LARA MORRISON
9 Published Stories
LARA MORRISON's Books and Stories
The Fake Mute's Spectacular Revenge Game
Romance Madeline slammed the prenuptial agreement onto the table, forcing Danielle to sign herself away as a "blood bag" bride.
To secure her mother's safety, Danielle was sold to the ruthless, comatose billionaire Deforest Stuart. She kept her head down, perfectly playing the role of a terrified, broken mute.
But on her wedding night, Deforest's sister set a vicious trap, dragging Danielle to a hotel to be ruined by a sleazy investor.
Danielle was prepared to escape, but the hotel door was suddenly smashed open by a massive figure.
It wasn't the investor. It was her comatose husband, Deforest, temporarily awakened by a violent, drug-induced rage.
In the pitch-black room, he pinned her down, mistaking her scent for a ghost from his past, and violently claimed her.
She fled before dawn, only to be blinded by camera flashes.
His sister dragged her back to the Stuart manor, ripping her collar open under the chandelier to expose the dark hickeys on her neck.
"Throw this shameless whore out into the street!" the matriarch ordered.
Danielle's eyes grew cold. If they kicked her out now, her years of planning to tear this rotten family apart would be completely destroyed.
No one believed that the monster who assaulted her was the very man lying perfectly still in the medical wing.
Playing the frantic mute, Danielle dragged the family to his bedroom.
Right as the guards reached for her, she launched herself onto the bed, crushing her weight directly onto Deforest's chest.
A second later, the "comatose" tyrant's eyes snapped open with murderous rage, and her real game of revenge finally began. Reborn Luna: Rejecting My Cruel Alpha
Werewolf I was the fated mate of Ryker Blackwood, the future Alpha, but my lack of an awakened wolf made me a pathetic joke to his pack.
Instead of protecting me, he publicly rejected me, chose the manipulative Lilith Vane as his Luna, and locked me in a freezing dungeon.
While the entire pack cheered for their final mating ceremony above, I rotted in heavy chains below.
When a rogue attack killed our unborn pups, I reached out to him in agony, but his voice through our fading bond was like splintered ice.
"Our pups are dead. Don't bother me again."
He didn't care at all. The casual dismissal shattered my inner wolf, and I died in that filthy cell, suffocating on my own despair and a hatred so potent it burned through my last breath.
Until my last moment, I couldn't understand why my absolute devotion was met with such cruel betrayal, and why my fated mate let our children die without a second thought.
Opening my eyes again, I wasn't in the dungeon.
I was back in my seventeenth year, choking on the icy water of the lake Lilith had just pushed me into.
Seeing Ryker's arrogant sneer and Lilith's fake concern on the shore, I didn't cry or beg for his attention like I did in my past life.
This time, I would publicly sever our sacred bond, awaken my true Alpha bloodline, and make them pay for every drop of my blood. My Runaway Groom's Billionaire Cousin
Romance I stood in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown, waiting to seal the merger of the century between the Singleton and English families. Everything was perfect, fragile, and obscenely expensive.
But minutes before the ceremony, my brother burst into the bridal suite looking like he’d seen a ghost. He handed me a crumpled note from Jeffery, the man I was supposed to marry.
"I can’t do it," the note read. "I’m choosing love." Jeffery had fled to Paris with another woman, leaving me to face two thousand guests and a family legacy that would plummet forty percent by Monday morning.
Harrison Singleton, the family patriarch, didn't offer sympathy; he offered a cold ultimatum. The wedding would happen, with or without Jeffery. He stepped aside to reveal Declan Singleton, the "Wolf of Wall Street" who had spent the last year ruthlessly stripping my father’s companies for parts.
To save my family from bankruptcy, I had to walk down the aisle and marry the man I hated most. At the altar, Declan didn’t just say "I do"; he claimed me with a kiss so possessive it felt like a sentencing.
The humiliation was physical, a knife twisting in my gut as the world watched the "hostile takeover" of my life. I was a spoil of war, traded to a predator who believed in leverage over love.
