South Park Bunny

On the day I tried on my wedding dress, a stranger burst into the VIP fitting room and slashed me with a knife. She tore my dress to shreds, her face twisted with rage. "A gold-digger like you doesn't deserve a dress this expensive!" The blade, soaked in sulfuric acid, pierced my abdomen, and I collapsed in agony. She grabbed my hair and slapped me, snarling, "Clarence promised to marry me! You're nothing but a homewrecker!" Blood stained my gown as the truth hit me. My boyfriend of seven years had been cheating on me. "Keep staring, huh? My man runs this city. I could kill you, and no one would touch me!" she taunted, smug as hell. With bloodied hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed my brother. "Chris, come get me from the bridal shop. And tell the Thompsons the engagement is off."

Seven years into our marriage, Zane Grimes and I remained childless. He once held me close, his voice tender and earnest. "Don't overthink it. I've never cared for children. You're all I want in this life." But on the day his company went public, as the ceremonial bell echoed through the hall, the doors burst open. My sister stormed in, cradling a wailing infant. "Zane, this is your son! How can you abandon us?" Zane's face paled as he turned to me, his eyes brimming with panic and a silent plea. Unbeknownst to him, I had long known about his betrayal and the child.

On the night before our wedding, my fiancée's ex-boyfriend lost in three rounds of Truth or Dare. Round One was Truth. He had to confess the most intimate thing he'd ever done with the opposite sex. Rob Ross shot me a wink. "That scar on Dorothy's thigh? I accidentally bit her there." Round Two was Truth again. He had to reveal a secret no one else in the room knew. He blushed a little. "When Dorothy was fast asleep, I took care of her physical needs for her." Round Three was Dare. He had to kiss a lady in the room for a full ten seconds. Without hesitation, he turned and kissed my fiancée, Dorothy Bryant. Dorothy froze for a moment, then held the back of his head and kissed him back. As the room watched in shock, she pulled Rob behind a screen, and they proceeded to entwine passionately, oblivious to the stares. The entire room fell into a stunned, suffocating silence. Every pair of eyes swiveled toward me. They all braced for an explosive outburst. But when the pair finally emerged from behind the screen, still lost in each other, I was the first to break the tension by clapping enthusiastically. "Such being the case, why not make him the groom tomorrow?"

I gave him my heart, and he gave his mother the power to break it. For years, Bella endured a loveless marriage built on her silence and sacrifice. Eric, the man she had married, chose his love and loyalty to his overbearing mother over protecting his wife. When the humiliation became unbearable after letting another woman into their home, Bella finally walked away. Then came Cole Warren, A wealthier billionaire than Eric. He was everything Eric wasn't. With Cole, Bella found peace and the love she had begged Eric for. But fate had one last twist. Bella was already pregnant and with Eric's child. Now, Eric wants her back. But Bella isn't the same woman he abandoned.

Eight months into my pregnancy, my husband finally makes time from his police duties to go to a prenatal checkup with me for the first time. The moment we step into the hospital, his satellite-encrypted phone buzzes urgently. The caller ID flashes briefly, and just like that, the man who's always calm and collected panics. "Honey, it's a red alert. Another international fugitive just crossed the border. I… I'm sorry…" He's clearly anxious, yet his tone is firm, leaving no room for argument. After apologizing, he rushes off. As I watch his SUV speed out of sight, my fist clenches tightly, crumpling the prenatal checkup sheet. I flag down a cab, slide into the car, and swiftly instruct the driver, "Follow that car. Don't lose it." A Red Notice for a fugitive? What a joke. My father, who works at the National Security Agency, barely catches wind of a notice like that. Yet, somehow, a mere police chief who only assists with cases is suddenly tasked with catching a high-priority criminal. Fine, then. I can't wait to meet the superior who's given him such an urgent assignment.

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

I've been married to my wife, Stacy Howard, for 12 years now. She doesn't let me sleep with her unless it's on the 5th or 20th of the month. I thought she was just uninterested in physical intimacy. That is, until I accidentally witness her walking together with her first love, Devin Fisher, on the street on Thanksgiving Day. Stacy, who's always cold and aloof to me, is actually smiling softly at Devin. Our daughter, Tammy Gilbert, tags along with them as well. She holds Devin's hand while calling him "daddy" in the sweetest tone ever. Instead of demanding answers from Stacy, I turn around and head home. There, I dig out the divorce agreement that I've already prepared in advance.

On our anniversary, Nina Reid took our daughter—and her assistant, Ray Chapman—out for another "family day." Without me. That was it. I filed for divorce. Right after signing the papers and boxing up my stuff, I heard a buzz from the corner. Old phone. Twelve years old. Buried in a drawer. The screen lit up with a number I almost recognized. Hand shaking, I picked up. A voice I hadn't heard in years. Young. Way too familiar. "Hey, Liam. I need to talk to you."

Due to a booking mistake, a French billionaire man who had been arranged to marry someone out of his interest was forced to spend 30 nights on a yacht with a Japanese billionaire woman who had recently lost a fiancé in a shooting incident. Would a spark of true romance be conceivable regardless of the reality that they practically lived in two very different situations? Given the complications that would arise if a forbidden romance began, would their love be worth the risk?

เมื่อความรักต้องผ่านอุปสรรคและการจากลา ธามและอาชวินจะสามารถกลับมาหากันได้อีกครั้งหรือไม่?