Bulletproof Invincible Suit Novels & Stories

Every year, my wife, Jessica Lowe, prepares a huge surprise for me on our wedding anniversary. On the night of our tenth anniversary, she enters the banquet hall with a scantily-dressed male model. She demands that I take off my suit and put it on him instead. I refuse and take out a divorce agreement. In retaliation, Jessica slaps a thick stack of photos onto the table. The photos show me at my most humiliated, shameful, and pathetic moments. She sneers, "Michael Jefferson, you talk about divorce all the time. But each time, you always end up crawling back to me with your tail between your legs, begging me to take you back. "Tell me, what will your comatose mother think if these pictures of you get out? Will she finally wake up in the hospital from shame and embarrassment?" However, Jessica doesn't know that my mother, Eleanor Brown, passed away months ago.

I, Isabella Norton, once made a promise with Julian Lawson, the billionaire CEO. After 98 proposals, he vows to appear at the doors of the city hall on my 99th attempt. But when the day comes, he doesn't show up. Instead, he brings his mistress, Natalie Mayer, to a concert. The sweet kiss they share under the camera's spotlight quickly turns into a trending sensation. At the same time, I also make headlines for turning up at the city hall for the 99th time. Speculations about the mysterious groom who never makes an appearance run wild. Everyone wonders when I will make my 100th attempt to propose. Out of guilt, Julian promises to show up next time when he realizes that I have carried out my promise. But when he finally arrives there clad in an impeccable suit, all he receives is a text message from me. "There won't be a hundredth proposal. It's over between us."

Elara White is fourteen days away from marrying the Golden Boy of Las Vegas when she finds out his true colors: he's a cheat, an opportunist, and he's blackmailing her with videos and photos that could ruin her reputation. In a moment of hurt, she takes her roommate's place in a BDSM elite club and has a sizzling hot one night stand with a masked stranger who treats her like a Queen. Some nights later, her fiancé introduces her to his father. The man who fucked her within an inch of her life stands up, adjusts his designer suit, and looks her dead in the eye. "Elara. Nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you, and seen even more." Elara's life changes in one night, trapped between two dangerous men who have zero intention of letting her go. WARNING: MATURE CONTENT!

Three days before my wedding, my younger sister staged a scene—one where I supposedly abandoned her in the mountains. She claimed I locked her in a cabin, left her to be nearly assaulted, and that she barely escaped with her life. Furious, my fiancé dragged me up the mountain and locked me in that same cabin. He said, "Wendy, a woman as vicious as you won't learn her lesson without punishment. I already told you I'd marry you. Why go after Chloe? Since you're so desperate to climb your way up, you can stay here until the wedding day." I begged him, over and over, but my scorched throat could only force out hoarse, grating sounds. Three days later, Mickey O'Brien stood at the altar in his suit, waiting for me. What he got instead was my remains.

I was doted to the bone by the mafia heir, Leonardo — he took bullets for me, endured 99 lashes, and promised to take me to see the Southern Sea that never freezes! But he let Zoe get pregnant with his child. He accused me of causing Ella’s pollen allergy, and even gave the only keepsake left by my mother — a bracelet — to Zoe as an apology. He said, "It’s just a bracelet." During an argument, he shoved me down, causing my head to bleed, yet he rushed to the hospital with Zoe, not even bothering to look back at me. I lay in the hospital getting stitches, and his suit still carried Zoe’s perfume. He yelled at me, "You followed me to the hospital to cause trouble!" My heart shattered, yet he still lied to me, "I only love you. After this fake wedding, I’ll take you away!"

"I loved that I fell for you but I hated that I was your second. That second which always comes after first!" Lilian Evans got married to Richard Tucker after his first wife died. She couldn't keep her heart in place despite his rude and ignorant behaviour. Things got a little overboard and now she was stuck at a point of no return. How would Lilian unfold her life in chaos with the responsibility of being a mother? "Touching others' belongings without consent! You know that is bad manner, right?" Lilian turned in the direction of the voice only to find her husband standing there in the ebony rich suit, his tie a little loose as he gazed right into her soul. "Oh... Yeah, sorry. I was just-" "Your room is at the end of this hallway, closer to Aid's," he said, taking off his coat and not minding to let his bride complete her sentence.

When a predator becomes the prey… Alejandro Cortes was born into violence. As the heir to the infamous Cortes mafia family, he grew into something worse. Someone who bathes in the blood of his enemies yet with precision. A devil in a tailored suit feared across Italy. Ruthless. Untouchable. A man who ruled through blood and terror. Yet even devils have weaknesses. For Alejandro it was not his wife. It was his daughter. Nikolai Vassilliou built his empire differently. Not by any inheritance, but by hunger. By betrayal. By carving his name into the underworld through sheer brutality. Two monsters ruling two empires. Then one mistake changed everything. A hit meant for Alejandro’s wife ended with his daughter dead. Now Nikolai sits chained in a cold concrete cell. Broken, bleeding and at the mercy of a grieving father. The predator who once hunted… has finally become the prey. But revenge has a way of turning hatred into something far more dangerous.

After completing my studies overseas, it's time for me to marry Cynthia Norton, my childhood sweetheart. But on the day I'm supposed to pick up the wedding tuxedo, I see my tuxedo, which is a custom-ordered suit that's worth a million dollars, being worn by Theodore Hasting, the low-income student Cynthia is currently sponsoring. When I demand that the tuxedo be returned, I get called the homewrecker instead. People even mock me for being a boy toy who wants to take the shortcut by clinging to a rich woman. Cynthia tells me Theodore has never experienced wearing a wedding tuxedo before, so she wants me to graciously give him the chance. I like doing charity work the most. Since I can give a million-dollar wedding tuxedo away, I should just give the marriage contract away too. Then again, not anyone can simply accept the marriage contract meant for me, the heir of the Emerson family.

Clayton Amos finally agrees to marry me during my fifth year as the antagonist of a novel. On the day of my wedding, the chandelier in the middle of the hall suddenly snaps and falls. At the most critical moment, he shoves me aside and runs over to protect Gladys Dawson, the protagonist of the novel, and his first love. Clayton's arm is slashed as a result, and blood pours out of the wound, dyeing his pristine white suit red. Meanwhile, Gladys remains unharmed in his arms. I hold a hand against the bleeding wound on my neck and finally accept the fact that Clayton never loved me. This is when the system appears and asks me, "Hailey Paltrow, would you like to abort your mission now?" I nod in silent response. "Since he's going to end up losing all four of his limbs and ultimately wish for death, I'll let him have it."

My marriage to Dante, the Moretti heir, was meant to be a union of power, an alliance of empires. But for me, it was also the real deal. Then his adopted sister, Clara, showed up at a party. She was wearing his custom leather jacket, straddling his prized Ducati, and she looked right at me with a smirk. "Dante says," she purred, "that I suit these precious things better than you do." My smile froze. Dante had her on a plane overseas so fast it was like she'd never existed. Five years later, the night before our wedding. I found him staring at the design for our wedding rings. He'd changed the engraving. The "Amor Aeternus"—Eternal Love—was gone. In its place: "Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa." My sin, my greatest sin. I took off my veil right then and there. "The wedding," I said, my voice like ice, "is off."