Villain Suits Novels & Stories

I turned around to stare directly into his eyes, which looked cryptic under the dim light. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I am not Annika Summers. I am Vivian Cunningham, your wife. Remember?" I said sarcastically before running out of the closet. I did my best to hold back my tears and not cry in front of him, but my emotional armor shattered as soon as I rushed into the room and locked myself inside. It was just a mistake, a drunken mistake. Nothing else. What did I expect? Of course, he's still in love with his little bird. Of course, he didn't want me.

She was given a shot at what love and romance can be with a villain. A villain who offered her the contract she cannot reject. The very person who is sleeping soundly against her chest. The man named Navier. When novels and stories established that bad guys can fool you for their angelic looks and irresistible charms, they were not kidding about it at all. Now, dating the villain does not seem so bad... or does it?

“I spot another suit, this time around, brown. I take a photo of it and send to Alpha Killian. Three dots dance in the inbox as he types his response and seconds later, it comes. “Why do I have the impression that you are intent on dressing me like a hobo on that day? Are you trying to sabotage my chances of finding a wife for myself?” I smile and roll my eyes at the same time as I prepare to type my response. The girls still look very confused. They must be wondering who I’m sending pictures of the suits to. If they know it’s their almighty Lord Alpha I’m messing around with, they’d probably maim me on his behalf. “I don’t know which colors you like.” “Stick to black and navy-blue, Willow.”

"The cup came from my own brother's house. Your uncle Rick poured the poison into the bottle on the third night of the warm-current season. He chose a vintage I drank only on private suppers because he wanted my death to look like grief had finally caught me." "The boy you love is his tool. Liam has been lying with his shoulders since before he asked for your hand. He was never the architect of this, daughter. He was the instrument. He is the dagger your uncle has been sharpening for three years and you are the wedding it was forged for." "The girl is yours. Your cousin Rose has been his lover for as long as he has been your suitor. She does not love him. She loves being chosen. He never qui

Tall frame, dark hair, an expensive, tailored suit. I approached the table, my heels clicking on the marble floor. "Mr. Costello?" He turned, and the air left my lungs. It wasn't just that he was handsome—he was lethal. A jaw that could cut glass, eyes the color of deadly jade, and the predatory stillness of a panther in a bespoke suit. But it wasn't just his looks that stopped me cold. I knew this man. No, more accurately, I knew of him. Vince talked about this man all the time, always with a mix of fear and hatred.

Awakening Shadows “I didn’t expect to see you here, little wolf.” The voice slithers across my skin like icy silk, rapidly lifting the small hairs along my neck. I look up from the vendor contracts scattered over the glass conference table and feel my stomach twist into knots. Damien Voss stands in the entryway of the events suite, framed by the late afternoon sun slanting through the panoramic windows. He’s clothed in a dark blue suit that molds to his tall, strong figure like a second skin. His hair is nicely groomed, streaked artistically with silver around the temples. His beautiful blue eyes glitter with pleasure as they skim over me.

"Just give me the clothes, you old pervert." I pulled out the suit. It was a dark slate gray, impeccably tailored, and felt impossibly soft against my skin. As I put it on, it fit perfectly, complementing my complexion. Vlad had a knack for picking out clothes that made me look good, a strange domesticity in our otherwise chaotic arrangement.

Both of them exchanged pleasantries in that dark, precise way only enemies forced to coexist could. Their smiles didn’t reach their eyes, but their words were sharp, and full of hidden venom. I could see it now, these two didn’t like each other. Not one bit. But both knew it was unnecessary to bring their misunderstandings to the public. And then I noticed Victor fully. My breath caught in my throat. He was wearing a suit that fit him like it had been custom made for every inch of his body. The midnight blue fabric shimmered faintly under the restaurant lights, the cut sharp, the shoulders perfect, the waist cinched just right.

he invited her. She stroked her fingers across him making an excited face to the camera. “Oh, so nice,” she winked at the camera lasciviously. “The suit fabric too. Velvety.” “And Mirage is wearing ASin by Peter Cordelia,” he continued. “Victor and I almost kept her home - she looks so good,” he gave the cameras a wicked grin. “I believe it is a fine metal mesh over a base that has been matched to her skin tone.” “Aren’t you well informed!” The reported flirted.

The door pushed inward, groaning softly on its hinges. The ambient light from the hallway spilled into the dark bedroom, completely illuminating the towering, broad-shouldered silhouette standing in the threshold. Stellan Vaughn looked like a casualty of a war. His bespoke suit jacket was gone. His white dress shirt was entirely ruined, unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with tight, vibrating tension. His dark hair was a messy, rain-soaked tangle, casting shadows over a face that was completely, terrifyingly bloodless.