Novels by Ij Gabriel

Naya“Are you serious? No phones?”Zipper zipped his duffel shut and tossed it into the trunk. “Completely. No calls, no emails, no screens. Just us.”She folded her arms. “You know I can’t survive without music.”“You’ll live. I brought a speaker. Old-fashioned Bluetooth, no notifications.”“That’s cheating.”He smiled, sunglasses sliding down his nose. “That’s compromise.”She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth lifted. He’d been hinting for days that he had “one last surprise.” Now she was standing beside his car in shorts and a loose white shirt, the Pacific air warm and salty.“Fine,” she said. “But if I get bored, I’m stealing your phone.”“You’ll be too busy.”****They reached the villa just before sunset. White walls, palm trees, and the sound of waves somewhere below the hill. The inside smelled of salt and lemons.Zipper carried the bags in while Naya explored barefoot, touching everything like she didn’t quite believe it was real.“This place is ridiculous,” she s

Naya“Did you watch me sleep?”Zipper smirked from where he leaned against the dresser, arms crossed. “For a bit. You snore.”“I do not!”“You kind of do. Like a baby bear.”She groaned and pulled the blanket over her face. Her head throbbed, her throat dry, and the smell of his cologne clung to the air. When she finally peeked out, she realized she was in his room on his bed, his sheets, his everything.“Oh my God,” she muttered. “I fainted in front of you.”“Collapsed like a princess,” he said. “Very dramatic.”She threw a pillow at him. “You could’ve at least carried me to my own bed.”“I tried,” he said with mock seriousness. “But you latched onto me like a koala. I took it as a sign.”“Zipper!”“What? You were comfortable.”She grabbed the nearest thing within reach which was a heel from the floor, and aimed it at him.“Put the weapon down,” he warned, laughing.“Say you’re sorry.”“For what?”“For being insufferable.”He stepped back, still grinning. “Never.”She got off the bed

NayaThe first thing Naya noticed when she walked into the ballroom was how everyone seemed to know Zipper.And how every woman wanted to.She had expected the charity gala to be formal, quiet, maybe even boring. But under the glittering chandeliers of the Beverly Grand, it was loud, alive, and sparkling with people who looked like they had stepped out of magazine covers.Zipper fit right in. He was tall, calm, and ridiculously good-looking in his black tux. The bow tie looked too tight, but somehow it made him look even more expensive.She stood beside him in her fitted emerald dress, pretending not to notice the way women kept brushing past just to say hello.“Zipper,” one of them purred, fingers lightly touching his sleeve. “You never told us you were bringing someone.”He smiled politely. “Wasn’t sure I’d survive the night alone.”The woman laughed, throwing her head back. “I could’ve helped with that.”Naya forced a smile. “He’s doing fine, thanks.”The woman gave her a quick onc

NayaThe slap still echoed between them long after the sound had died.For three days, the house was silent. Naya spent her mornings in the kitchen, her evenings on the balcony, and her nights staring at the ceiling until dawn. Zipper was still there, moving around the apartment like a ghost, always giving her room but never too far.They didn’t speak, but somehow he was everywhere.Every morning, there was coffee waiting for her on the counter. The first day she ignored it. The second, she poured it down the sink. By the third, she drank half before realizing she’d given in.When she saw him that afternoon, he didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod like it meant something. Maybe it did.****One evening, she found him sitting on the couch with his laptop. Papers were spread across the table, the glow of the screen highlighting the tired lines around his eyes.“Working again?” she asked before she could stop herself.He looked up slowly, surprised she’d spoken first. “Trying to.”

Naya's povFor a long time, neither of them said anything. Zipper’s eyes searched her face.She swallowed hard. “I want the truth. What's not fair is everyone lying to me.”He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You wouldn’t have gone looking if you didn’t already know it.”Her voice shook. “Then say it. Don’t make me guess.”He looked away, running a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s not that simple, Naya.”“It’s never simple with you.”He sighed and started toward the study. “Come with me.”She hesitated but followed him anyway, her bare feet silent on the hardwood. When he pushed open the door, the familiar scent of cedar hit her again. The envelope she’d touched earlier sat on the desk exactly where she’d left it, but now it felt heavier just being there.Zipper turned to face her, his hand resting on the edge of the desk. “You saw what was inside?”“I didn’t mean to,” she said quietly. “I just—”He nodded once. “Yeah. You did.”There was no anger in his voice. Just tiredness.N

