Bulletproof Invincible Suit Novels & Stories

"If I can cheat, so can you. It’s an open marriage, babe. Get used to it." Those were the words my husband spat at me after I caught him with his third assistant this year. So, I took his advice. He thought he could break me. After ten years of his "open marriage" demands and revolving door of mistresses, I decided to play his game. So, I bought a man. A cold, nameless call boy to help me settle the score. I left $5,000 on the nightstand and slipped away before dawn, finally feeling even. Until I missed my period. Two hours after that, my husband dragged me to his firm's annual gala to meet the new CEO; the man who holds my husband's entire career in his hands. My heart stopped. Standing there in a $10,000 suit, looking like a lethal god, was my "call boy." Julian Vane isn't a sex worker. He’s the most powerful man in the state, my husband’s biggest rival, and... he’s the father of my baby.

Alliyah Agustin thought her life was finally falling into place. She was about to marry her long-time boyfriend, Chester — the man she’d built her dreams around, the man everyone envied her for. The venue gleamed with gold, the air smelled of white roses, and her so-called best friend, Kassandrah, stood by her side as maid of honor. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t. When the ceremony began, Chester was nowhere to be found. In his place stood a stranger — dark suit, darker eyes, a smirk that didn’t belong anywhere near an altar. The crowd murmured, the priest hesitated, and before she could even process what was happening, the papers were signed. She had just married Alexander Nicholas Astley, one of the most powerful billionaires in the country — and the most feared man in the underground world. What Alliyah didn’t know was that her “perfect” fiancé and “trusted” friend had sold her — a deal made to clear a debt, sealed with her hand in marriage. And in the dangerous world she was dragged into, her survival would depend on one impossible question: Was Alexander her captor… or her savior?

For the past two weeks, my best friend, Matthew Douglas, had been dodging me. While scrolling, I came across a tarot livestream and decided to use it to check whether something had gone wrong between us. I had barely sent two gifts into the stream when an anonymous male account unmuted himself. His voice was deliberately disguised, but he spoke with barely concealed glee. "Tarot master, I'm about to run off to Sanyara with my best friend's fiancée. Read my cards. Will he catch us?" I recognized the cadence, the pauses. I was still frowning at my screen when the tarot reader flipped a card and said, "The cards show some risk. My advice? Lay a smokescreen first. Tell him your company is sending you on a business trip. Stagger the timing, and you'll be in the clear." A second later, my phone lit up. A message from Matthew appeared. Matthew: [Sorry, man. I can't make it to your suit fitting this week. An investor just sprung a last-minute site visit on me in Sanyara. My bad!]

Back then, Alice was framed by her stepsister and had a one-night stand with a strange man. When they met again three years later, she was a single mother and a urologist, and he was David, a billionaire with sexual dysfunction who couldn’t get an erection. She said, “Go lie on the treatment bed and take off your pants, including your underwear.” He stood up, unbuttoned his Tom Ford suit, and casually threw it on a chair. Then, he walked to the bedside with those long legs that would go on a runway, and slowly undid his belt, each movement carrying a kind of silent threat. “If you can‘t cure me, be prepared to be completely blackballed in the American medical circle. Don‘t even think about holding a scalpel in California for the rest of your life.” When she examined him, the change under him was astonishingly fast, like a sudden Flash fire, burning away the wasteland he had maintained for three years. His breathing instantly became heavy, and the bottom of his eyes was stained with a scarlet mixture of shock and madness. “Who the hell are you?” His voice was incredibly hoarse.

I heard a small "come in" from the other end. Grabbing the knob, I twist it before pushing the door open. My eyes widened as I saw the scene unfold in front of me. Xavier stood there in the room along with a woman whose brown hair ruffled all over the place. Her blood-red lipstick was smudged. She was dressed in a revealing top. Her breast almost spilling out of her dress and extra tight and small skirt as if she'd just come from some club, her arms crossed and her features amused. She looked strangely familiar for some reason, and it took me a while to identify her, but I did. She was the same woman I had bumped into on the market. My eyes swiftly turned to Xavier. He was dressed in a suit identical to the one Xavier wore with the top few buttons open. What caught my eyes the most was the lipstick stain on his neck identical to the one the woman had on. My heart slumped in deep dejection. It wasn't any science- rocket to know what had occurred here before my arrival.

