Katniss Mockingjay Suit Novels & Stories

In the fifth year of my marriage with Caspian Hayes, I finally receive the wonderful news of being able to leave this world once and for all. In my last three days of existence, I decide to play the roles of the perfect wife and the silent mother Caspian and our son, Noah Hayes, want me to play. On the first day, Caspian complains that I'm not prim and proper enough, so he intends to attend the banquet with the fake heiress, Erin Winslow, as his date. I merely iron his suit without a word of complaint. On the second day, Noah doesn't like how nagging I am, so he throws a tantrum and demands to see Erin. With a smile on my face, I deliver him to Erin's doorstep. On the third day, my friend calls me on the phone. She asks me in a disappointed tone, "Aren't you worried that you might lose favor with them for real at this point?" I just smile wanly. "It's fine. I'll be going home soon anyway." That's when Caspian wheels around to look at me. For once, there's panic in his eyes. "Aren't you an orphan, Astrid? You don't have another home other than the one you have with me!"

I've been married to my Mafia Boss husband for 15 years. When we first got married, he couldn't even afford a ring, but I didn't care; I loved him. I hid my identity. I secretly used my family's influence to help him build his empire from scratch, and I even bore him two children. His adopted sister always mocked me, calling me an old-fashioned housewife and saying I wasn't good enough for him. To avoid embarrassing him, I always endured it. Until our 15th anniversary, because both me and his adopted sister wore red dresses, he told me to stay in the kitchen: "Sofia's right. That red doesn't suit you. Don't come out until the banquet actually ends. Stay in the kitchen. I don't need the Dons from New York seeing you and getting the wrong impression." I was completely heartbroken and didn't argue anymore. I dialed a number I hadn't made in 15 years: "Principessa?" "It's me," I said, my voice steady. "Tell those old fossils on the Council... Isabella Corleone is coming home."

I, Ginny Tremaine, have a written agreement in my mate contract with Tyler Kingsley, the chairman of the Werewolf Council. As long as I proposed to him 99 times first, he promised to personally show up at the Office of Werewolf Mate Affairs on the 100th time and complete our marking ceremony. However, Tyler doesn't show up on the promised day and instead appears on the main stage of the Silvernight Music Festival with his lover, Vivian Lowe. In the livestream watched by the entire pack, he leans down and kisses her so intimately that it's practically a declaration of ownership. The social media networks instantly erupt with excitement. "#ChairmanOfTheWerewolfCouncilOfficiallyRevealsMate." "Chairman of the Werewolf Council caught kissing his lover and showing PDA." At the same time, I become a trending search for standing in front of the Mate Affairs office for the 100th time. Everyone speculates about the identity of the mystery man who never showed up and wonders if I will try for a 101st proposal. Tyler, likely feeling guilty, promises me the next day, "Next time, I promise I'll be there on time." He arrives in a crisp suit with papers in hand, standing outside the Mate Affairs office. But all he receives is a short message from me, saying, "Alpha Tyler, there won't be a 101st proposal. We're truly over."

My daughter was being slandered at the werewolf aristocratic high school. The other party threatens my daughter, saying that her father, one of the most powerful Alphas in the territory, will soon have my daughter kicked out of school. But the father they called for backup turned out to be my mate, Derek. When I saw Emma, her hair was a mess, her clothes disheveled and torn, with tear stains still fresh on her face. My heart ached. Rage surged through me. Across from us stood a glamorous she-wolf, her chin lifted high with arrogance. "So what if my daughter slandered yours? Look at what you're wearing. You're nothing but poor Omega wolves." The girl who had spread rumors about my daughter was equally brazen. "My father is a major shareholder of this academy. If you dare defy me, I can have trash like you expelled in minutes!" But the father who arrived in a luxury SUV to back them up, dressed in an expensive tailored suit—wasn't that my mate Derek? When Derek saw Emma and me, he frowned, clearly surprised. I let out a cold laugh. "Derek, so you have another family and another daughter now?"

In my fifth year of marriage to the Don of a powerful mafia family, I find out that the protection charm he gave me causes me headaches whenever I bring it with me. As a surgeon, this raised my alarm. I retrieved the small sachets I had found inside the amulet and brought them to the toxicology lab at Kosley Hospital.. The doctor inspects the sachet and tells me that it contains a type of slow-acting poison that doesn't just cause harm to the victim's body but also renders them infertile after a while. I cry and exclaim, "But that's impossible! My husband gave this to me! His name is Vincenzo Cursley. He's also the person who owns this hospital!" The doctor looks at me in confusion. "Miss, please stop the nonsense. I know Mr. Cursley and his wife. They're very close and intimate with each other. Also, Mrs. Cursley just gave birth to a baby boy not too long ago. They're both now in the VIP ward, looking at their baby." Then, the doctor shows me a photo on his phone. Vincenzo was wearing his usual black suit with the Cursley family emblem embroidered on it. He was holding a baby in his arms, and as for the woman standing next to him… I know her. Her name is Claudia Henderson. And Vincenzo has always referred to her as his adoptive sister.