NayaHer heart thudded when she peeled the wax seal open. The red cracked softly, and she froze for a second, glancing toward the door like she expected Zipper to appear out of nowhere.When no sound came from the hallway, she slid her thumb under the flap and pulled out the papers. A few photos fell onto the desk, spreading out like puzzle pieces.At first, she didn’t understand what she was seeing.The man in the old pictures was Zipper, only younger, his hair a little longer, his smile a little freer. But beside him were faces she knew too well. Her mother. Her father.What the hell?She picked up one photo, her hand trembling slightly. It was her parents standing in front of a house she remembered all too well, and there he was Zipper, standing right next to them, his hand on her father’s shoulder. They all looked happy.There were letters, too. Some had her father’s handwriting. One had Zipper’s name typed neatly at the top. Legal papers, agreements, signatures she didn’t unders

Selene stared at the empty space. Her hand closed around the locket until its edges bit into her skin.Branches shifted behind her. It was Frey.“Selene?”She spun, claws half-raised, then froze. Frey stepped through the trees, breathing hard, eyes sweeping the clearing.“What happened?” he asked. “I heard you shout.”“She was right here,” Selene said. “A woman. Black hair. She—”Frey stopped a few feet away. “There’s no one here.”“She was,” Selene said, louder than she meant to. “You didn’t see her?”He shook his head once. “I saw light, that’s all. Then nothing.”Selene looked down at the locket. “She gave me this.”Frey’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you get that?”“I told you. She—”“Let me see it.”She hesitated, then held it out. His fingers brushed hers as he took it, rough and warm, and the contact jolted her. Frey turned the locket over, frowning.“It’s old,” he said. “Older than you, maybe older than me.”“It has blood on it.”“Dried. Whoever owned it… lost more than blood.”H

"Come closer, Selene."The whisper still lingered in the air long after it should have faded, curling through the dark like smoke.I took a step without even realizing it. Then another.The trees pressed in around me, and the faint golden shimmer over my hands dimmed into nothing, leaving me feeling exposed.My claws stayed out, though. My nails dug into my palms as I walked, following that voice, even though every instinct screamed at me to turn back.But it was the mention of my parents that kept me moving.Whoever she was — she’d said she had a message from them. And I… I couldn’t walk away from that. Not now.The forest felt colder here, and quiet in a way that didn’t feel right. Not a single branch creaked. No birds rustled above me. The usual smell of pine and earth had been swallowed up by something sour and metallic.I kept walking.The voice didn’t call again, but it didn’t have to.It felt like invisible strings were tugging me forward, guiding me through trees I didn’t reco

"Where the hell have you been?"The words hit me the moment I stepped into the clearing.Frey was already on his feet by the fire, his shoulders bunched, his claws out. I hadn’t even finished brushing the dirt off my hands when he stalked toward me, his sharp blue eyes catching the light like cold flame.The children all stopped what they were doing and went quiet. A little girl even pulled her blanket over her head as if that would protect her from the storm brewing.I didn’t stop walking. My heart was still pounding too hard, my skin still humming faintly with golden light, and Rafe’s smell still clung to me like smoke.Frey stopped just short of me, close enough that I could see how his nostrils flared as he took in my scent.And then his lips curled."You smell like him," he spat, his voice low but sharp enough to cut.I froze.The fire cracked between us, and I felt the golden spark under my skin prickle to life again.“You’ve been with him,” Frey said, louder now. “You went runn

"Let me go."Light flared down my arm, searing into my knuckles, and when my fist connected with his jaw, the whole forest seemed to shudder around us.He didn’t just stumble.He went flying.His body hit a tree hard enough to split the trunk down the middle, wood groaning and splintering under him before he dropped to the ground in a cloud of needles and bark.I stood there, chest heaving, the golden light still swirling around me, sparking from my fingertips to the blackened ground. My breathing sounded too loud in the silence that followed.Then I heard it.A laugh.Low. Rough. Infuriatingly amused.Rafe pushed himself to his feet, brushing a streak of blood from his lip with the back of his hand.“Feel better?” he asked, his voice curling into a dark smile.My lip curled, and I took a step toward him, the ground quivering faintly under my feet as the light coiled tighter. “Don’t start with me, Rafe.”But he was already grinning through his split lip, his silver eyes burning hotter