Then, Jeffery called, weeping about his mistake and begging to come back. I looked at the massive, perfectly-sized diamond Declan had already prepared for me and realized this wasn't a coincidence.
I wiped away my tears and straightened my emerald silk. If I had to live in a cage, I was going to make sure I had the sharpest teeth.
"Let's go to war," I whispered to my new husband. Broken Strings: The Mafia Wife’s Exit
Mafia I was bleeding out in the dark, bound to a chair, when I heard my husband tell another woman he would burn the world down for her.
Dante Moretti didn't know I was on the other side of the paper-thin wall.
He didn't know that ten years ago, I was the girl who saved his life in a frozen cave, not his mistress, Sofia.
Sofia had stolen my story, and now she was stealing my life.
When I tried to leave him, Dante chained me in his dungeon and whipped me until I passed out, claiming he was "disciplining" his wife.
When Sofia used steel cello strings to slice my fingers open, destroying my ability to ever play again, he looked the other way.
He even chose to save her over me when we fell into the freezing ocean, leaving me to drown because "Sofia is my soul."
That night, I finally stopped fighting for a man who didn't exist.
I called my brother, the Don of New York.
"The alliance is over," I whispered into the phone. "Take me home."
It took Dante three months to uncover the truth. To see the medical records proving I was the one who dragged him from that cave.
He burned his own boat to trap us on an island, begging for a second chance.
"I can fix this," he pleaded, tears streaming down his face as he touched my scarred, ruined hands.
I looked at him, then at the man standing behind him with a rifle—the man who actually loved me.
"You can't fix a shattered vase, Dante," I said.
Then I watched my new protector pull the trigger. Broken Vows And Paris Lights: My New Beginning
Modern For fifteen years, I buried my dream of motherhood because my husband, Bennett, swore he carried a tragic genetic defect.
"If we have children, they will suffer," he had cried on our bathroom floor.
I believed him. I made him my religion.
But at a charity gala, everything shattered. He introduced his twenty-two-year-old mistress as his "little sister," only to announce moments later that she was pregnant with his heir.
He never had a genetic defect. He just didn't want a child with me.
The humiliation didn't stop there. He moved her into our home. He took my grandmother’s emerald necklace, reset the stone, and fastened it around her neck in front of our friends.
When I tried to leave quietly, he sneered that I was jealous and toxic. He was confident he could break me, planning to manipulate me into eventually helping raise his mistress's baby.
He didn't know two things.
First, his mistress was faking the pregnancy to trap him.
Second, I wasn't going to stay to watch the fallout.
While he rushed her to the hospital for a staged emergency, blaming me for her "pain," I quietly boarded a private jet to Paris.
I deleted my number. I destroyed my SIM card. I reclaimed my maiden name.
By the time Bennett realized his "heir" was a lie and his wife was gone, I was already starting a new life where he didn't exist. Ashes of Love, Flames of Justice
Modern My phone buzzed on the counter of the vet clinic, a harsh sound, demanding my attention from a complicated case. It was Mark, my husband, sharp and impatient.
"Chloe, drop whatever you' re doing. I need you."
He needed his backup drive, for the biggest night of his career, a speech about 'sacrifice' and 'unwavering support', to impress his investors. I, his vet-tech wife, was racing home to fetch it, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.
When I arrived, he was radiant on stage, spouting platitudes about family while I clutched the hard drive in the shadows, my stomach twisting. My phone vibrated: Dr. Reed, our son Leo' s specialist.
"Chloe, the new treatment protocol is our best option, but we need to start immediately. The hospital requires a significant deposit."
It was an unimaginable sum. I looked through the glass at Mark, laughing with investors, the hard drive forgotten. Leo and I were not in his world. In that moment, something inside me shifted.
The long, slow burn of resentment ignited into cold, clear purpose. I wasn't going to wait for him. I wasn't going to ask him. I drove directly to sell my father' s classic Mustang – my most prized possession – for the cash.
Returning home, a bright orange notice was slapped on our front door: NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE. My key wouldn' t work. My credit card was declined. I called Mark, his voice laced with fury.
"Where the hell did you go? You embarrassed me, Chloe!"
