Novels by Intana Meisya

Years later...The wedding vows that had been taken, would always be the binding between us. We had built a prosperous and peaceful family together during our ten years of marriage.I am grateful to have two children, Adrian and Skylar.Adrian Ainsley, aged nine, had become an older brother who loves his younger sister, Skylar. He really became a big brother for her.His face is not the same bit as mine, but with his father. Sometimes I got annoyed by comments from people who never realized my resemblance to him.They often said that none of my children look like me. Even my lovely baby, Skylar. She's 99 percent like her father, only different genders."Look mom, I have a new word to tell you." Adrian came over to me with his favorite basketball between his right arm.I don't know where his hobbies come from, but he really likes playing basketball. Barra and I don't

He doesn't understand!He doesn't get it at all!My thoughts about marriage had changed. If I used to think of a beautiful wedding like in the world of fairy tale, now I wasn't thinking the same anymore. I became to think differently. I was terrified just thinking about marriage.Especially after clearly knowing the details of what happened in past. My own parents' marriage did not go smoothly.It was so toxic and full of cruel twists. Rose Ozza, my mother, or Yolanda may be strong in facing their ordeal, but it was different for me. I got fragile easily and now I scared so much.I was afraid that Barra would leave me for a better and worthy one. I got so fed up just thinking about other women had the edge over me.I'm a woman and of course, wanting the same thing all women wants, to get married.A sacred event that I wanted to happen once in my life and with the ri

All problems had found a bright spot. Then what now?Haytham and Alia had returned to their mansion and living their lives as before.I gave Ronald and Elsa a day off as a token of gratitude for helping me all this time, while Jake ... that guy was busy running his single life by becoming a player. He dated different women every week, I didn't even know their names.As for Jazzlin, I asked her to stay with me, in the mansion. Everything felt lonely when she was not there, around me. So, we decided to stay together from now on.I looked at her whole face. She looked innocent with her eyes closed. I pushed aside the strands of hair when it covered her face, then looked at her again.A smile appeared on my face, imagining how lucky I was to finally with her again.I put my head on the pillow, tilted my face closer to her.Her breath blew to me as her hand was right in

"Principessa?" Barra's voice assured me that I'm still alive.I was so limp as I opened my eyes. My hand had its way to my face. I shut my mouth closed while I yawned."Glad to see you wake up again." His words made me chuckle."Hmmm, you're still waiting for me? I thought Moorah already stole you from me."His face frowned when I mentioned Moorah's name, "I'm just kidding." I laughed out loud, "Besides, I know who you love. That person is me and not another woman."He gave me his best smile, "Oh yeah?" His finger poked my nose."Auch! Stop it." I tried to reach his finger. The more I couldn't get it, the more he kept teasing me. He kept poking my nose, every time I tried to stop him.He chuckled, "I win and you lose." He told me then showing me his thumbs down."I hate you." Hearing my answer, he moved closer to me. He pulled the strands of my hair

It was like dejavu. I brought her back to my mansion. It was like the old time, I sat waiting for her to wake up.The last time she was unconscious was because she attempted suicide. I didn't realize she'd woken up again, but with someone else's spirit, Janielle.Now she was unconscious again, and I gripped her soft hand with hope filled my heart.The doctor said she was just passed out, but it had been hours and she hadn't opened her beautiful eyes yet.I remembered how terrified I got when I was told that she was unconscious because she had tried to kill herself.At that time the feeling of regret got me. I wasn't there when she needed me. Then now, I was by her side and still couldn't take care of her.(Flashback to chapter one from Barra's point of view)It had been a long time since I met my old friend, Jazzlin Ozza. The news about the woman was circulating in

I had to tell my truth to Jazzlin's father, so he would forgive his daughter. He used to love her so much, but because of this ... everything had changed.Haytham insisted on joining us to Jeremy Ozza's penthouse, even though at first Barra didn't want him there. They both tried to dominate each other, but they just ended up falling in a cold war for a moment.When I was right in front of the penthouse, my palms got cold. I rubbed my itchy eyes then prepared myself once more.I was so restless and it really made me want to pee. Before the others got inside, I had already rushed in there to find a restroom.I went into one of the restrooms and immediately peed. The sound of footsteps made me stop my next action."Jazzlin, are you in there?"My lips pouted when I noticed it was Moorah.For God's sake, I don't like her so why does she keep walking around in my life ?