"We’re all just waiting to see who you kill first."The boy’s words kept ringing in my ears, louder with every breath, until I couldn’t stand to sit there another second.“Enough,” I hissed to myself, shoving off my knees.Someone said my name as I stormed away from the fire — Frey’s voice, low and careful — but I didn’t look back.Not this time.The cold night swallowed me up almost instantly, branches clawing at my arms as I pushed through the undergrowth.My fingers itched, my veins too hot, and little sparks of that golden light kept flickering under my skin like embers trying to catch.I hated it.I hated him.I hated all of them.The boy’s mismatched eyes, Frey’s knowing silence, and most of all… Rafe.That arrogant bastard’s face wouldn’t leave my mind, no matter how fast I walked. His voice — the last words he ever said to me before turning his back and letting me drown."You’re too weak to stand beside me."And I believed him.For far too long, I believed him.I shoved anothe

“I thought you’d be asleep by now.” Frey said, leaning against the tree like he owned the whole forest.I nearly jumped out of my skin.“Gods, Frey, you—” I pressed a hand to my chest and glared at him. “Do you creep on every girl who can’t sleep, or is it just me?”He smiled, sharp as a blade in moonlight. “Only the dangerous ones.”I stepped off the cabin porch and into the cool night air, arms crossed. My cheeks burned hotter than I liked to admit. All around us the camp was quiet. The fire was nothing but a faint orange glow in the pit, kids curled up in blankets like little foxes. The air smelled like ash and damp pine.I’d been trying, but failing to sleep for hours. My body was heavy but my mind just… wouldn’t shut up. Rafe’s voice still rang in my head from earlier, every word another bruise. The children’s hollow eyes haunted me. Even Frey’s crooked smile left me feeling all tangled up inside.Now here he was, all tall and lean, leaning like he’d been waiting just for me. M

Amelia’s POV“Go fuck yourself,” I said.Sienna’s smile froze for half a second, then she tilted her head like she found it amusing. “Touchy.”I took a step forward, my hand shaking. “You think you can threaten me? You think you can walk into my life and—”“Relax, Amelia,” she said, stepping back. “You’ll make a scene.”“I’ll make more than a scene,” I said and lunged for her arm.But she moved fast, and faster than I expected. Her umbrella clattered against the pavement as she dodged me, heels scraping on the wet ground. I tried to grab her again, but she slipped out of reach, laughing like this was some kind of joke.“You should save your energy,” she said, already backing toward the corner. “You’re going to need it.”“Come back here!” I shouted, my voice breaking through the rain. “You don’t get to threaten me and walk away!”But she was already crossing the street, her silhouette shrinking under the dull glow of the streetlights. She turned once, still smiling. “Twenty-four hours,

Amelia’s POVEthan got home late.I heard the elevator doors open before I saw him. The rain had followed him in drenching him. His shirt was damp and his jacket slung over one shoulder. He looked like he’d been through another storm, but this one was his own making.I was sitting at the kitchen counter, staring at the cold tea I’d made an hour ago.“You’re late,” I said quietly.He tossed his keys into the bowl by the door. “Long day.”“That’s becoming your favorite excuse.”He didn’t look at me. He walked straight to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and drank half of it in one go. His movements were sharp, restless. The kind that made me hold my breath before speaking again.“Did something happen at work?” I asked.“No.” He closed the bottle, a little too hard. “Everything’s fine.”“You don’t look fine.”He turned then, eyes tired. “I said it’s fine.”I tried to smile, tried to sound lighter than I felt. “You can tell me, you know. Whatever it is—”“Amelia,” he cut in, loud

Ethan's povI got home from the police station before midnight.Amelia was asleep on the couch again, one hand on her stomach, the TV still glowing faint blue across the room. I didn’t wake her. I stood there for a while, watching her chest rise and fall, the kind of calm that didn’t belong in the world I’d walked back into.My bail papers were still folded in my jacket pocket. I was granted temporary freedom. Nothing more.I showered, changed, and sat in the kitchen with a mug of coffee I didn’t drink. Every creak in the apartment felt loud. By morning, I’d made up my mind—I was going back to work.If the wolves were going to circle, I wasn’t going to wait for them to bite first.Sterling Tower looked different when you’d been handcuffed on live television in front of it. The same glass walls, the same neat rows of black cars, but people looked away when I walked through the lobby. The receptionist tried to smile. Failed halfway.When the elevator doors opened on the executive floor,