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

He’s powerful. Unshakable. Untouchable… until she returns. Evan Ramos commands the courtroom and the city’s most prestigious law firm, but behind the polished suit and iron reputation is a man undone by grief and longing. Widowed, weary, and raising a young daughter, he has never stopped carrying the weight of a past love. Liana Cruz never meant to come back - returns to town for a funeral, sparks ignite that neither can ignore, not after the night that tore her heart apart, not after she left him for the sake of her sister. But fate has other plans. Drawn back into Evan’s orbit, she finds herself face-to-face with the man she once loved and whose touch still makes her pulse race. As legal battles pit them against each other, as stolen moments and lingering glances spark with undeniable chemistry, Evan and Liana are forced to confront the desire, guilt, and passion that refuses to stay buried. With a rival firm watching, a colleague quietly coveting her, and a past that won’t let go, the heat between them becomes impossible to ignore. Will they let the past destroy them, or will they risk everything to finally give in to the fire that has always simmered between them?

On the day I go to the car dealership to pick up my car, I'm told that the previous salesperson has resigned, so a different salesperson will attend to me. Yet the first thing the salesperson does is say that I paid too little for the car and demand that I pay more to make up the difference. "The other salesperson is truly an idiot. How could he sell a car for 300 thousand dollars in cash? It's no wonder he got chewed out and quit. If you want to take the car, you'll have to switch to a five-year loan with an interest rate of 12%." I'm rendered speechless as he blatantly tries to extort me. "I've already paid and signed the sales contract. You're breaching the contract!" The salesperson scoffs. "So what? The car is with us anyway. If you're not going to pay the difference, don't even think of taking the car with you!" I can't help but chuckle. I calmly pull my phone out of my suit pocket. "Walter, place Mr. Paul Roland's loan application on hold for now. He's earning big bucks for his business. It seems like he doesn't need it anymore."

I’m Isabella Russo, the mafia princess everyone loves to hate. Adrian Moretti—ice-cold underboss in a tailored suit—was sent to “discipline” me. I torched his villa, wrecked his meetings, even tried to make him lose control. At night, he did. Against glass, leather, marble—he taught me surrender and I hated how much I craved it. Then I learned the truth: Adrian was only a mask. His real name is Leon Moretti—heir to the empire and the fiancé promised to me since birth. It should have been a fairytale. Except my parents crowned a miracle sister who wasn’t a miracle at all. Elena slipped into my room, my heirloom, my future—and into his arms. When I was framed, caged in a walk-in freezer, whipped for a lie, he chose her. So I sold the engagement for $200M, left a single recording as proof, and vanished. By the time Leon becomes Don, he finally listens—to the tape that proves Elena’s an impostor… and to the echo of my footsteps leaving him for good. Now the most dangerous man in New York is done being careful. He’s hunting the woman he broke.

When I became pregnant, my gravely ill mother mentioned that her final wish was to witness my wedding. My boyfriend, William Jones, finally agrees to marry me after I have been asking for 99 days. Yet, on the wedding day, he never shows up, even though I was waiting in my gown at the hotel the whole day. The truth only emerges when someone found his marriage certificate that he had posted a month earlier on social media. He married his childhood sweetheart, Caroline Ashton, during that time. When my mother learns this, the shock triggers a fatal attack. She passes away despite the doctors' efforts. William sends me a message. "I'm sorry, honey. Caroline twisted her ankle, so I had to take care of her. We'll have our wedding next month, okay? I promise I'll make it up to you this time." … A month later, William prepares a lavish, grand wedding just for me. Dressed in a custom-tailored suit, he waits at the hotel. Yet, all he receives is the report from my abortion procedure. There is only one sentence on the back—"William, this is goodbye forever."