Elisha Plasket
14 Published Stories
Elisha Plasket's Books and Stories
Marrying My Childhood Sweetheart
Modern Richard is only a year older than me, but he has always used his status as my older brother to pressure me.
When we were kids, he would scold me for skipping class, and as we grew up, he would still interfere in my love life.
My friends joked, "Your brother can't possibly like you, right? You two aren't even real siblings."
Since then, I deliberately distanced myself from him, but during the New Year, he suddenly brought home a girl.
"Tricia, call her sister-in-law."
That night, I locked myself in my room and cried uncontrollably.
He pulled me out from under the covers and gently wiped away my tears.
"You're allowed to make me mad by dating a boyfriend, but I can't be upset with you?" Too Late: The Don's Regretful Pursuit
Mafia I sat at the head of the mahogany table, the heavy heirloom emeralds around my neck marking me as the future Queen of the Cosa Nostra.
But the man beside me—Jax Viles, the most feared Don in New York—had his hand resting possessively on the thigh of the woman sitting to his right.
She wasn't his fiancée. I was.
The humiliation didn't stop at dinner. Jax moved her into my home, turned my dance studio into her closet, and when she pushed me down a flight of stairs, he stepped over my broken body to comfort her because she was "shaken up."
He started a bloody gang war just to defend her honor, yet ignored my desperate calls warning him of an ambush.
To him, I wasn't a partner. I was furniture—a fixture that was expected to be silent and useful. He would burn the world to ash for her, but for me, he wouldn't even skip a meeting.
So, while he was out celebrating his victory for her, I didn't wait for him to come home.
I left the engagement ring in the trash can next to the toilet.
On his desk, I left a single note: "I release you from the oath. I hope she's worth the war."
By the time he realized his mistake and came looking for his shadow, I was already gone, ready to become the Queen of my own life. Rising From Ashes: The Untouchable Zillionaire Heiress
Modern I was locked in a freezing, bleach-scented asylum basement, my vocal cords ruined and my face chemically melted.
My step-sister Seraphina and my ex-lover Ethan walked in, but they didn't come to save me.
Seraphina forced a mirror to my face so I could see my own disfigured reflection.
"Your shares have been transferred to me," she whispered with a sickening smile.
Then she revealed the horrifying truth: she and her mother had orchestrated my mother's death and suffocated my beloved grandfather to steal his inheritance.
When I lunged at her in pure agony, Ethan shielded her and delivered a brutal kick to my ribs.
He grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head against the solid concrete wall with all his might.
As my vision swam with dark spots, I couldn't understand why my own father had sold me out to protect his wealth.
Why did the man I once loved treat me like a diseased rat while he fed on my family's corpses?
With my dying breath, I mentally cursed them to the deepest pits of hell.
Opening my eyes again, the blinding light of a crystal chandelier stabbed my pupils.
I was standing at my eighteenth birthday gala, unscarred and whole.
Seraphina was smiling sweetly, handing me a diamond-encrusted watch secretly implanted with a military-grade GPS tracker.
This time, blood would pay for blood. The Mafia King's Broken Captive Bride
Mafia I am the last surviving daughter of a murdered Mafia Don, kept as a captive trophy by Julian Moretti.
To break my spirit, he systematically drugged my meals, turning me into a ghost in his gilded cage.
But the true nightmare began when he brought his childhood sweetheart, Linette, to live under the same roof.
When she pushed me into the estate's frozen lake and fell in with me, Julian didn't hesitate.
He dove into the freezing black water, looked right into my desperate eyes, and turned his back to save her.
He left me to drown.
I survived the icy abyss, only to face a crueler fate.
To cover up his betrayal and secure his power, Julian announced our immediate wedding, planning to parade me before the Mafia Commission as his conquered property.
When I swallowed poison to escape the ultimate desecration of my family's name, he simply revived me.
He pumped my veins full of paralyzing sedatives, dressed my limp body like a porcelain doll, and dragged me onto his private jet to New York.
"They will see that even a proud, wounded lioness can only whimper at my feet."
My father and brother had used their own bodies as shields so I could live.
How could I let my family's honor be trampled by the very monster who orchestrated their massacre?
As the plane descended into New York, the despair in my veins forged into cold steel.
If Julian wanted a Marino bride, I would give him exactly what that meant.
