Vader Upgraded Suit

With a small thump, the seat beside the solitary guy became occupied. “Yo.” “Hi.” “Want a gum?” “No.” “Suit yourself.” “Hmm.”

A night of being drunk had gotten her entangled with the most desired bachelor. The handsome sexy Chris Evans. Ivy had only planned to have fun but After that night, she had become his. Chris Evans had come knocking on her door, claiming she belongs to him. She couldn't believe she had been drawn into the world of the elite in the country. Chris was born with a silver spoon but at 27, he had upgraded to a shiny golden spoon. He was a big name in the world of the rich. The world of the highest and richest. On that list, he was number one. No one comes close to him. Chris had lost his control for the first time in his life and that was because of a drunk girl in a red gown. That had never happened which means, she belonged to him and no one else. He had to have her at all costs and that meant, taking her... What would happen when she jumps into a relationship faster than she had planned and the attraction keeps getting stronger? How would they control the urge?

Contents of this story includes explicit sex scenes, and if it doesn't suit you, avoid reading! Tales of iniquity draws you closer to the sex life of the characters in the book. Including- BL, GL, MM, BB and all manner of forbidden romance. Beware!

Spending the last night of my vacation by partying and drinking into oblivion was the highlight of my master plan. Waking up, in my birthday suit and tangled up in the sheets with a sinfully handsome stranger was definitely not. Curious? Then I have to disclose about how I met him in the first place. Beware, you are all in for one hell of a delicious ride.

What can a mother do for the sake of her daughter? " Take it off, your suit!", Asher summoned Max when he accidentally splash water on her uniform. "What?---I---ahhh--", she stuttered. Max has no escape. How can she do it if she's not a guy? Read to find out more.

I was born with a strange condition. I couldn't recognize faces and could only identify people by their clothes. Vincent Lancaster, my boyfriend, never minded. He said it didn't change the way he loved me. That was, until our wedding day. He answered a phone call. His childhood friend, Grace Langley, was in labor, life hanging by a thread, and she demanded he come immediately. My voice shook with despair. "Vincent! If you drive away now, we'll never be husband and wife!" But he left anyway, not looking back. Grace had always loved seeing him in white, so he threw aside the black suit I had sewn for him with my own hands and changed into white. A year later, Vincent returned. By then, my belly was swollen with life, and I was holding onto another man while hosting a baby shower. And the man wore the black suit Vincent had thrown away. Vincent went mad, claiming he was my husband, but no one believed him.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

Attending the ten-year high school reunion for the cheerleading squad and football team, I arrived in an old domestic Ford, while the parking lot was filled with Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Maybachs, and even a gold Bugatti. It was as if I were the only relic from another era. The moment I stepped out of my car, a former classmate, whose name I could no longer remember, looked at me with a sneer. “Well, if it isn’t the coach’s pet. How is it that after all these years, you’re still driving this beat-up old Ford?” “This thing looks like it belongs in a scrapyard from the last century!” During dinner, everyone gathered around the Bugatti owner, raising their glasses in celebration, while I was left ignored at the side. Only the cheerleading assistant sat next to me, raising a glass in my direction with a comforting smile. “Don’t let it get to you. Your car may be old, but I believe you’ll be driving a luxury car one day.” I let a small smirk curl at the corner of my lips and lowered my voice. “This car may look unimpressive, but it’s been fully upgraded with a carbon fiber body. It’s already worth over half a million dollars. Too bad, none of you even recognized its true value.”

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

Who is Eren? "My bodyguard." ~ Being the daughter of the wealthiest man of the town can be more problematic than one thinks. When a bunch of menaces frighten the Aiyer, a bodyguard is called to order. But he is not the typical bodyguard. No suit, no earpiece. Just a thick black leather jacket with grey jeans and black boots. But little does Hayat know who he is really. ~A refreshing, hot and romantic novel with a touch of mystery to sparkle your feelings~ Warning: Mature contents