Zero Suit Samus Thicc

She, betrayed by her ex-boyfriend and her family, had to marry a bastard of the Alpha of a powerful pack as a substitute for her sister, and that guy was known as a good-for-nothing. He established his own pack and business from zero but had to marry a woman he didn't love at all to fulfill his mother's last wish. She was a werewolf with the defect of not having her wolf. But she had a divine heart and only wanted to save Maci and be free. He was a mystery and aloof Alpha. He hid his identity and lied to get rid of her as soon as possible. It was just a nominal marriage at the beginning, but what happened next was beyond everyone's expectations. Before, he said to his subordinate, "Don't be nice to her. She will never be your Luna." Afterwards, he said, "I want the whole world to know that she is my Luna." Fate had already bound them together when they were born. The Moon Goddess had blessed them when they didn't even realize it.

From a stall in the office restroom, I overhear someone badmouthing me. Henry Fielder, the intern I've been mentoring for three months, grumbles, "The guy's got zero people skills. He's a total fossil, like a robot stuck in one mode." I'm about to push the door open and jump in when someone laughs and piles on. "The paperwork is incomplete. The receipts aren't compliant. I can't reimburse it without a manager's signature. We could recite his canned empathy lines in our sleep!" Once they're gone, I quietly head back to my office. Later, Henry drops a thick stack of expense reports onto my desk. "Quit waving the rulebook and rejecting everyone's reimbursements." I skim the fake receipts, and for once, I don't call him out. Instead, I give a thin smile and say, "I have a headache. I can't make out the words."

Three years of marriage. One contract. Zero kisses. Lira Hart, rising actress and media sweetheart, has been married to cold, enigmatic billionaire Damian Blackwood for three long, loveless years. Their union was forged not from love, but from a contract signed by their powerful families. While the world envied her last name, Lira knew the truth: he never wanted her. Never touched her. Never looked at her like she mattered. Until the night she asked for a divorce. Suddenly, the man who never cared is showing up on her film sets, making headlines with unexpected kisses, and whispering things that sound dangerously like regret. But Lira’s heart isn’t something she’s willing to gamble anymore, not after three years of being invisible in his world. Can a man who locked his heart away learn how to love the woman who’s already slipping through his fingers? Or is this billionaire three years too late?

I was doted to the bone by the mafia heir, Leonardo — he took bullets for me, endured 99 lashes, and promised to take me to see the Southern Sea that never freezes! But he let Zoe get pregnant with his child. He accused me of causing Ella’s pollen allergy, and even gave the only keepsake left by my mother — a bracelet — to Zoe as an apology. He said, "It’s just a bracelet." During an argument, he shoved me down, causing my head to bleed, yet he rushed to the hospital with Zoe, not even bothering to look back at me. I lay in the hospital getting stitches, and his suit still carried Zoe’s perfume. He yelled at me, "You followed me to the hospital to cause trouble!" My heart shattered, yet he still lied to me, "I only love you. After this fake wedding, I’ll take you away!"

When a predator becomes the prey… Alejandro Cortes was born into violence. As the heir to the infamous Cortes mafia family, he grew into something worse. Someone who bathes in the blood of his enemies yet with precision. A devil in a tailored suit feared across Italy. Ruthless. Untouchable. A man who ruled through blood and terror. Yet even devils have weaknesses. For Alejandro it was not his wife. It was his daughter. Nikolai Vassilliou built his empire differently. Not by any inheritance, but by hunger. By betrayal. By carving his name into the underworld through sheer brutality. Two monsters ruling two empires. Then one mistake changed everything. A hit meant for Alejandro’s wife ended with his daughter dead. Now Nikolai sits chained in a cold concrete cell. Broken, bleeding and at the mercy of a grieving father. The predator who once hunted… has finally become the prey. But revenge has a way of turning hatred into something far more dangerous.

The wedding had barely started when the lights went out. Then came the moans—from the giant screen behind the altar. Hailey froze. Her skin went ghost-pale. Her whole body shook. A beat later, the doors slammed open. Leading the charge? Nolan. Cold eyes, sharp suit, and bodyguards in tow. He stormed the stage. The groom tried to stop him. Big mistake. Nolan's guys dropped him in seconds. Nolan grabbed a fistful of the groom's hair and yanked his head back. "Heh. I've slept with Hailey hundreds—maybe thousands—of times. Used condoms alone could fill your house. Wanna see the HD vids?" Hailey's eyes locked on Nolan, pure hate. She'd been his kept woman for eight years. He loathed her family. He loathed her. Swore she'd never know peace. Then she disappeared—and he lost his mind.

After completing my studies overseas, it's time for me to marry Cynthia Norton, my childhood sweetheart. But on the day I'm supposed to pick up the wedding tuxedo, I see my tuxedo, which is a custom-ordered suit that's worth a million dollars, being worn by Theodore Hasting, the low-income student Cynthia is currently sponsoring. When I demand that the tuxedo be returned, I get called the homewrecker instead. People even mock me for being a boy toy who wants to take the shortcut by clinging to a rich woman. Cynthia tells me Theodore has never experienced wearing a wedding tuxedo before, so she wants me to graciously give him the chance. I like doing charity work the most. Since I can give a million-dollar wedding tuxedo away, I should just give the marriage contract away too. Then again, not anyone can simply accept the marriage contract meant for me, the heir of the Emerson family.

On our fifth anniversary, Henry Judd—the guy who once swore he'd propose—rented out an entire mall for Cecilia Cheape's birthday. A diamond the size of a pigeon's egg sparkled on her finger. I'd been dumb enough to think it was meant for me. "Cece, I'm gonna give you a birthday you'll never forget," he announced, loud enough for the whole world to hear. Then he yanked the tab off a soda can and handed it to me. "Lulu, those gaudy things don't suit you. You deserve something unique." He slid the can tab onto my finger—his version of a proposal. Cecilia got the dream birthday. I got a piece of trash and a slap of reality. Later, when he found out I was marrying someone else, he got down on one knee with that same ring and begged me to say yes.

Clayton Amos finally agrees to marry me during my fifth year as the antagonist of a novel. On the day of my wedding, the chandelier in the middle of the hall suddenly snaps and falls. At the most critical moment, he shoves me aside and runs over to protect Gladys Dawson, the protagonist of the novel, and his first love. Clayton's arm is slashed as a result, and blood pours out of the wound, dyeing his pristine white suit red. Meanwhile, Gladys remains unharmed in his arms. I hold a hand against the bleeding wound on my neck and finally accept the fact that Clayton never loved me. This is when the system appears and asks me, "Hailey Paltrow, would you like to abort your mission now?" I nod in silent response. "Since he's going to end up losing all four of his limbs and ultimately wish for death, I'll let him have it."

My marriage to Dante, the Moretti heir, was meant to be a union of power, an alliance of empires. But for me, it was also the real deal. Then his adopted sister, Clara, showed up at a party. She was wearing his custom leather jacket, straddling his prized Ducati, and she looked right at me with a smirk. "Dante says," she purred, "that I suit these precious things better than you do." My smile froze. Dante had her on a plane overseas so fast it was like she'd never existed. Five years later, the night before our wedding. I found him staring at the design for our wedding rings. He'd changed the engraving. The "Amor Aeternus"—Eternal Love—was gone. In its place: "Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa." My sin, my greatest sin. I took off my veil right then and there. "The wedding," I said, my voice like ice, "is off."