I would survive this forced marriage, and I would personally slit his throat at the altar. His Silent Omega's Hidden White Wolf Bloodline
Werewolf I was the Lycan King's political wife, universally despised as a "wolfless Omega" freak.
When my husband, Kingsley, was poisoned with a lethal dose of silver at a pack gala, I disguised my scent and risked everything to drag him to safety.
But instead of recognizing his mate, he threw me to the wolves. He spent weeks tearing the city apart to find his "mysterious savior," while treating me like a sickening disease.
"Stay out of my sight. You reek of sickness."
He spat those words at me, completely blind to the fact that the scent he hated was the bleach I used to hide my tracks. Meanwhile, my abusive family publicly humiliated me, auctioning off my mother's grave to my worst enemy while Kingsley just watched in disgust.
I endured his icy glares and their venomous insults in silence. They all thought I was just a pathetic, empty shell they could crush. They didn't know I was "The Zero"—the phantom hacker currently bleeding their financial empires dry.
At the grand auction, I finally dropped the act. I wiped out my enemy's fortune with a single keystroke, bought my mother's land, and traded it to the Elders for my absolute freedom.
Now, as the auction screens bleed red, Kingsley is staring at me with dark, consuming shock. He finally realizes the lethal monster he’s been hunting was his submissive wife all along. He Killed Our Pup: The Alpha's Ultimate Regret
Werewolf My husband locked me in a glass cage in the center of the ballroom, announcing to the elite of the pack that my father was dead.
While his assistant, Debra, draped herself over him, Austen turned the thermostat down until industrial coolant pumped into my prison.
I was eight months pregnant with his heir, begging for mercy, but he only raised a champagne glass to his new "Nolan Pack."
To prove my submission, he ordered warriors to douse me in ice water laced with silver and wolfsbane.
The chemicals burned my skin, but the cold killed my unborn son.
As I lay in a pool of frozen red blood, watching the life fade from my womb, Austen finally panicked—not for me, but for his reputation.
My father, the Supreme Alpha, wasn't dead. He tore the doors off their hinges to save me, but it was too late for the baby.
Waking up in the hospital, empty and broken, I listened to Austen beg not for forgiveness, but for a cover-up to save the stock price.
"We can just make another one," he said, dismissing my dead son like a broken toy.
That was the moment the weak, loving wife died.
I stood up, my eyes glowing with the ancient silver light of the White Wolf.
I didn't just divorce him. I used the Alpha Voice to sever our bond, stripping him of his rank, his sanity, and his name.
Now, I am the Queen of the Winter Moon Pack. The Betrayed Rose Rises Anew
Mafia He called me his wild rose, the foster kid he rescued from the streets. He built me a gilded cage and told me it was love.
Then I saw the text: my best friend, Karis, showing off the engagement ring he' d just given her.
I rushed to his office, only to overhear the truth. I was just a "placeholder," a "stray he picked up," a useful toy to keep his family happy while he planned his real future with her.
He laughed about how easily he could control me.
"A little gaslighting, a few well-placed gifts, and she'll be back where she belongs. Under my thumb."
His final act of love? Drugging me and handing me over to a monster, sacrificing me as a "body double" to protect his precious Karis.
He thought I was just a broken foster kid with nowhere to go. He thought he could erase me.
He was wrong. As the private jet he put me on exploded over the ocean, I was already gone-saved by the powerful family I never knew I had. Now, I'm coming back, and they will pay for every single lie. Kissed By My Brother
Young Adult He always called me his little bird.
For six years, since my parents died in that tragic fire, my uncle Michael Davies was my world.
He promised to protect me, to give me a gilded cage where I could feel safe.
But on the eve of my 18th birthday, that gilded cage became a prison.
I overheard him in his study, a phone call that shattered my entire existence.
He was talking to Emily White, his ex-fiancée, the woman he truly loved.
And in that chilling conversation, I learned the truth.
My "savior" had orchestrated a monstrous plan: he was going to auction me off at my own birthday party.
And Emily, the woman he swore he loved, revealed she was the one who set the fire that killed my parents.
My uncle knew.
He' d known all along.
Every sweet word, every gentle touch, every act of supposed kindness was a lie designed to keep me a pawn in his twisted game of revenge.
I was just a substitute, a cheap copy of the woman he truly desired.