Detective Hale’s POV The morning started quiet. Too quiet for what had landed in my inbox at 5:43 a.m. I sat at my desk with a stale cup of coffee and my headphones on, replaying the same thirty-second clip over and over. Dr. Marks’s voice came through clear, low and steady, like he was speaking into a recorder just a few feet away. “It wasn’t Ethan who killed Leo.” The line repeated in my head long after I stopped the audio. Every time I listened, I caught something different. A chair creaking. A faint hum, maybe from an air vent. The sound of someone breathing close to the mic. It wasn’t staged, but it wasn’t casual either. Whoever sent this knew what they were doing. Garcia, the tech from forensics, leaned over my desk. “We ran it through the filters twice,” he said. “No signs of tampering. The voice matches Dr. Marks, one hundred percent.” “Where’d it come from?” He shrugged. “Anonymous email. Sent from a burner IP. We can’t trace it.” I rubbed my jaw. “Of cou

Sienna’s POVThe morning news played on low volume, the way I liked it just noise in the background while I picked at my fruit bowl. Pineapple, strawberries, a few grapes that had started to wrinkle. I pushed them around with my fork, pretending not to care.Then Ethan’s face flashed on the screen.My fork paused midair.The headline at the bottom scrolled: CEO ETHAN ARRESTED IN CONNECTION TO LEO’ S DEATH.The reporter’s voice was steady, calm, cruel. “Police sources confirm Mr. Ethan was taken into custody last night. Investigations are ongoing—”I turned the volume down. The remote felt slippery in my hand. The coffee beside me had gone cold, but I lifted the cup anyway, trying to look casual for no one but myself. My hand trembled, just slightly. The cup clinked when I set it back down.“You weren’t supposed to protect her,” I muttered.On the screen, Ethan was shoved into the back of a police car. His tie was gone. His shirt open at the neck. He looked dazed or maybe he was just

I woke up on the couch with the TV still on. My neck ached, and the blanket I’d thrown over myself sometime during the night had slipped to the floor.For a second, I forgot why I was there. Then the screen reminded me.A reporter stood in front of Sterling Tower, the words CEO IN POLICE CUSTODY flashing at the bottom. Behind her, the footage looped again with Ethan being led out in handcuffs, his head bowed against the rain.I grabbed the remote and turned down the volume. It didn’t help. The image stayed burned behind my eyes.My phone sat on the coffee table. Two missed calls. None from him.I called the station. After three transfers and five minutes of hold music, someone finally answered.“Central Precinct, Officer Dale speaking.”“I’m calling about Ethan Blackwood. He was arrested yesterday. I need to know if he’s been released.”“One moment, ma’am.”The line went quiet except for the faint clicking of a keyboard. Then, “I’m sorry, but we can’t disclose that information over t

ElaraThe black car came just after seven amI was still in my robe, hair tied in a loose bun, coffee growing cold beside a half-eaten slice of toast. My kitchen smelled faintly of vanilla and burnt bread which was a sign that I was, at best, pretending to have my life together.When the doorbell rang, I almost ignored it. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Then I saw the prado car through the window and a man in a suit standing at my gate like he’d stepped out of a movie.He held a white box and a letter. “From Mr. Pierce,” he said simply, handing them over.“Mr. Pierce?” I repeated, pretending not to know.“Yes, ma’am. He said to deliver it personally.”The handwriting on the envelope was bold and unmistakable.When I opened the box, the air seemed to thin around me. Inside was a dress midnight blue silk that shimmered when it caught the light, soft enough to slip through my fingers like water. The neckline was daring, the slit too high to be innocent, and the shape unmistakably made for me

