Wedding Suit Bowser Novels & Stories

But it was what Susan had insisted on—a private event for close family and a few trusted friends, and thankfully, Leo had agreed without a single argument or question. He stood at the altar, his dark suit impeccably tailored, his tie a crisp navy blue. He looked as if he belonged on the cover of a magazine, his sharp features and commanding presence drawing every gaze. Yet his usual stoic demeanor betrayed a hint of nervousness as he adjusted his cufflinks — the ones Susan had given him, for the third time. Asher, standing by his side as his best man, smirked. “You’re fidgeting, boss,” Asher said under his breath.

Maybe that’s why I wanted to do it—for him, or maybe for myself. The manager folded her hands. “Would you like to add anything bespoke? Custom tailoring, perhaps?” I paused. “Yes.” Her eyes lit. “What did you have in mind?” “A suit. Charcoal, fine wool, sharp cut. Nothing trendy.” “Very good, Miss Bailey.” “And…” I hesitated. “A formal barong as well.” She blinked, then recovered. “For the wedding?” I met her eyes. “For his collection.” She bowed. “Of course.”

"Ladies, out. Now." I stood up, stretching my arms as the girls quickly gathered their things and scurried out of the penthouse. "You need to take this seriously, Alex. It's your wedding," James said, his voice dropping into a rare serious tone. "I know, James," I groaned. I walked over to the closet and pulled out the custom Tom Ford tuxedo I was supposed to wear. It was a sharp, midnight-black suit with satin lapels, paired with a crisp white shirt and a silk bow tie. It looked elite, ruthless, and completely devoid of any real joy. Just like this marriage.

As we made our way to the field to find our seats, my mate was snatched from my side. I growled for half a second ready to knock someone out. But all my territorial rage fizzled out when I saw it was André swinging my mate around in a hug. He remains the most over-the-top person I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. Because only André would show up at another Alpha’s wedding, let alone one he’d never met before, wearing a royal blue velvet suit with bold silver and blue embroidered floral pattern on the jacket and a bow tie. “ISIS! Finally, a face I know! And of course, adore.” André exclaimed, finally putting her down.

I indifferently said. Christopher's face twisted—first red, then white. He hurled the rose back at me like garbage. "Have you had enough, Scarlett?" Anthony scowled as he charged toward me. "The wedding's on Sunday. If you're planning to make a scene again in front of all these people, don't blame me if I cancel it."

the boss screamed at the top of his lungs. Great, so his name is Hayden. Not only have I never met my husband-to-be before, I didn’t even know his name. I also haven’t seen a photo of him and so I didn’t know what he looked like. Not that I was interested. If I had no choice but to marry him anyways, what difference does it make whether he’s as handsome as a prince or as ugly as a beast. The boss turned around and started waving his gun at the rows upon rows upon rows of men dressed head to toe in back suits, the standard uniform of the mafia it seems.

she asked Luis for his opinion. The man nodded curtly. "According to me?" Luis ensure, and the woman nodded. "Good! As long as you like it, I'll like it too. Use what makes you comfortable, because I want our wedding tomorrow to go according to plan and I don't want to see you feel uncomfortable because of the wedding dress itself!" said Luis advising so that the woman remembers it. And then, that male designer looked at Luis to confirm something. "And as for the groom's suit, do you already have it?" the man asked.

As it turned out, she was far more interested in the wedding shopping than I was. "He's going to wear a suit, don't you think?" she asked as she ran her fingers through row after row of wedding gowns in the bridal boutique we'd gone to. "Not a tuxedo." "I don't know." It hadn't even occurred to me to ask him. "I think a suit. And since it's in Italy, it should be something classic with lace. Oh—and a little sexy, too." "Nothing sexy. That's not me," I said.

Hang them from the ceiling like chandeliers. Our tuxes are plain black and white. Aspen didn't even give me a cool colorful bowtie. There is nothing in this wedding to showcase how badass my best friend is. Of course besides the ten or so chairs in the audience section, and the ten of us who will soon be standing on the stage, I guess everyone in the room knows who he is.

"Okay, that's enough. It was all just a misunderstanding. We've already apologized. Just let it go. What's important is completing the wedding ceremony." Nadia hid behind Bowen and only came out looking all aggrieved once everything had settled. She pouted and said, "Fine. I'll let you off without kneeling and apologizing for Bowie's sake. I came to congratulate him on his wedding, but now I've ended up as the villain." I pointed to the stairs leading down the stage and said indifferently, "If you're done talking, then get off the stage. This is my wedding." "I'm not done yet!" Nadia snapped, turning around to show half her face while still snug in Bowen's embrace.