The pain was unbearable, a betrayal so profound it left me gasping for air.
But the girl who loved Michael Davies died in that hallway.
A new Sarah was born, cold, hard, and desperate to escape.
I would not be his victim.
I would not be their entertainment.
I would survive this.
My only escape was a desperate plea to his grandfather: arranging a marriage to a comatose man, miles away.
It felt like a desolate choice, a sacrifice for freedom.
But it was my only hope.
I had to get out. Sunlight and Solace
Romance One month before my wedding, a text from an unknown number shattered my perfect world.
It was a photo: Chloe' s hand, unmistakably, holding a positive pregnancy test, with a single, chilling line of text: "Congrats on being a dad. Or, stepdad, I guess. - Jake."
My fiancée, Chloe, didn't deny it. She laughed, casually admitting she only agreed to marry me to make her ex-boyfriend, Jake, jealous. Every memory, every tender moment, twisted into a cruel performance.
I stood there, surrounded by wedding invitations, realization dawning: I wasn' t a partner; I was a prop in her twisted game, about to become a convenient father for another man' s child. The woman I adored had meticulously built our future on a foundation of calculated lies.
The betrayal was total, tearing through my very core. How could I have been so blind, so foolishly tethered to a ghost? The humiliation burned.
I tore the wedding invitation in half and told her I was done, disappearing from her life. I packed my bags, leaving the broken pieces of my past behind, and headed to the farthest, coldest corner of the Earth: the Arctic, determined to freeze her out of my soul and rebuild a life she could never touch. The Forensic Bride
Horror Havenwood, Maine, was a town owned by the Thorne family, but their ancient mansion held an even darker grip through a chilling tradition.
Each new Thorne bride spent her wedding night alone in the windowless Founder's Study, a tradition that consistently ended in death, just like my sister Sarah's eight years ago.
Police ruled Sarah's brutal throat-slitting a "suicide," a convenient lie swiftly followed by seven more inexplicable deaths of Julian Thorne's brides in the very same room.
No one believed Sarah could do that, nor could the champion swimmer who supposedly drowned herself in a tiny basin, yet my father succumbed to the narrative, claiming we couldn't fight the powerful Thornes.
But I refused to let it go, spending eight years mastering forensic psychology, and now I'm back in Havenwood, declaring to a stunned town and a resigned Julian: "I will be his ninth bride." The Husband's Verdict
Modern I sacrificed everything for her.
My top-tier university scholarship, my architectural dreams, all to work for her father' s firm, playing the perfect, accommodating husband to Chloe for five long years.
One Tuesday, curiosity led my hand to unlock an ornate wooden box on her vanity, a box she claimed held precious family heirlooms.
Inside, there was no jewelry.
Only a discreet urn and two receipts: one for a D&C procedure, the other for cremation. My blood ran cold when I saw the 'father' s name' wasn't mine.
It was Leo, the musician she' d painted as a crazed stalker, the man I' d served a restraining order to protect her from.
That restraining order, my very act of protection, wasn't a deterrent to their affair; it was the ultimate foreplay, according to a recording I later heard. Her family dismissed my pain, my father-in-law openly favored Leo, even hiring him to work alongside me.
But the true breaking point came when Chloe watched, impassively, as I thrashed in a cold lake, struggling to breathe after she pushed me in. She walked away, leaving me to drown.
The love I had for her didn't just die; it was extinguished, replaced by a chilling void. It wasn't about anger or sadness anymore, but an utter sense of betrayal that twisted my entire reality.
And that's when the plan began to form. A cold, precise design to give them the "legacy" they truly deserved, on the biggest stage of all: the dedication ceremony of the skyscraper I designed. A Second Chance At Tragedy
Modern It began innocently enough.
My high school roommate, Jessica, needed a place to stay during a break, just as my older brother, David, was prepping for his SATs, his ticket to an Ivy League dream.
My trusting parents welcomed her into our home.
Then, the nightmare struck.
A scream in the night.
Jessica, teary-eyed, accused David of something unspeakable-a monstrous, venomous lie.
That lie didn' t just stick; it decimated us.
David's scores plunged, his dreams shattered, expelled from school.
He found a dead-end job, then an accident claimed his life.
Our parents, heartbroken, soon followed.
