Skel Suit Novels & Stories

Krystal Hugace is perfectly fine with her life. As her colleagues starts to get married and have their own families, she enjoys her free life being the successful designer that she is. Life is good. That is until she meets Christian Giannini –the CEO of the prominent and best steel exporter company of Ground Zeta– marching up to her office demanding for her to create the best pair of suit and wedding dress for his and his pregnant fiance's wedding. Krystal is not ready for this kind of commitment.

I overslept by six hours on my wedding day. By the time I got there, my fiancée, Yvonne Burke, had already gone through the entire ceremony with her ex, Tony Cooke. I stood there, drenched in sweat. Yvonne just smiled and came clean. "I was the one who drugged you. Tony wanted a wedding ceremony. It's not a big deal, so I gave him one." Like she was afraid I'd make a scene, she added, "Be good. Next week, I'll get the marriage certification with you. Besides, throwing a fit now won't change anything. Look—even if he takes off the suit, it still won't fit you." My eyes landed on the groom. The suit he was wearing was the one I'd spent nearly six months picking out. Everyone held their breath, waiting for me to lose it. Instead, I felt a wave of relief. She should've told me sooner. I'd already been having second thoughts. My ex once said that if I ever dared get married, she'd show up in a wedding dress and steal me away. Looks like everything worked out perfectly. We both got what we wanted.

By six, Amelia had whipped up a six-dish dinner with soup—Chad Felton's favorites, of course. By seven, she'd prepped his bath, complete with rose petals and candles. By eight, his slippers were perfectly lined up by the door. At nine, Chad finally strolled in. Amelia stepped up, taking his suit jacket. "Eat first or bathe?" she asked, setting the slippers in front of him and hanging the jacket. "Bathe," he muttered, eyes glued to his phone.

That winter, the Silver Moon Pack holds its annual ski hunt. An avalanche strikes without warning, and the three of us are trapped in a lift pod. There's only one thermal suit left. My mate, Ryan Mercer, gives the thermal suit to me. I survive, but his childhood sweetheart, Eve Hurst, is buried forever beneath the endless white of the mountain. No body is ever found. However, he gazes at me with devotion and says, "Celine Bartlett, you are the love of my life." I soak in those words, believing them. But I have no idea this is the beginning of my nightmare. For the next five years, he speaks to me only with cruelty. "You killed Eve. You're a murderer!" He locks me in the basement and whips me with lashes soaked in wolfsbane. Then, he pretends to show pity and feeds me with a silver fork. When I refuse, he stabs me with silver nails across my legs, carving deep red lines into my skin. "This is what you owe her, and you will repay it!" When I ask for a reject, he stabs a silver dagger into my chest, dragging me into death with him. When I open my eyes, I find myself back on the day of the avalanche. This time, I hand the survival gear to Eve without hesitation. This time, I owe her nothing. And now, I want to see whether they will get their happy ending without me around.

When Sylvia Reed postponed our wedding for the fifth time, I found a pregnancy test report in her bag and decided to force the issue. Then I saw a trending local post. A woman rolled up her sleeves, baking cookies. Beside her, a man bent down to tease a child. One look was enough. I recognized the scar on her wrist. It was in the exact same spot as the one Sylvia got years ago when she took a knife for me. The scarf draped over the man's shoulders was one I'd custom-made for Sylvia. Our initials were stitched into it. The sight burned. I thought about how Sylvia had been glued to her phone lately, and how I'd heard a baby crying through it. Ten minutes ago, she'd sent me a voice message. "Luke, something urgent came up at the company. I can't make it back to try on the suit with you. Maybe we should postpone the wedding again? Next year. We'll definitely do it next year." But I'd already waited seven years for this wedding. I took off my groom's suit and cut it to pieces. Then I wiped my eyes, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I hadn't called in seven years. "I'm short a bride for my wedding. Interested?"

