Frame Story Example

After five long years of dating, Winona Shaw finally said yes. I was elated, like a scavenger who'd struck gold. I put everything I had into the engagement party, but out of the blue, Winona embraced Claude Landton instead. She even tried to frame me and boot me to jail. I canceled the party and called the cops instead. That made Winona mad, and Claude started panicking. Icily, I said, "Now, calm down. We have a lot of trials to go through. See you in court."

Isabella is an example of the word special. In a whole generation of wolves behind her, no one has ever seen, heard or recorded of a wolf becoming the mate of a god. No in the wolf kingdom, no kingdom at all. The thing is that gods don't have mates but Isabella is made for him. He is bonded to her and she to him. This is the story of a princess and a god.

I paid for a first-class plane ticket with my own money to beat our competitors and locked down a multi-million-dollar deal. By the time I went back with the signed contract, I received a notice of termination. The reason was because I violated the company cost-saving policy, and I was dismissed effective immediately. I was stopped and mocked by Maeve Zolten, the intern assistant. "It's a strict company policy that only train travel is allowed for business trips. You deliberately violated this rule. Should we undermine the company's regulations just for you?" My fiancé and the CEO of the company, Chance Goode, backed her up without hesitation. "As the director, you're taking the lead in violating the rules, setting an extremely negative example!" Through the narrow gap in the blinds, I caught a glimpse of him cheating on me with Maeve. That was when I finally understood all the mistreatment. They clearly misunderstood who owned the deal if they thought firing me ended the story. They fired me for a ticket, but I would walk away with the future. I turned away, pulled out my phone, and made a phone call. "I'll join you and bring in my new energy project worth tens of millions of dollars. Additionally, does your company restrict key employees from flying for business negotiations?"

Just a few days before my wedding, I accidentally come across a post while scrolling online. The title reads, "To the guy getting married in this city, your fiancée's already cheated on you." Curious, I click in to see the gossip, only to realize I'm the one being talked about. A deep male voice plays in the video. "I heard you're getting married?" The woman in the frame, bare-backed and trembling, chokes back a sob. "After you left, I realized you're still the one I love most. I'm done with him. Take me away, please!" The moment I hear her voice, it feels like someone punches me straight in the chest. Then I notice something on her wrist—the luxury couple's bracelet I gave her just yesterday. And in that instant, I feel like the biggest joke of all. Turns out the fool was me.

In my past life, I casually bought a lottery ticket at the corner store and won 80 million dollars. Three days later, my pregnant housekeeper, Lily Hall, jumped off a bridge and killed herself. Before she died, she left behind a suicide note and a video recording. She claimed I had verbally abused and beaten her for months, and that I had falsely accused her of trying to seduce my husband, Jayden Sanders. In the video, my voice rang out crystal clear as I hurled insults at her. "You little tramp, why are you using a mop? Get down on your hands and knees and scrub it inch by inch. If it's not spotless, don't even think about eating tonight." I called Jayden to vouch for me. However, he insisted I had always been arrogant and cruel, constantly screaming at people or hitting them. He even lifted his shirt to show off the purple bruises covering his body. I could not defend myself and ended up being the villain everyone wanted to see locked up. Eventually, the entire 80 million dollars went to Lily's younger sister, Emma Hall, as compensation. I spent the rest of my life rotting in prison, never understanding why sweet, gentle Lily would frame me and then take her own life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I won the lottery.

My boyfriend, Sam Gibson, had a childhood best friend named Tina Lincoln. She was a star medical student. On the day Sam and I were supposed to get our marriage license, Tina took one look at the tight top I was wearing and flat-out claimed I had been sleeping around for years. She pointed at my chest with obvious disgust. “If men hadn’t been all over you, there’s no way your breasts would be this big.” Sam believed her completely. He started cursing at me, calling me a slut who had sleep with anyone, and refused to go through with the marriage license. I tried over and over to explain, but Tina just sneered at me. “People may be more open-minded these days, but that doesn’t mean you can sell your body and make your chest that big.” She used me as some kind of “example,” started a livestream to lecture people online, and exposed all my personal information. After that, strangers kept sending me disgusting, harassing messages, asking how much I charged for a night. Some even followed me and tried to force themselves on me. I begged her to clear things up for me, but she just shrugged and said, “If you never did that kind of thing, why would people be asking you?” In the end, I was assaulted and killed. And she went on to become a nationally famous influencer doctor, gaining fame and money at the same time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was supposed to get my marriage license with Sam.

