Peters New Suit Novels & Stories

"I didn’t know I was marrying two people. He wore the suit, but she pulled the strings. The day I walked down the aisle, eyes locked with the man I loved, I thought I had found peace. I thought I was finally leaving behind the noise of my childhood, the ache of loneliness, and the years I spent praying for a love that would choose me, only me. But no one told me that some men never truly leave their mothers. They marry, yes,but their hearts remain tangled in an invisible umbilical cord, one that stretches past vows, past bedrooms, past boundaries. I moved into our new home, only to find that the walls had ears, hers. We lived in separate flats, but it never truly felt like my space. My marriage was a room she walked into, uninvited but ever present. Her opinions dripped into our arguments, her eyes followed me from behind lace curtains, and her voice echoed in decisions that should have belonged to me and my husband. At first, I kept quiet. I told myself it was cultural. Respect. Family. Then I told myself it was temporary. Then I stopped telling myself anything at all, because nothing I said made a difference. This is not a story of hate. It’s a story of love, tested by bloodlines, boundaries, and a battle I never asked to fight. This is my truth. The marriage I thought was mine. The home that never really felt like home. And the rules I never agreed to, but had to live by, simply because… I was under her roof".

On the day I rejected Isabelle Hale, Wall Street's newest golden girl, everyone thought I had lost my mind. She had everything: a Wharton degree, a national finance championship, a perfect family name, and a résumé polished enough to make doors open before she even knocked. But I knew what was hiding behind that name. Fifty years ago, her grandfather stole my grandmother's acceptance letter, her New York scholarship, and the future she had earned with her own hands. He used them to escape an Appalachian coal town with another woman, then built himself into a celebrated Ivy League professor who lectured rich students about ethics. My real grandmother, Grace Walker, was left behind in coal dust and shame. My mother grew up carrying the weight of that stolen life. They lifted me out anyway. I made it all the way to Manhattan, to a glass conference room at Northbridge Capital, where Isabelle sat across from me in a black suit tailored like victory. She thought her family name would protect her. She thought I would bow. Instead, I closed her file and said, "You didn't pass." By the next morning, they had fired me, dragged my name through the mud, and turned a press conference into my public trial. They forgot one thing. I didn't climb to the top of Wall Street to beg for a seat at their table. I came to take back every name, every chance, and every voice they stole from women like us.

My husband, Don Cassian, just survived an assassination attempt. He limped in, bleeding, and ordered me to stitch him up. But when I reached into his blood-soaked suit, my fingers brushed against something soft. Black lace panties. Not mine. My hand flew to my still-flat stomach. For our child. How could he do this to us? Ice flooded my veins. “We’re done, Cassian.” His gaze was heavy, exhausted. He gave a single, sharp nod. “Fine. I’ll have my lawyer draft the papers.” But then, a frantic little voice—one that wasn't mine—screamed from deep within my womb. [Mom, don’t leave him! Dad didn’t cheat! The family isn’t going to fall. It’s a setup!] [Oriana Gallo planned all of this! She wants your place! She put those panties in his pocket herself!] [If you leave, her men will grab you. They’ll take you to an abandoned warehouse and dump your body in Lake Michigan. Then she’ll play the grieving friend, comfort Dad, and become the new Mrs. Marino!] [Mom, I came back to stop this! Please, don’t fall for it again!] I snapped back to the present. Spinning around, I launched myself into Cassian's arms, my body wracked with sobs. “I was just trying to scare you! How could you agree so easily? Are you that tired of me?” I jabbed a finger at his chest, tears streaming down my face.

An angel's face once graced Amira Angelyn Fabian. The greatest suit for a holy living lady is her, but only until her ex-lover transforms her into someone she is not. She developed more grit as she focused on what would benefit her the most. She rose to the status of becoming the most significant entrepreneur, surpassing her ex title. In the line of her successful career, Amira encountered him again: Giovanni Rossi, her ex-lover who broke her heart three years ago. Amira doesn't want to take revenge, but seeing how he was still like in those old days, Amira is ragingly seeking a way of getting the table turned.