Rebecca’s POV The words lingered between us, heavy enough to choke the air. Gideon didn’t move, didn’t blink—just stood there like a verdict waiting to be spoken. When his voice finally came, it was low and unyielding. “I’ve come to a decision," A chill rippled through me. “What kind of decision?” “You need training,” I blinked. “Training?” “At dawn tomorrow. In the yard.” His voice was final, clipped. “I’ll teach you.” “You think I can fight?” I asked, my voice catching between disbelief and a laugh that didn’t quite make it out. “You need to fight,” Gideon corrected. “Not like a knight. But enough to keep yourself standing if—” He broke off, jaw locking. “If I’m not there.” The words sliced sharper than his blade ever could. I folded my arms, though it felt more like holding myself together. “You’re always there.” His eyes softened, for only a flicker. “I try to be.” The way Gideon said it—quiet, like it was some confession he shouldn’t make—settled in my chest, heavy an

Rebecca’s POV “You always do this,” I whispered. Gideon’s eyes narrowed, though his voice stayed infuriatingly calm. “Do what?” “You act like I should be grateful. Like I should wear these chains and smile. You don’t even ask me what I want—you just decide for me.” My chest was tight, my voice trembling. “That’s what the Queen does, Gideon. And when you act like this, you sound just like her.” Something flickered dangerously in his eyes. “Don’t compare me to her.” “Then stop making me feel like I don’t get to want anything,” I shot back, fists clenched. “I didn’t ask for this—no. But I didn’t ask for you to choose everything for me, either.” His silence was heavier than shouting. His body was iron, but his eyes burned like fire. Finally, his voice came low and sharp: “If I hadn’t decided, Rebecca, you’d be dead by now.” The truth of it knocked the air from me. The Queen. The love potion. Kalali Vierent’s arrow—and the bruises she left on my wrist. Every moment since this began

Rebecca’s POV The air between us lingered, taut and delicate, lavender and mint sharp in my lungs. But the sun was slipping, turning the edges of Blackthorn Hall gold, and with it came the reminder of where we had to return. “We should go,” Gideon said at last, though his voice was reluctant, like he’d rather anchor himself here with me in this forgotten garden. I brushed dirt from my fingers. “Back to the palace.” His jaw tightened. “Yes. Before nightfall.” Neither of us moved right away. I only realized I was still holding his hand when his thumb brushed once against mine, unthinking, like a man caught between letting go and refusing to. At last, Gideon released me. “Come,” He said quietly. We walked back through the hallways, the silence not empty but weighted, full of what hadn’t been said. The house felt different now—less imposing, less sharp. Maybe it was me, maybe it was him, but it seemed to breathe easier. Maeryn was waiting in the foyer, her hands clasped in front o

Rebecca's POV The walk back to the house felt different—lighter in some ways, heavier in others. I kept close to Gideon, his arm brushing mine, the warmth of him radiating quietly, almost deliberately. The courtyard seemed less intimidating now, the polished stones gleaming under the afternoon sun rather than threatening in their orderliness. Maeryn emerged from the house steps, arms crossed, giving me a careful once-over. “I trust the graves are in order?” She asked. Her voice carried that same sharpness that hinted at years of managing both the house and the temper of the Knight Commander. “They’re perfect,” I said softly, brushing imaginary dust from my skirt. Her gaze flicked to Gideon, and I saw the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips. “Then perhaps we can move to refreshments. Commander, Miss Rosewyn is welcome in the house.” Gideon inclined his head, almost imperceptibly, but it was enough. The way he moved—so controlled, so deliberate—made every step see

Rebecca’s POV The courtyard slowly began to quiet as the children scattered, each carrying their prizes like treasure. Mrs. Barbara busied herself with Gideon’s men, tallying the supplies his funds had purchased and murmuring in approval over the crates of goods. I lingered near the steps, brushing stray strands of hair out of my face where the girls’ braids had loosened, watching Gideon from the corner of my eye. He was crouched near the wagon, speaking to one of the older boys—his tone low, his expression patient but focused. Even at rest, there was nothing careless about him. The way his hand rested on the boy’s shoulder, steady and grounding, looked… permanent. Mrs. Barbara finished counting the last of the crates, shooing one of Gideon's men toward the wagon with a playful swat of her ledger. When she spotted me lingering near the steps, she came over, wiping her hands on her apron. “Still the same courtyard you used to run through, hm?” Mrs. Barbara said with a knowing smi

Rebecca’s POV Gideon had kept his word. At first light, we left the palace. The early morning sun spilled pale gold over the worn stones as we crossed the narrow street separating the palace from the orphanage. The Royal Orphanage—home to the ragged and hopeful, to whispered dreams and stubborn resilience. I hadn’t set foot there in years, and yet the sight of it stirred something deep inside me—familiar, bittersweet. The place was still wrapped in the hush of morning. Shutters were closed, and the faint scent of porridge drifted through the cool air. Somewhere inside, a single muffled laugh rang out before fading back into the quiet. Gideon walked beside me, silent and steady, the usual armor of command hanging lightly on his shoulders today, replaced by something quieter. When the door creaked open, Mrs. Barbara appeared in the threshold, her white hair pinned neatly, hands folded like a guardian of secrets and stories. Her smile bloomed the moment she saw me, warm as a heart