Spring Bonnie Suits

Five years ago, Esther Quill, who was six months pregnant, was sent to prison by her husband, Bradley Warner, himself.Five years later, Esther went to Bradley with a DNA paternity test paper in her hand and tearfully questioned, "Bradley Warner, how does it feel to kill your flesh and blood with your own hands!?"Ten years of secret love in exchange for five years of imprisonment; ten months of pregnancy in exchange for five years of separation from her flesh and blood.After Esther redeemed her sin with her life, Bradley turned white overnight and offered a sky-high reward, desperately searching for his wife and vowing to find her even if he had to overturn the world.The world thought that Bradley loved Esther to death... Only Esther knew that the man had no heart.It was until Esther appeared on the news with her two daughters and son one day.Bradley looked at the woman he had been yearning for and apologized, "Sweetheart, I was wrong!"The three little ones put themselves in front of Esther."Mr. Warner, our mommy is single, and there are too many people who want to be our daddy. Please go to the end of the line!”

In the third year after I've run away from home, my parents finally remember my existence. But the reason is that the fake heir, Jayson Norman, is displeased with his marriage partner in the upcoming marriage alliance. That's why my parents instantly think of getting me to replace Jayson in the marriage. When Mom sees Katrina Cobb, the woman whom I've eloped with, rummaging through the trash in a wheelchair, she feels extremely satisfied. "Back then, Joshua refused to stick to his role as the heir of the Norman family. He even went as far as to push Jayson down the stairs just so he could elope with this wretched woman! I bet he must be riddled with remorse by now!" With hazy eyes, Katrina mutters, "Yeah, he was filled with remorse. He regretted going back to that place you call 'home' with you." Dad lets out a cold huff. "Well, that's enough tantrum on his part! Tell him to get his ass home for the marriage alliance, and we'll consider the past water under the bridge!" Having noted Katrina's silence, Dad wastes no time in kicking her wheelchair over. "You wretched cripple! Where have you hidden my son?" I can only float in mid-air as I gaze down at Katrina, who's wailing in pain on the ground. At that moment, I feel as though my soul is getting ripped apart. "Mom, Dad, I've been dead for three years. How am I going to take Jayson's place in this marriage alliance?"

In the seventh year of my marriage to Adrian Sandford, his ex, Celine Wheeler, came back. She posted: [We were young, reckless. We missed our shot. This time, I'm fighting for love.] That night, Adrian sat on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingers, staring out till sunrise. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing either. Their friend group—everyone who saw them grow up—flooded the chat. Regret for them. Relief, too. They forgot I was still in there. Adrian had no clue how many times I replayed the years I chased him. Seven years. I'm tired.

My mom was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her life is smooth-sailing most of the time. The only mistake she's ever made is falling for my dad. That's why she insists on finding me a husband who's the complete opposite of my dad. My dad is tall and intimidating-looking, so Mom wants someone who's short and perverted-looking. My dad is a knowledgeable and well-read man, so Mom wants a guy who has only graduated from elementary school. My dad prioritizes his moral integrity more than anything else, so Mom prefers a guy who drinks, gambles, and sleeps around. She tells me, "This type of man is easy to manipulate, unlike your father, who just divorced me out of nowhere!" It's true that the man Mom has chosen for me won't divorce me. After all, he leeches from me on top of beating me up. It's not enough to leech my money from me, it seems—he just has to take everything from me. My mom says in a righteous tone, "This is the only way that proves you're valuable to him. He won't divorce you at all." I've fought back and escaped from my husband many times. Every time I do, my mom will trick me into returning to him by hurting herself. As always, I'm greeted with another round of beating whenever I do return to him. Mom will take me to the hospital to get my injuries treated. Then, she'll say, "Hurry up and give birth to a son for him. Once you have a son, you'll be extremely valuable to your husband. He won't beat you up anymore." Today is supposed to be the day Mom takes me to the hospital to check my ovulation timing. She spends a long time calling me on the phone, yet I never pick up. After that, she sends me a few audio messages that last for 60 seconds each just to lecture me. "Beatrice Anderson, what makes you think you can just ignore my calls? The hospital check-up is for your own good! As long as you can get pregnant with a son, your husband will be wrapped around your finger! He won't divorce you after this! Why can't you understand how much I care for you?" I seriously can't understand at all. After all, I've gotten beaten to death yesterday. My corpse is cut into 28 chunks, and they are being frozen in the fridge as I speak.

After eight years of love, Liz Smith went from being the woman Zac Lincoln once saw as the love he could never forget, to someone he couldn’t wait to get rid of. She had spent three years trying to hold on, giving everything she had. But once her last bit of affection ran dry, she finally gave up and walked away. On the day they broke up, Zac sneered coldly and said, “Liz, I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back, begging me to take you back.” But what came instead wasn’t a plea—it was news that she was getting married. Furious, he called her. “Are you done with your little game?” A deep male voice answered from the other end. “Mr. Lincoln, my fiancée is in the shower. She can’t come to the phone right now.” Zac let out a bitter laugh and hung up. He convinced himself it was just another one of Liz’s tricks—playing hard to get. It wasn’t until her wedding day, when he saw her in a white gown, holding a bouquet, walking down the aisle toward another man, that reality finally hit him. Liz had truly let him go. Like a madman, he pushed through the crowd and rushed to her. “Liz, I know I was wrong. Please don’t marry someone else. Please.” Liz lifted her dress and walked right past him. “Didn’t you say you and Xena were perfect for each other? Why are you kneeling at my wedding now, Mr. Lincoln?”