EMILIANA                  It was supposed to be a simple wedding. Marry the old fucker then while he's busy trying to get in my pants, stick a knife in his throat. And if anyone asks... I'm pretty sure I would have come up with something believable. I mean, how hard is it for someone his age to have a heart attack or trip and fall onto a knife. Right? But then in the middle of the wedding, this hot guy shows up in a bloody Armani suit, like covered in blood from head to toe, kills the man I'm supposed to marry and takes his place. What the fuck? Seriously, What the actual fuck? TROPES; Arranged marriage, forced proximity, he falls first, crazy FL, your daily amount of steam and HEA.

At my wedding, my wife’s bodyguard was wearing the same suit as me. He was standing to one side. When I was saying my vows, he suddenly stepped forward and slapped me. I covered my face and looked at my wife, Amelie. She looked calm, as if she knew this would happen. Seeing that she was not reacting, the bodyguard smirked and slapped me again. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. The guests below the stage were flabbergasted, even as rage burned within me. “Call the police!” “You can’t call the police!” Amelie finally said. My parents also suddenly shouted, “No one is allowed to call the police. Anyone who does would be opposing the Bennet family!”

Every time I miscarry, Adrian Sadler brings home a new woman who eerily resembles his first love. He makes me put the rubber on him, forces me to watch their fevered passion, and then orders me to bring warm water for their intimate cleanup. I do everything I'm told, begging for just one night a month with him. That is, until I accidentally tear his favorite lover Peggy Olson's lingerie. That night, Adrian streams my humiliation for the world to see. He drags me onto the bed, twists my body to expose me fully to the camera, and pins me beneath an avalanche of shame. "Did you think her lingerie was suggestive? What about now? Look at yourself. Do you think you are any better? You love crawling into my bed, don't you? I'll help you get your fill. Maybe one man isn't enough to satisfy you. Why don't I call in ten men tomorrow?" As punishment, Adrian throws me outside, in my birthday suit, in the courtyard. Blood slowly pools beneath me. I experience my tenth miscarriage. I look for Derek Sadler and say, "I promised to help your family to repay your kindness. I tried my best. Ten miscarriages later, whatever blessing I once had is gone. I'll never have children again. Today, I've come to say goodbye."

I, Adriana Butterton, rejec-” the words barely left my lips before they attacked. Like a beast hunting a prey Tyler grips my throat cutting off sounds from producing before digging his fangs into my neck. Ryler follows suit sinking his fangs into the other side of my neck. “No, let go!!!” I scream, thrashing my feet beneath them, tears blurring my vision.They just signed their death. **Adriana Butterton, a young wolf who ran away from home after her father disowned her in favour of her step sister. Now hiding away in a whole new pack, the last thing she expects is to meet her mate. Or should I say mates?The two most powerful Alpha in the whole five packs residing in America, Tyler and his twin, Ryler Chase. Scared for their lives she resorts to rejecting them, something they don't accept. Forcing both their marks on her. But they don't know what she knows. They don't know that any man who tries to claim her dies. The head of her ex buried four feet under the earth can attest to that. Now they have marked her when she already belongs to another. Death is coming after them yet they have no idea. Betrayal, pain, love, heart break, and death seeks to break them apart. Will they ever be able to outrun death or worse overcome it? Or will the same fate that befall her ex become theirs too? What exactly claimed her or is it who?

Takuto Kimura, 30 years old, a career elite, always dressed in a sharp suit, with his hair perfectly neat, looking like the lead character from《The Godfather》or《Yakuza Chronicles》. His daily life is a never-ending "battle": meetings, overtime, coffee to stay awake, and piles of reports. To outsiders, he is the epitome of a successful businessman, but inside, he's already overwhelmed by the pressure and suffocating under it. Every day, he finds himself thinking, "If only I could go back to being three years old, I wouldn’t have to deal with these damn files and KPIs." One late night, as he stares at his computer screen, drowning in self-doubt, fate suddenly gives him an unexpected "opportunity" “He is reborn, back to the age of three.”

"I love you, I really really do~ please marry me" I closed my eyes in fear as I kneeled in front of the devil itself who had his hands warped around the female lead. The next thing I knew I stood in the wedding hall wearing the white suit while in front of the Villain itself putting the ring on my finger. "Now I declare you as husband and hu-husband? you may kill your husband" It was supposed to be a straight Otome game where I was supposed to be dead while saving the FL. But here and I married to the villain itself. "WHEN DID IT TURN INTO BL?" I don't own the cover as I just did the editing of the art and credit goes to its owner