The night before the wedding, the effects of the drug wore off. I woke up in the master bedroom of the estate to the sound of laughter. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw my custom-made suit being cut into strips by Jessica Solomon's male best friend, Chris Johnson. As he twirled a pair of scissors in his hand, he joked with the viewers on his livestream. "Man of the house? Please. He's lying there completely helpless. Anybody could do whatever they want to him." Jessica's friends burst into laughter and chimed in. "Jessica put sleeping pills in his milk herself. Anybody would've been knocked out cold." The livestream chat flooded with comments ridiculing me as the pathetic man marrying into a wealthy family, but Jessica simply watched with amusement and reached over to ruffle Chris' hair. "Feeling better now? Be good and end the livestream. If he wakes up and causes a scene, tomorrow's wedding will be a mess." Only after everyone left did Jessica sit down beside the bed and pull the blanket over me. "Chris is depressed. He can't handle being upset. We'll deal with this later. "I've already arranged for a replacement suit to be flown in overnight on a private jet. Honestly, that one suits you better anyway." My fingers tightened around the bedsheet. Silently, I sent a message to Katie Everton. [I'm not getting married. Does what you said before still stand?]

Julian Silas is a man living as a shadow. After the suspicious death of his father, a legendary royal jeweler, Julian’s treacherous stepfather seized the family’s prestigious workshop, forcing Julian into a life of clandestine labor. While his stepbrothers parade around high society in Julian’s designs, Julian remains locked in the cellar forge, known to the world only as a common servant. His only connection to his true identity is a pair of heirloom cufflinks—exquisite silver swans bearing the "Cigna," a secret mark used by his ancestors to authenticate their greatest works. Across the capital, Queen Althea is fighting a war of her own. Her advisors are pressuring her to enter a loveless political alliance to stabilize the crown. Defiant, she hosts a grand masquerade, declaring that she will choose a consort based on character, not a pedigree curated by the council. When Julian arrives at the ball in a suit of his own tailoring, he and Althea share a night of genuine connection, discussing the beauty of creation and the weight of duty. But as the clock strikes midnight, a palace security breach forces Julian to flee. In his haste to scale the garden wall, one of his Cigna cufflinks is torn from his sleeve and falls into the dewy grass. The Queen finds the token, but rather than sending her guards to find a man who "fits the suit," she turns to her greatest strength: her intellect. She recognizes that the "Cigna" isn't just an ornament—it’s a Coded Sign.

When you're pregnant, your bf ghosted you immediately after you told him the news. Your brother's buddy, Albert, the alpha billionaire, stepped in and offered you a job as his personal secretary. Things got wild when you ran into your no-good bf again. He provoked you, and impulsively, you kissed Albert for revenge.Little did you know, Albert's fame meant that kiss was caught by a swarm of reporters. Right then, Albert dropped to one knee in his sleek suit and reached out his hand. "My dear, will you marry me?"

I had just returned from the world's largest tech summit when my mentor called. She has always been like a mother to me. She told me she had arranged a marriage for me, with the daughter of a close friend of hers, Tania Jones. She was a rising talent in the capital's business scene, and a number of my patents were licensed to her company, forming the core technology behind their latest products. After working late in the lab, I changed into a carefully chosen suit and went to the engagement ceremony. However, I was stopped at the entrance by Elias Yates, Tania's personal assistant. He was wearing a perfectly tailored designer suit, every detail immaculate. He looked more like the groom than I did. "If you know what's good for you, walk away," he said with an icy smirk. "An orphan with no background should know his place. You are not worthy of Ms. Jones." I frowned and replied, "Does Tania know you are speaking on her behalf like this?" Elias let out a mocking laugh. "A kept man living off his mentor's reputation could never understand how important I am to Ms. Jones." There was obsession and pride shining in his eyes. I looked at him for a moment, then dialed Tania. "If this is your idea of welcoming your fiancé," I said evenly, "then perhaps my patents should only be shown to you on paper, right before I sell them to your rival instead."

Chassy Rayze Rivera, she's the girl who was once one of the happiest person on earth. Growing up doesn't seem to suit her, it slapped her. Now that's she's older all she wants is to feel happy again. One day, she met this kid on a park while resting on a bench. The kid offered to help her be happy. Since it was a kid who asked her, she thought it was just a childish question and didn't take it seriously and accepted the kid's offer. Little did she know that her life was going to change for a while because of an answer.