And Jessica? She remained, a parasite feeding on our grief, playing the survivor while I simmered with impotent rage until everything ended in fire.
The memory was a raw, bleeding wound-the profound injustice, the agony of watching my family crumble from a fabrication.
Why did it have to end like that?
Why couldn't I have seen through her sweet facade sooner?
But then, I gasped awake, sunlight streaming through my familiar window.
The calendar showed the exact date.
Downstairs, I heard her voice: Jessica' s.
I was back.
This wasn't a dream.
This was a second chance, a fierce, burning clarity-a chance to save David, my parents, and myself, and to dismantle Jessica' s wicked game, piece by deceitful piece. The Madwoman's Master Plan
Modern The bright town fair turned dark when my ten-year-old daughter Lily, clutching her voice recorder, was tormented by Brandon, my ex-husband' s girlfriend' s son. When he shoved her, my defensive slap echoed, breaking my world.
That protective act was instantly weaponized by Mark' s manipulative partner, Victoria. Convinced I was "unhinged," my ex-husband Mark swiftly sent us to "Tranquil Pathways Youth Academy" -a grim place, more prison than therapy.
Inside, I was systematically drugged, shamed, and isolated. They promised Lily' s well-being hinged on my "compliance" while she vanished into a "specialized unit." To Mark, I was painted as psychotic, my desperate pleas dismissed, yet my mother's intuition screamed betrayal.
The injustice and helplessness maddened me. My ex-husband had abandoned us, believing their lies. Lily was gone, somewhere in those cold walls, and I was being stripped of my mind, consumed by fear for her.
Months later, Mark arrived, finally doubting. Through my drugged stupor, chilling clarity led him to a hidden floorboard in my desolate room. There, beside Lily' s lifeless body, was her cherished recorder-holding the undeniable truth, and igniting a cold, unyielding vengeance within me. You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen
Hydro Therapy I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria.
But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity.
A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love.
My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me.
Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego.
He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press.
He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan.
He had no idea she was a fraud.
He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her.
He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate.
At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her.
I didn't beg. I didn't cry.
I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play. Married to the Billionaire Mafia Don
Ebony Pete "You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down? You Called Me Barren, Mr. Sterile Don
Gong Zi On my birthday, my husband Dante asked for a divorce over a plate of cold lasagna.
He held my hand, tears in his eyes, and told me his mistress was pregnant.
"It’s a miracle, Elena," he wept. "God has finally given me a son."
He looked at me with pity, calling me "broken" because I hadn't given him an heir in eight years.
He moved his pregnant mistress into the penthouse I paid for, and his mother mocked me as a "dry vine" while cooking tonic soups for the new woman.
They didn't know the truth I had buried three years ago.
I remembered the day the doctor slid the file across the desk: *Azoospermia. Zero sperm count.*
Dante was the sterile one.
I had burned the results to protect his fragile ego as a Mafia Don. I took the blame. I drank his mother's vile herbal poisons every morning until I vomited, just to keep his secret.
Now, he was discarding me for a "miracle" that was biologically impossible.
I signed the divorce papers without a tear.
Then I bought the debt of his company, put on a blood-red dress, and walked into his heir's Christening.
I didn't come to object.
I came to plug a USB drive into the projector and show the entire underworld exactly whose "miracle" that baby really was. Sold to the Mafia king
Kaya N She hates him.
He refuses to let himself want her.
Lina Gray never thought love would betray her. Until the man she trusted, traded her life to pay his debts. Delivered into the hands of Carlino Lacentra, the Mafia king whose name ends conversations. Lina is stripped of choice and crowned Donna to secure a throne she never asked for. In his world, power is law, loyalty is currency, and a woman beside the king is never just a woman.
---
His eyes returned to me-slow, assessing. Then, without warning, his hands shot up and clamped around my throat.
I gasped, instinctively clawing at his arms. He didn't move. "Disobey me again," he said, voice low, stripped of warmth, "and we won't be counting next time."
Even shaking, I lifted my chin. "Then don't mistake silence for obedience," I said hoarsely.
Carlino's voice followed-calm, absolute, as if nothing had happened. "Lock her floor tonight."
That was when it settled. There was no mercy here. No exaggeration. Every word, every threat-he meant them.
He wasn't pretending to be the devil. He simply didn't bother hiding it. 
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