I was only eleven when my life changed. My parents were gone, and my innocence was taken away. I grew up in a world where danger wore a suit and love felt like power. I learned to guard myself. But nothing prepared me for him, Lorenzo Vitalio. He is my guardian’s stepbrother. He watched me grow up. He is the man I shouldn’t want. Yet he is the only one I do. He’s 32, and I’m 20. The age difference is wrong. The feelings? Right—so painfully right that it hurts. I’ve loved him for as long as I’ve known what love is. But to him, I was just the girl he had to protect, not the woman he could claim. So I did what any heartbroken girl would do—I pushed him away. I made him notice me. I broke rules, crossed boundaries, and opened up the cracks in both of us. Just when I thought I’d finally lost him, he came back. Now the question is, can love survive the burden of secrets, danger, and years of denial? Or am I doomed to suffer for a man who knows how to protect but not how to love? This is the story of Evelyn Rose and Lorenzo Vitalio. A love too forbidden to begin. Too deep to end. And far too reckless to ignore.

Julian Ashford, the golden boy of the city's elite, had his left leg broken by his father with a golf club -- all because of me, a scholarship student. He was stripped of his billion-dollar inheritance and cast out of the family. For three years, he dragged that ruined leg around an auto repair shop, doing backbreaking labor just to scrape together enough for my college tuition. Everyone said I was the luckiest girl alive -- that I'd brought the untouchable heir of a financial empire to his knees, made him willing to live on scraps in the worst part of town. Today was our three-year anniversary. I was carrying the freshly signed Holloway Group inheritance confirmation documents, ready to finally tell him my real identity and pull him out of this misery. I walked down the corridor of The Grand Pavilion, holding a box of vanilla shortbread -- his favorite. Through the half-open door of a private suite, Julian Ashford stood tall on two perfectly healthy legs, dressed in an immaculate tailored suit, sliding a rare pink diamond ring onto the finger of Victoria Sterling -- the city's most celebrated socialite. "Victoria, I used that scholarship girl as a shield to survive three years of my old man's relentless arranged marriage schemes. My body's completely untouched. You've always been the one I was going to marry." I looked down at my own hands, cracked and raw from the cold, and tore the inheritance documents to shreds.

As I lean into the arms of my sexy gym trainer, I randomly come across a forum post that displays my home's coordinates in its IP address. "Everyone, what should I do if I've accidentally ruined my boss' husband's luxurious custom-fitted suit when I was washing it earlier? I'm just an assistant, so there's no way I can afford to pay for it!" At first glance, I can tell that the post is made by Archie Carter, the personal assistant of Valerie Henderson, whom I've married via a marriage alliance. Someone leaves a scathing comment in the post. "What else can you do? Cough up the payment, of course! What's the point in making this post?" "You call yourself an assistant when in reality, you're nothing but a pretentious phony! You think you can get away with making mistakes just by crying about how poor you are?" Archie quickly replies, "I wanted to compensate for the damages, but when Ms. Henderson found out about it, she already made me 'compensate' using other methods. I used the whole night to pay the price, you know!" One can only imagine how wild the night could have been for Valerie and Archie. I just laugh before sharing the post to my admirers' group chat. "Whoever can knock off Henderson Group's stock price by five points gets to replace that useless wife of mine."

I've been in a secret relationship with Declan Gibson for five years, and I've tried to seduce him more times than I can count. Yet, when I stand in front of him in my birthday suit and a pair of bunny ears, all he does is worry that I'll catch a cold and wrap me in a blanket. I used to think his restraint came from being the mafia don, that he was saving our first time for our wedding night. However, one month before the ceremony, he secretly plans the city's grandest fireworks show to celebrate his childhood sweetheart's birthday. They hug and share a slice of cake in public. That night, they check into a hotel. … The next morning, I watch them leave together. That's when I realize Declan is not restrained. He just doesn't love me, so I walk out of the hotel. I call my parents. "Dad, I've broken up with Declan. I'll marry into the Sullivan family as planned." My father is stunned. "I thought you were madly in love with Declan. Why did you break up? I heard Bryson can't have children. You've always loved kids. What will you do once you marry him?" "It's fine," I reply, disheartened. "We can always adopt."

Two hundred and twelve dollars. That is all I have to my name. I moved to Miami to save my ruined journalism career. Instead, I ended up sweating inside a forty-pound foam hockey mascot suit just to pay my rent and keep my press credentials alive. Then came the home opener. One empty locker room. Three dangerously elite men. Lucian Voss, the ruthless head coach with eyes like ice. Gavin Steele, the heavily tattooed, quietly terrifying goalie. Zane Cole, the arrogant star forward with a lethal smile. It was supposed to be a catastrophic, one-time mistake. A lapse in judgment I could bury forever. But now, I am staring at a positive test. Triplets. I thought the pregnancy was my biggest problem. I thought I could just walk away. But when a scandal threatens to expose me, these three men do not panic. They do not run. Overnight, they spend nine figures to buy the entire professional hockey franchise. They become my bosses. They lock every exit, terminate my old contracts, and slip a massive diamond onto my shaking finger. I thought they were doing it to protect their unborn children. I thought it was about the scandal. I was wrong. "There were no babies three weeks ago, Malia," Gavin whispers, cornering me in their private penthouse. "We bought the team so no other man could look at you. You were already ours."