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

Flynn, armed with Noelle's vague directions, left the room and embarked on his quest to find the home gym. He turned down a hallway, then another, then another, each one leading him further into the labyrinthine depths of the mansion. The opulence of the surroundings, the endless corridors, the identical doors, began to blur into a disorienting haze, still he could not find an exit.

He found himself wandering in circles, retracing his steps, encountering the same ornate vases and imposing portraits. The gym and door to the garden, it seemed, was determined to remain elusive. He sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his usually calm demeanor. He wondered how it was possible to get so thoroughly lost in a house and not meet a single person. For such a big house, it lacked enough humans.

"What I wouldn't give to encounter a maid right now," he muttered to himself, his voice echoing softly in the empty hallway. "Or anyone, really."

Brother-in-law