice.And pain. Of course, pain. Every morning, I woke before sunrise. The arena would still be empty, dim light spilling through the high glass panels as I stepped onto the frozen surface. The world was quiet there and so it was usually just me, my reflection, and the echo of my blades slicing through the silence.It should’ve been peaceful. But it wasn’t.Because every stroke, every breath, every ounce of sweat reminded me of her.Skylar.Even her name…even thinking of it burned my soul. She hadn’t answered my calls no matter how many I sent. Not my messages. Not a single voicemail in days. Not since that day at the rink when she looked at me like I was something she couldn’t bear to love anymore and whispered the words that broke my world in half—> “We can’t be together. We’re siblings.”Those words

The rink didn’t feel like home anymore these days. Not at all. Rather, it felt heavy with frustrations. Too many mistakes and the sound of blades scraping ice were more from irritation than rhythm.It had been one week since everything fell apart — since Skylar walked away from me with that look in her eyes that I still saw every time I blinked. Since Coach Donovan’s diagnosis. Since the team started falling apart like a badly built house.Now the championship was less than two weeks away, and the once-synchronized sound of our skates had turned into chaos. Missed passes. Poor timing. Arguments flaring for no damn reason.I was sure Caleb and his team were going to have a good laugh at us at the championship if we were to continue this way. Reports reaching us said that they were preparing really hard and really good for the championship.Damn it. “Fuck!” Liam said as he slammed his stick against the wall after missing yet another shot. “What’s the point, Ry? We’re dead out there!

Chapter Seventy-TwoIsla's POV"I'm sorry you have to go through all that. Somehow, I blame myself brought for suggesting that you run away or you wouldn't have been caught in the crossfire with my brother. I apologize for everything he did, and all the troubles that he put you through. I hope you find peace, and time to heal, Isla."I smiled at Lucia's words. I thought she would blame me for the death of her brother, but she was actually grateful. It turns out she has been planning to kill him herself. Ever since she let me escape, and knew Damian was planning to bring me back, she knew her brother was getting out of control, and she wasn't wrong. I am glad that all this is over. I just wished it could have gone some other way then I wouldn't have lost a lot of people that I cared about."I think this is the first time you are ever calling my name. It feels weird," I said. "What about the Russo business? What is going to happen to it since Damian is no longer alive? Are you going to

Chapter Seventy-OneIsla's POV"Promise me that whatever happens, you would stay in this car, you wouldn't get out. I'm going in to get our daughter. Don't open the car to anyone, and only use the gun if there is a need for it," Mateo instructed. He moved to get down from the car, but I held him back, pulling him into a hug just to calm my pounding heart. I had no idea what Damian had installed for both of us inside that warehouse. When he sent me a picture of Nova tied to a chair, her face a little bruised, I almost went crazy. I had no idea who struck me at the back of my head and took my daughter away from me. I just hoped she is alive. Damian didn't look to happy in the video that he made. He was urging me to come back home to our happy life, and he will forgive me for all that I did— for running away, for letting myself be captured as he called, and he would willingly forgive me for my infidelity. It was quite the bold accusation considering every bit of lie he told me. I wou

Chapter SeventyDamian's POVThis was a losing battle. I know I should have listened to Raymond and waited it out, but I couldn't do that; not when Isla's life was in danger. I know she was waiting for me to come, and save her. There was no way she was comfortable with Mateo, and even if she was, she is mine, and I am here to take her back.I was beginning to lose hope seeing half of my men lying dead. I never knew that Mateo would be prepared for us. He was totally wiping out my men one after the other. I had no other option than to retreat even though I couldn't get Isla. I thought I had an impenetratable fortress until I saw the De Luca estate. He really wanted to keep me out, but I still pushed my way in. Getting into the house was not easy but we finally succeeded. I thought I would see Isla somewhere around the house, but it seemed as if she wasn't home. I also couldn't find Mateo. I had no other option than to leave, returning back home. I felt like a failure. I couldn't get

Chapter Sixty-NineMateo's POVI was saddened to see Isla looking so down. The girl I knew was always so lively and cheerful. Damian seemed to have really broken her. She barely said a word as she sat in her room by the window, looking so confused. The only person that could get her to smile was Nova. I still can't believe that I was a father. This was the best gift Isla has ever given to me. I knew I had a job to do and that was to bring her out of her shell. There was no way I was letting Damian win. He may have broken her, but I was going to fix her. She will go back to being the strong woman she once was. This was fate giving me another chance at love, and I wasn't going to throw it away or ruin my chances this time.It all seemed like a coincidence. A few days after my divorce, I found the love of my life, alive and well. If it wasn't for her losing her memories, it would have been complete. I felt so relieved yesterday when she hugged me, but today she was a little withdrawn a

Chapter Sixty-EightDamian's POV "Why haven't I heard any news yet?" I barked. "Why are you slacking, Raymond?"This is so unlike him. I know he had always wanted Isla to leave me. Is that why he has been stalling? "I told you that I need every man working for the Russo's. I don't care their of their age, I need to bring hell to Mateo. How hard is that for you to carry out?" Raymond bowed his head in apology, but that wasn't what I wanted right now. I just needed Isla by my side. She was the only one I needed. I couldn't sleep last night. Even though we never slept in the same room, but I was happy knowing that she was in the same house with me. When I wake up, I would see her, and before I go to bed, she would be the last person I see. I couldn't kiss Nova goodnight anymore, and the thought of not having them here was driving me insane. I was going to do something reckless if this keeps on."I'm sorry Damian, but it isn't as easy as it seems. I had someone scout the De Luca estat

Chapter Sixty-SevenIsla's POV All this seems familiar to me, but no matter how much I tried, no matter how much I forced myself to actually remember something, it just wasn't working. When Mateo called me piccolo, it felt so familiar. I knew he was the one I constantly heard in my head. I thought it was a lie at first, and he was just trying to make me turn against Damian; but Mateo convinced me. He showed me my bedroom, and he wasn't wrong. All my pictures, even from when I was a little girl, the ones we took together when were still kids, the university I attended, all my clothes, my high school graduation pictures, my high school yearbook— everything about me was in this room. This was the kind of prove I needed from Damian when I first woke up in the hospital, when he took me home, and told me that I was his wife.He didn't have anything to show. Why did he do this to me? All these years I have been living a lie, thinking that I was his wife. Damian ruined my life, keeping me l