SukieWrites

The jeers followed her like a persistent shadow. "Murderer!" the crowd screamed, their faces contorted in a grotesque parody of the adoration she once commanded. 

Just months ago, they had screamed her name, their voices a deafening roar as she shimmied across the stage, a beacon of light and pop perfection. Now, their cheers had morphed into venomous hisses, their eyes burning with a hatred that chilled her to the bone.

Noelle clutched her lawyer's arm, his face a mask of grim determination. The cameras flashed, capturing her every move, every tremor of fear. The headlines screamed: "Pop Princess Plummets: Noelle Accused of Murder." The irony wasn't lost on her. Her life, once a carefully constructed fairytale of fame and fortune, had become a grotesque tragedy.

The trial was a circus. The whispers, the sneers, the relentless scrutiny – it was a constant assault on her senses. Her once loyal fans, the ones who'd plastered her face on their bedroom walls, now reveled in her downfall. They devoured every salacious detail, every whispered accusation, every tear she dared to shed.

The verdict was a foregone conclusion. Guilty.
Noelle watched the judge pronounce the sentence, her mind a whirlwind of disbelief and despair.  Death by lethal injection. 

‘At least they did not give me the electric chair’ she thought to herself in a poor attempt at humor.

*

Months later, a solitary figure knelt at her grave, the wind whipping at his hair. Rain lashed down, mirroring the tears that streamed down his face. 

"I'm sorry, Areum," he sobbed, his voice hoarse with grief. "I'm so sorry I was too late." He clutched a single, wilted rose, its petals stained crimson, a poignant reminder of the life that had been brutally extinguished.

*

 Noelle is a bright star who has the world at her feet, she feels no guilt about being the other woman coming between a husband and his wife. After all, Evan had been in love with her since they were teenagers. The only reason he married Ma-Ri was because his family demanded it, if he had a choice he would surely have picked her…

When she gets wrongfully accused of murdering Ma-Ri, she loses everything and is sentenced to death, everyone including Evan turn against her and she is left to die a miserable death.

She is reborn and this time she faces the humiliation of being the woman who is being cheated on. She is determined to end the cycle and not let the future she had seen come to pass, she decides to step out of the picture and focus on her career.

In doing so, everything changes, Evan clings to her and refuses to let her go, a mysterious stranger who has been studying her also steps in and decides to fight for a chance to be with her.

The Mistress Is Reborn As The Fiancée

The air in the room, already thick with the lingering tension of Noelle's return, crackled with a newfound energy after the bombshell dropped. A stunned silence had settled, broken only by the soft rhythm of Noelle's breathing.

"What. Did. You. Say?" Vernon said slowly, willing what he had heard to be a mistake.

"I am her husband." Flynn said smugly and pulled Noelle closer, his smile smug.

The silence that followed was profound, a vacuum of disbelief. Evan, his face pale and drawn, was the first to break the spell. He surged to his feet, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"Husband?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with incredulity. "What do you mean, husband? There is no way you are married! I am your fiancé, have you forgotten that?"

He looked at Noelle, his eyes pleading, his voice laced with a desperate hope. "Noelle, please," he begged, his voice barely audible. "Tell me you're joking."

Sleeping Arrangements