Chloe’s POVLandon had been distracted for days.I first noticed it the morning he skipped breakfast, sitting on the balcony instead, staring at his phone. His coffee went cold beside him. He didn’t even touch it.“Everything okay?” I asked, wrapping my robe tighter.He blinked, almost surprised to see me there. “Yeah. Just tired.”“From what? You’ve done nothing but meetings and charity dinners.”He gave a small laugh but didn’t look up. “You sound jealous.”“I sound observant.” I moved closer, peeking at his phone. He turned it away too quickly.“Don’t start, Chloe.”“Start what?”He sighed and stood up. “You’re impossible sometimes.”He left without another word. But I saw the name on his phone before he flipped it over. Elena Marks.The same woman from the gala.I tried not to think about it at first. Women came and went around Landon like perfume, they were here one night, and forgotten the next. But something about this one was different. He didn’t just want her. He was bothered

ElenaThe message came that morning from Dante inviting me for lunch.I read it twice, smiling. My plan was working beautifully.I took my time getting ready. The black silk dress I chose wasn’t flashy, but it did just the trick of highlighting my curves. My hair fell in soft waves, and I painted my lips a calm shade of red. The kind of red that said I’m not trying to seduce you, but I could.By the time I arrived, his assistant was already waiting. She looked startled, almost flustered. “Mr. Pierce is expecting you,” she said, leading me through the glass doors.His office sat high above the city, a stretch of steel and sunlight. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the skyline, but the man standing near them made the view look dull.“Miss Marks,” he said, turning. “You’re punctual. I like that.”“I figured it was safer not to keep you waiting,” I said, stepping closer.“You say that like I’m dangerous.”“Shouldn’t I?”He smiled faintly and gestured toward a table set up near the window.

DanteI saw them before they saw me.Landon’s hand was on her arm.I stepped outside just as she pulled away from him. Her expression didn’t change, but her body was stiff, alert. She looked calm, but I could see the effort in it.“Goodnight, Landon,” she said, and slid into the backseat of a waiting car.The door shut, the engine started, and she was gone before my son could even think about stopping her again.He stood there by the curb, shoulders tense, staring at the empty road like he’d just seen a ghost.I waited a few seconds before walking over. “You want to explain what that was?”Landon turned, startled. “Dad. I didn’t see you there.”“Clearly.” I folded my arms. “Who is she?”“Elena,” he said quickly. “Elena Marks.”“I know her name,” I said. “That’s not what I asked.”He hesitated. “I… don’t know. She reminds me of someone.”“Reminds you?”He ran a hand through his hair. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”“That’s not new,” I said.He ignored me. “She reminds me of Elara.”That name

The next morning, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.Lucia’s name flashed on the screen.“Tell me you didn’t sleep with him,” she said as soon as I answered.“Good morning to you too.”“I saw the pictures. You’re all over the society pages. Dante Pierce couldn’t take his eyes off you.”I smiled faintly, scrolling through the articles. Who is the mysterious woman with the billionaire? “That’s good,” I said. “It means it’s working.”Lucia sighed. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darling. That man eats people for breakfast.”“So do I,” I said, ending the call.By noon, I had another text — this time from an unknown number.Unknown: Elena? It’s Landon. Hope you don’t mind me getting your number from the guest list.I stared at the screen for a long moment, my lips curving into a slow smile.Me: You seem persistent.Landon: You seem familiar.Me: We already covered that.Landon: Dinner tonight? Just two old souls who maybe met in another life.I didn’t answer. I wanted him restless.That nig

Dante didn’t look away even after I tried to break eye contact. He was studying me, not in a rude way, but like he was trying to remember something and couldn’t let it go.“You have a strange effect on people,” he said finally.“People?” I asked. “Or men?”“Same thing, sometimes,” he replied, his lips curving slightly.I laughed under my breath. “That depends on who you ask.”“I’m asking you.”“Then yes,” I said. “Sometimes they are the same.”He tilted his head, amused. “You’re confident.”“I have to be,” I said. “It’s the only way to survive in a room full of sharks.”He chuckled quietly. “You don’t look like prey.”“I’m not.”“Good,” he said. “Because I don’t hunt for sport.”“Then what do you hunt for?” I asked, raising a brow.“Truth,” he said. “And people who lie well.”“That sounds like work,” I said, smiling. “You’re at a party, Mr. Pierce. Try to have some fun.”He leaned in just a little. “I am.”The air between us changed then. His nearness was warm, steady. He wasn’t touch