"The house, Mark," I whispered, trembling. "There' s a foreclosure notice. My keys don' t work."
"I mortgaged it. Months ago. The startup needed a cash infusion," he sneered. "It' s gone, Chloe. My last-ditch funding failed because I was too damn distracted by all this drama with Leo. Your drama."
Rain plastering my hair to my face, I sank to my knees.
"We' re done," he said. "I told the bank to change the locks. You can get your things tomorrow."
He hung up. Just then, Leo, pale and frail, opened the door.
"Mommy? Why is Daddy yelling? Are we leaving our house?"
His simple words cut through my shock. I pulled him close, whispering, "What if it was just you and me from now on? A new life. Would that be okay?"
He nodded, trusting. That was all I needed. The Reluctant Heir's Wildcat
Romance My life as the "Montana Wildcat" was all about rebellion against the stuffy East Coast elite.
But when an old blackmail threat jeopardized my Senator father's career, I was forced into a desperate solution: a fake engagement to Sterling Prescott IV, the blue-blood heir who personified everything I ran from.
My plan was simple: unleash enough chaos to scare off the Prescotts and annul the whole charade.
Instead, his formidable grandmother imprisoned me in their lavish estate for a forced "refinement," and strangely, Sterling became my unexpected confidante and ally, stealing midnight burgers and listening to my wild tales.
Just as our fake relationship started feeling disturbingly real, my world shattered.
Suddenly, the FBI stormed our home, planting fake evidence on my laptop that implicated my father in a national security scandal, destroying his career overnight.
The final blow came with paparazzi photos showing Sterling, seemingly abandoning me, arm-in-arm with Blair Vanderbilt, the daughter of my father' s bitter rival.
The man I'd grudgingly begun to trust, who had broken through all my walls, had seemingly betrayed me when I needed him most, leaving me heartbroken and politically ruined, a pariah.
Then, at my father's televised Senate hearing, where his career was moments from collapse, Sterling walked in.
He carried a briefcase and a recording that would not only clear my father's name but expose the true architect of our downfall, turning everything I thought I knew on its head. His Faked Death, My True Love
Romance My eyes snapped open. Sunlight streamed through familiar curtains in what was undeniably my childhood bedroom on a military base.
But a stark, chilling truth hit me: I died. I vividly remembered fire, twisted metal, and then a profound, cold darkness.
My father, General Miller, walked in, his voice deep and reassuring.
"Sarah, you're awake. We need to talk about your future." He began to speak of Captain Mark Olsen, the perfect, ambitious officer everyone expected me to choose.
The name was a bitter taste. Because in my first life, I married Mark.
Then came the devastating news: killed in action. The grief consumed me.
I stopped living, leading to my own tragic car accident months later. My world ended.
But it wasn't true. As a lingering spirit, I watched my world shatter while his continued.
Mark, alive and vibrant, laughing with Tiffany Evans, his arm around her.
They had faked his death, eloped, and built a long, happy life together, completely discarding the woman who died for him.
The rage, the profound betrayal, morphed from a cold fire to a precise, icy shard in my chest.
Why did I endure such suffering, such a cruel end, while they basked in their deceitful bliss? The injustice was unbearable.
But this was it. My second chance.
A precious, impossible gift.
This time, there would be no Mark Olsen.
This time, I' d choose differently.
This time, my life wouldn' t end in ashes. The Governess's Million-Dollar Mission
Romance My brother Leo's medical bills were a crushing weight, pulling us both into a financial black hole.
Then, a lifeline: a contract, presented by a lawyer with a voice dry as old parchment.
My mission for the next year: transform the Kincaid children, Oliver and Chloe, into "presentable" figures for their prestigious annual gala.
The payment was astronomical, the only hope I had to save Leo.
I signed, ready to become the stern governess, Sarah Hayes.
Stepping into the marble-floored entryway of the Long Island mansion, I faced two miniature tyrants.
Oliver, thirteen, oozed practiced apathy, while Chloe, ten, clutched a tablet displaying designer logos.
"Another one? How long you gonna last, lady?" Oliver sneered, followed by Chloe's contemptuous, "Do you even know who I am?"
