LARA MORRISON
11 Published Stories
LARA MORRISON's Books and Stories
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. 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. Her Vanishing Act, His Deep Regret
Short stories For years, I endured my husband Kellan's disdain, while he bent over backwards to please my scheming younger sister.
When a sudden aneurysm required emergency life-saving surgery, I called him from the ER in absolute despair.
He was busy celebrating my sister's new job. After listening to the lies she whispered about me in the background, he actually cursed at me.
"If you're going to put on this act, don't bother coming home."
He hung up the phone. I signed the surgery consent form alone, facing life and death all by myself.
On the operating table, I hemorrhaged heavily. Not only did I lose my health, but I also lost the unborn little life I hadn't even had the chance to tell him about.
Lying in the recovery room, I finally understood. His vows were nothing but empty lies, and I was always the expendable one in that relationship.
And so, I signed the divorce papers and vanished from his life completely.
Yet, he started looking for me like a madman, even taking revenge on everyone who had ever hurt me! Too Late For Regret, Underboss
Mafia For two years, my world was circumscribed by the biometric lock on our penthouse and silent prayers for my husband, Vincenzo, the most feared Underboss of the Cosa Nostra.
But when he finally returned from a brutal three-week smuggling route, he tossed me a cheap five-dollar tourist scarf, while his ex-lover Camilla flaunted the flawless pearl necklace he had just bought her.
He abandoned me with a bleeding hand to rush to her side, ignored my severe medical emergencies to comfort her over trivialities, and publicly humiliated me at a Syndicate banquet by seating her in my rightful place at the head of the table.
Camilla cornered me in the powder room, her fragile victim facade dropping instantly as she smirked at my reflection.
"The thing a powerful man fears most isn't a wife who screams. It's a useless one who refuses to bow out gracefully."
I endured his blatant disrespect and broken Omertà, wondering why my unwavering loyalty meant nothing compared to the manipulative tears of a woman who was actively leaking his classified safehouse coordinates.
I didn't understand why he treated his sacred vows like garbage, eagerly feeding her Syndicate intel just to play the big, strong hero while leaving me to face cartel death threats entirely alone.
But I was done being the neglected mafia wife waiting in the shadows.
I calmly activated the covert audio recording device hidden inside my designer clutch.
It was time to present this irrefutable evidence to the Don's Tribunal, strip my husband of his title, and build my own empire. 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. 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. 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
The Unwanted Wife's Genius Comeback
Gertrude I flew cross-country for my birthday, hoping for just one night of warmth with my husband and five-year-old daughter.
But when I opened the door, I found my famous hockey star husband and my daughter acting like the perfect family with Dayna, a glamorous sports commentator.
My daughter shrank away from my open arms.
"Mama's boring. She never plays with me. Don't go, Auntie Dayna!"
My husband didn't even look up from his phone to wish me a happy birthday.
He coldly canceled our dinner plans, claiming he had an urgent, last-minute strategy meeting for his team.
Hours later, a TMZ article popped up on my phone, featuring a brutal photo of the three of them sharing a steak at an upscale Manhattan restaurant.
The headline praised Blake's "family dinner with rumored flame Dayna Nixon" and openly wondered where the current Mrs. Carlisle was.
My daughter lied for this, and my husband publicly humiliated me, treating my five years of silent sacrifice like a pathetic, disposable joke.
I didn't cry, and I didn't throw a desperate fit.
Instead, I calmly walked into his study, signed the pre-nuptial divorce agreement he had prepared years ago, and booked a one-way ticket back to Boston.
From now on, I am no longer Mrs. Carlisle. I am Corinne Sargent, and I am taking my life back. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Rejected By My Ex, Desired By His Father
Glitch Petal After six years together, Joslyn was abandoned before her wedding when her boyfriend chose his first love over her.
Then came an unexpected proposal-from Connor, her ex-boyfriend's adoptive father. "Marry me. You'll get everything you want-and you can get back at him."