There was a time when Nyla believed that walking down the aisle with Clark, after being together since their university years, would be the happiest moment of her life. It was only when Clark cheated on her that she realized true love and growing old together were rare. More often than not, relationships ended in separation and loss. After their divorce, she swore she would never give her heart away again. But, Damon—Clark’s youngest uncle—barged into Nyla’s life and gave her no chance to escape. She kept trying to distance herself, not wanting any more ties with her ex’s family. Damon, however, pursued her relentlessly, determined to have her in his arms. "Uncle Damon, we're not right for each other." Damon gently pinched Nyla’s chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "You and Clark are divorced. How am I still your uncle? "Besides, how do you know we’re not right for each other when you haven't tried?" "I’ve tried," Nyla replied. "Then try again," Damon said. "Keep trying until it feels right." Nyla was at a loss for words.

The entire Nightfall pack knows that Alpha Jack Thorne is famous for his devotion toward me, his mate. Not only does he personally take care of me, but he also drills a hot spring for me, knowing how much I'm afraid of the cold. He even rests in his wolf form at my feet in front of the Elder Council. "All the decisions that I made will place my mate, Ivy Blackwood's wishes as top priority." His gentle and serious vows fill the next three years of me being Jack's mate. I'm very sure that he loves me with all his heart. That is, until I come across a social media post, where my private hot spring serves as the background. Jack, who claims that he's off to mark his territory, can be seen kissing the she-wolf in the hot spring while the upper half of his body is naked.

On my girlfriend's birthday, I was in the middle of preparing a surprise for her when the property management office of our marital home called first. "Sir, we've received a complaint from another resident," the staff member said. "They claim there's been… quite a bit of noise coming from your unit at night. From you and your wife." I frowned. The only person I had given a key to that apartment was my girlfriend. I called her immediately. She answered with a soft, teasing tone, "They must have made a mistake. I'm at my best friend's place." "Alright," I said evenly. "Enjoy yourself." After hanging up, I opened the smart home system without hesitation and remotely locked every door and window from the outside. Then I dialed the police. "Hello, I'd like to report an unlawful entry."

It was the apocalypse. A zombie apocalypse. We should've been running for our lives, but my girlfriend, Yvonne Brown, refused to. She wanted to buy as much time as she could for her incompetent childhood friend, Yves Claude, to hop into the last helicopter that would take survivors away. But the retreat was our group's only way to survive in this apocalypse. Yves was not showing up anytime soon. I had no choice but to knock her out and drag her into the chopper. And Yves, the one she could never seem to forget, died in the swarm of undead. I, however, survived thanks to what I did. Yvonne and I lived happily in a safe zone. And then that fateful day came. I was going to take over the territory and lead humanity on an attack against the zombies. The night before that decisive strike, Yvonne spiked my water with anesthetics. When I was caught helpless, she tossed me into the horde of zombies. The swarm of undead tore my flesh open, and the pain killed me. Yvonne? She stood on the wall coldly, a sneer decorating her lips. "Yves could've lived, but you took that chance away from him! You selfish monster, you killed Yves! I will make you suffer what he suffered! You'll pay for it with your life!" Death took me, but it tossed me all the way back to the day of the retreat. The day Yvonne adamantly insisted on waiting for Yves. Well, if she was so happy to live through a world like this with her friend, who am I to say no? I would grant her that wish, even if she would end up as zombie food.

"You are one stubborn lady, you know that?." His raspy tone sounded close to her ear, sending gooseflesh up her arms. And her emotions must have been closer to the surface than she'd wanted to admit, because she could feel the sting of tears behind her lids. She hid her face in his shoulder and laughed. It sounded a little wobbly, but it was the best she could produce. "You hardly know me, David. And you already made it clear to me that you don't want to" "Well, you are making it difficult for me to stick to that" "It wouldn't be so bad if you let yourself. Forget about whatever reason brought us together. Let go... live in the moment" David groaned, and then his hand was beneath her chin, tilting her face up. Bonnie smiled, thinking he had a few more questions for her, when his mouth closed over hers and she couldn't think at all. —---------- Bonnie Rimmer is in danger, and David Stewart knows that it's all his fault. He had made more than a few enemies over the years, but a creepy stalker kidnapping the woman he was meant to protect is an entirely different matter. All of this could have been avoided if he had kept to one rule: don’t protect anyone you want to screw. Don't get emotionally involved with your client. But with Bonnie, he’s caught between his job and his increasingly hard libido. The woman is way out of his league, but David wants nothing more than to take the hot volcano of a woman in his hand. To make her writhe in pleasure, until she’s at his complete mercy. She needs protection. He needs satisfaction. And the moment the line is crossed, all hell will break loose…