In my previous life, after I got divorced, the court awarded me custody of our newborn son, as he was still nursing. On the other hand, our daughter would live with my ex-husband. I raised my son to be humble and polite. He was admitted to MIT. On the day the results were announced, various media outlets rushed to interview me to ask about my parenting secrets. Meanwhile, my daughter dropped out of school and eloped with a hooligan. She got pregnant before she was even sixteen, becoming a negative example of teenage delinquency. At thirty, she was still sponging off her father, having achieved nothing in life. My ex-husband's dream of having a successful daughter was shattered, much to his shame. He came to confront me at my son's college acceptance party. He insisted that I had passed on bad genes to our daughter, which caused her failure. During the argument, he stabbed me in the chest and then jumped to his death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the courtroom on the day of the child custody ruling. This time, my ex-husband spoke before I could, asking the judge to grant him custody of our son. I immediately realized he too had been reborn.

In the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, a sudden power outage occurred. As the doctor on night duty, I remained calm and didn't panic, nor did I call for help. I calmly waited as the temperatures of the incubators where the babies lay slowly dropped... In my previous life, when the pediatric department lost power, I immediately switched to the backup power sources to ensure the children's safety. After doing everything I was supposed to do, I sat down to take a breather and took a sip of water. Suddenly, my coworkers rushed in, waking me up. "Dr. Luther, you're a healthcare staff, how could you kill those children?!" "You froze them to death! How vicious! You'll pay for this!" Only then did I realize that all the children had died, without exception. The police took me away. They said I was the only one in the room and they found my fingerprints on the thermostat. My son then produced a video to assist in the investigation. "She often complained about the patients being a bother and hoped they would all die." Enraged family members cornered me in an alley and tortured me for ten hours until I died. But until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the children could have frozen to death in a thermostatically-controlled environment. And why did my own son provide a fake video to frame me? Suddenly, I jolted awake. I found myself waking up on the day of the power outage.

The first thing I do after coming back to life is swap out every single pair of my husband, Augustin Reed's boxers for those in black. In my past life, my sister-in-law, Sephine Fidel, cheats right under our roof on my brother, Jonah Merrick. And when I catch her and tell Jonah the truth, she turns it all on me. Then, two pairs of men's black boxers, not Augustin's, appear in my bedroom. I try to explain, but Augustin slaps me across the face and calls me a whore, while Jonah looks at me like I'm filth. "I know you hate Sephine. You've never shown her any warmth since she married me, but I didn't think you'd sink this low to cheat in your own house and frame her for it…" He disowns me while Augustin files for divorce. I remember stumbling onto the streets in a daze, only to get run over dead by a speeding truck. When my eyes snap open, I wake up to the day Sephine brings her lover into our home.

My anxiety spiked during our wedding photoshoot. A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. My fiancé, Caius—the Falcone family heir—was helping his adoptive sister, Fiorella, try on my wedding dress. He didn't even spare me a glance. He was on one knee, focused on adjusting the lace on Fiorella’s hem. Before we’d even left the shop, Fiorella posted a selfie in the dress. She was all smiles, my fiancé standing beside her, posed like her groom. Calmly, I pulled out my phone. I sent a message to a painter I keep on retainer. "A royal portrait. The two of them. Old-world style. Use the cheapest materials you can find. I want the frame dripping with fake diamonds. Make it look like trash." I'll have it sent to Fiorella. A wedding present. The note will be simple. "A work of art as priceless as your bond. Best wishes on your wedding."