Their father, perpetually attached to his phone, was nowhere to be found, leaving me to face their immediate, blatant rebellion alone.
My first command was simple: hand over the skateboard and the tablet.
This unleashed an explosion of outrage.
"This is child abuse!" Oliver shrieked, threatening to call his wealthy, absent father.
Chloe's wail was operatic, as if I’d declared her streaks and followers dead.
The contract had warned of testing, but the sheer entitlement was a shock, making every small step feel like a war.
How was I supposed to achieve "significant improvement" when their every instinct was to resist and undermine me?
The Kincaid money, critical for Leo's surgery and recovery, felt like a constant mockery against their spoiled lives.
The weight of my brother's future pressed down, reminding me that I absolutely could not fail, no matter how impossible the task seemed.
My quiet thought, "Managing these two? How hard can it be?" now echoed like the most foolish words ever spoken.
I held out my hand, unflinching, for the skateboard and tablet.
Their resistance was part of the job description, a challenge I had to overcome for Leo.
This was my new regime, unyielding, strict, and it had just begun.
My personal philosophy was simple: family first. You might like
Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. Pampered By The Cold Mind Reading Tycoon
Hen Bu I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs.
My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister.
But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed.
In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably.
Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head.
"This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!"
I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family.
But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn.
He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala.
He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect.
I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast?
It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me.
He could hear my inner thoughts! Bought The Billionaire For One Night
Cait A week before my wedding, I went to the airport parking garage to surprise my fiancé with a luxury watch.
Instead, I caught him having sex in his car with my best friend and maid of honor.
Devastated and desperate to forget, I went to an exclusive club and blew my $50,000 trust fund to buy a one-night stand with a gorgeous stranger.
But the nightmare was just beginning.
At work, my cheating best friend stole my hard-earned promotion, and my ex shamelessly defended her.
Worse, the escort I had paid for sex turned out to be the ruthless new CEO of my airline.
He tormented me on a flight to Paris. When I was robbed of my passport and wallet on the freezing streets, he forced me to be his gala date just to get my life back.
But the ultimate trap was waiting for me in New York.
A secretly taken photo of me leaving the CEO's penthouse leaked on the company forum.
"I knew she got that Paris trip for a reason."
My ex and my former best friend led the charge in the comments, framing me as a shameless gold digger who slept her way to the top.
I was stripped of my flying credentials, suspended from the job I loved, and publicly humiliated.
I didn't understand why the CEO was playing these cruel games, or who had orchestrated this perfect trap to ruin my life.
Standing outside the airport with my career in ashes, I realized crying wouldn't save me.
I wiped my tears, accepted my mother's invitation to a high-society mixer, and prepared to make everyone who set me up pay the price. Too Late: The Masked Heiress Returns
Annabell Seto Chloe Beaumont's adopted sister, Victoria, handed her a glass of champagne with a sweet smile right before the violent car crash.
Victoria and Chloe's fiancé, Asher, left her in the freezing rain with broken ribs and a dislocated arm, certain she would die.
When Chloe dragged her bleeding, mud-caked body back to the estate three days later, her family didn't offer a shred of comfort.
Instead, Victoria squeezed out fake tears, claiming Chloe had gone insane.
"Mother! Chloe came back and started saying these crazy things, and then she attacked me!"
Her stepmother slapped her, her brothers called her a disgrace, and her father coldly watched as they accused Chloe of faking her horrific wounds for attention.
They even conspired to marry her off to a dying, reclusive heir just to clear the path for Victoria's grand engagement.
Looking at their disgusted faces, Chloe's usually warm eyes turned to ice.
She finally understood that her own family never cared if she lived or died; they only wanted her out of the way.
But she wasn't the weak, naive girl they thought they had broken.
Using her hidden skills, Chloe meticulously painted a grotesque, permanent-looking burn scar across her cheek.
She picked the lock of her bedroom door and headed straight for Victoria and Asher's lavish engagement party.
If they wanted to treat her like a ruined monster, she would use that mask to tear their perfect, glittering world to shreds. 
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