Elissa Patel Novels & Stories

They had spaghetti, fruit salad, and a cake with a candle shaped 18 on it. Ellaine was forced to speak just to break the awkward silence, “Auntie, a while ago I met a strange woman. Her name is Margarette.” “Margarette? I don’t know a woman named Margarette living in the neighborhood.” “Maybe that’s because she’s living near the city proper. She has this shop selling weird stuffs as well.” Ellaine was not interested in eating her spaghetti anymore. She was merely poking it with her fork. “What kind of weird stuffs?”

Muttering to herself, she said, “But Ella… you think marrying a poor man means a good life? No matter how capable or rich you are, you’ll still have to give in—to him, to his family. Haha… Ella, it’s only right that you can only live like this.” A fellow inmate asked, “Who’s this Ella you’re talking about?” “Heh… who else? My ‘sister’ with no blood relation, who makes me look like the fool all the time,” Piper replied bitterly. “You mean that Ella Hart who won that Paris design award?” the inmate asked. “Yes… that’s her,” Piper said with a bitter laugh. “But isn’t her husband… Sterling Corp’s CEO, Tiesto Sterling? You’ve heard of him, right? The head of the Sterling family in Elaris—he can s

he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. Sheela and Rajesh had always been known for their dedication and initiative. But they knew that to stand out truly, they needed to take on a project that would resonate deeply with their minister, Savita. Savita was a woman of principles, and she was admired for her strong sense of justice and commitment to serving the people. Ever the strategist, Rajesh proposed an idea that he believed would align with Savita's values and elevate her standing among the electorate. Sheela and Rajesh were committed to making a difference; this was their chance.

“What did you say, sir?” Ellis chuckled. “I asked her who she was,” he said. “And she told me she’s Kayla Cortez, son of Fredrick Cortez, the billionaire, who is friends with the vice-president, she added. And probably, also with the president. I asked her what her beef against you was, she said it’s personal. I told her that Misha went through the process and it would be unfair of the company to just remove her from the project just because somebody, eventhough she is the daughter of a billionaire who is friends with the powers-that-be, wants her out. Now, I told her, if she could show me that Misha wasn’t an ideal citizen of this country…that she has a police record…” He paused and chuckl

"What are you saying, Leila? Why don't you focus on something that can earn you more?" "It's okay, I like it here, ma'am. Everyone treats me right," Leila responded. Elsie noticed her throat tighten at the last sentence and saw her tremble as if reliving a nightmare. In her past life, Leila had become a famous actress within three years. But this Leila seemed terrible at hiding her expressions. Elsie noticed a purple mark hidden under Leila's clothes, and her face tightened in sadness. She pondered, 'Why are you protecting someone who doesn't care about you, Leila?'

Biting my lip in concentration. "I think I'm done," I say, his face is outstanding better already. Patching itself together as though nothing happened. He doesn't move, "you're beautiful." I flush. Looking down and picking at my cracked nails. "Stop." Chris merely smiles, "You are Andrea. And I'm going to remind you every chance I get." I fumble to words, to any response. I've never considered myself beautiful. My almost platinum blonde hair was weirdly natural and my blue eyes where so light they sometimes seemed to reflect clouds. But beautiful? No.

Was I just being paranoid? "Men in a mood are best left alone," I pointed out. The woman pouted as she ate the second olive. "Maybe you just need someone to help get you out of that mood." I placed my hands around my whiskey tumbler and tried to ignore her. I knew it would only be a few moments before I made her disappear. "I know you, you know," she started. "Mr. Ellis Peterson. You're a legend, with your multi-billion-dollar company and your… reputation with women."

Ella sneered as she looked at Elise from up till down. "fI you hadn't dressed shabbily we would not have been in this mess. Just know that incase I get punished because of you, you’ll wish that you were never born into this world." Ella continued with her blubbering. Ever since she met that woman she never liked her at all. Her beauty and her seemingly innocent face annoyed her the most. Elise who was from the village would dare compete against her, the daughter of a billionaire at her work place. Ella swore to never let that happen. She would make her life a living hell till she decided to quit by herself.

“You don’t look like I imagined.” “Should I be flattered or insulted?” I shot back. Tapping her manicured nails against the counter. “Neither. Just… surprised. I’ve been hearing your name quite often. Seems like you’re trying to play in the big leagues now.” Jess crossed her arms. “And you are…?” The woman turned to her as if just noticing she existed. “Samantha Elliott.” I knew that name. Samantha Elliott was the Samantha Elliott—the owner of Élité Sweets, one of the most exclusive, high-end bakeries in the city. The kind that catered to celebrities and politicians, the kind that had a six-month waiting list just to place a custom order.

He gave her quarter cookie back, she gave quarter crisps, tradition quarter quarter. Teacher Miss Patel? No, now manager of coffee shop, same Miss Patel, now 10 years older, took photo, posted: Fourth Rose, 20, hates billionaires, meets Noah Carter, 20, Primark 20 holes, half cookie again, circle closes, like mother like daughter like granddaughter like great-granddaughter. Photo went viral, 50M likes, Elise commented: "HALF COOKIE AGAIN! AT 20! LIKE ME AT 26 HALF SAUSAGE! LIKE ROSE AT 20 HALF COOKIE! CIRCLE! FOURTH ROSE! ROSE ROSE ROSE ROSE!"