The deal came with its perks: a lavish monthly allowance, abundant resources at her fingertips, a husband who was practically never home, and the sheer pleasure of rubbing her new status in her ex-boyfriend's face.
But the distant husband she expected turned possessive instead.
While her ex begged publicly for another chance, Connor pulled her into his arms. "Say that again, and you'll be out of the family forever."
Only later did Joslyn discover the truth-Connor had spent six years planning to make her his.
Believing it was only a beneficial deal, Joslyn agreed.
Constant traveling? A complete lie. And the promise that they'd each live their own lives? Another carefully spun deception. On their wedding night, he had her pinned beneath him, his kisses stealing her breath. And night after night, he kept coming home-utterly fixated on her. Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. Mr. Billionaire, Your Madness Belongs To Me!
wheat globe When Natalie's hearing returned, betrayal was the devastating truth waiting for her.
She repaid the cheating pair with sharp slaps, then took her sister's place in an arranged marriage.
Her groom, Nathan, was rumored to be frail, vicious, and unable to satisfy a woman.
Their wedding night, however, demolished every warning when he pinned her against the glass and challenged the rumor himself. Three relentless days proved the gossip laughably wrong.
Later, her groveling ex begged her back. Nathan asked for a knife to deal with the "pest."
Everyone saw a monster. Natalie alone knew his madness hid a love that burned only for her. Secretly Extraordinary: I'm The Crown Jewel You Failed To Treasure
Anemic Sun For three years, Allison poured herself into marriage, caring for Henry and their home while he gave her nothing but silence.
When his first love returned, he handed her divorce papers and cast her aside.
Heartbroken, Allison walked away and reclaimed the brilliant life she had buried-becoming a famed jewelry designer, restoration master, and mysterious healer.
Only then did everyone learn Henry's unwanted wife was a hidden genius.
Late one night, he called, begging for another chance.
Before she could answer, a male voice spoke. "Allison, who's that?"
Allison answered aloofly, "Just a scammer." 
/0/85100/coverorgin.jpg?v=22b9dc4444fa2b39ff06a099f7a6fa73&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82648/coverorgin.jpg?v=37ad5077d01c5e7a3f5e67569a1db062&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125485/coverorgin.jpg?v=cbba2604f18510b82199bdb7731f5eac&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/120962/coverorgin.jpg?v=7d266e0efa211adbea23ffb2e3b74eda&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114580/coverorgin.jpg?v=8b17634769d07e67004ba044b881672b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114135/coverorgin.jpg?v=72eecb934d740b68e87432031398b123&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/108146/coverorgin.jpg?v=da6d389e61825557551d4de4b6a1e316&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104481/coverorgin.jpg?v=f88fbdc94d7e30dc0477755399d5849d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101857/coverorgin.jpg?v=dabbf64065d12faa66c4c4402c95f9f0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83412/coverorgin.jpg?v=3d23163caf2d3440dfe369316ec9c6d2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80488/coverorgin.jpg?v=1cc7ded89c8a75981afc0f8b81d84219&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125337/coverorgin.jpg?v=24afca812288932ae296eb61c1ca0c60&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112008/coverorgin.jpg?v=2b0abcab944971bf058c4d3da02bb538&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113362/coverorgin.jpg?v=5efb20621f255e262e29bdba5df38f3b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/116729/coverorgin.jpg?v=42f9f39690a22809df88aa08d304e9ab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/116324/coverorgin.jpg?v=e476f68e3ee54a6ef2316ce5529c716a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/124669/coverorgin.jpg?v=99cd20ef56c6811c06bbd42287c1c57e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113343/coverorgin.jpg?v=ed25261f7a2d99e11acd800d6c850bbf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/124395/coverorgin.jpg?v=d5fb2d97617f6bebdea422e5e2dc2fd5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114901/coverorgin.jpg?v=20006cfc4521987e716c05971553339f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/118195/coverorgin.jpg?v=f2f88fb7fa5b66441b79a31b89066519&imageMogr2/format/webp)