Among The Laurente

The lavish estate of the Johnson family was unrecognizable, once a symbol of power and prestige, it now stood shrouded in gloom, much like its fallen heir. The grand chandelier, which once sparkled with warmth, now cast cold, muted shadows over the drawing room.

Ethan Johnson sat alone by the window, the rain hammering against the glass a cruel echo of the storm within him. He stared blankly at the wheelchair that had become his prison, his once, strong legs now useless and numb.

A year ago, Ethan had everything: wealth, power, and a future as the heir to the Johnson Group, one of the most influential companies in the country. Women flocked to him, their eyes alight with admiration or greed. Men envied his charisma, his sharp mind, and the way he effortlessly commanded a room. He had been untouchable.

Until the accident.

The brakes had failed. The car had spun out of control. And in one cruel twist of fate, the world he had built came crashing down.

Ethan’s jaw tightened as he remembered the whispers, the cruel laughter from those who once fawned over him.

"Pathetic."

"What good is a crippled CEO?"

"He’s better off hidden away like this."

The voices played on a loop in his mind, each word another dagger to his pride. His friends had vanished. His fiancée had broken off their engagement without a second thought, claiming she "couldn’t be tied to a man like him." Even his family had begun to treat him as a liability rather than a son.

The study door creaked open, pulling Ethan from his thoughts. His mother, Victoria Johnson, swept into the room, her designer heels clicking against the marble floor. Her face, once soft with motherly concern, now bore the hardened lines of a woman who had made a decision.

“You have a visitor,” she announced, her tone curt.

Ethan arched an eyebrow. “Another investor looking to gawk at the family’s fallen heir?”

Victoria’s lips tightened. “No. This concerns your future.”

“My future?” Ethan let out a bitter laugh. “Funny, I thought we’d already decided I didn’t have one.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, Victoria stepped aside to reveal a young woman standing nervously at the threshold. She was petite but carried herself with a quiet strength, her dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Her simple dress was a stark contrast to the grandeur of the estate, yet there was something captivating about her presence.

“This is Emma Carter,” Victoria said briskly. “She’ll be your wife."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he took in the stranger before him.

“My what?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Emma stepped forward, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Your wife,” she repeated, her voice steady despite the fire in Ethan’s glare. “It’s a contract marriage. Your family and mine have already agreed.”

Ethan turned to his mother, disbelief etched into his features. “You can’t be serious.”

Victoria crossed her arms, her gaze icy. “This is the best option for everyone, Ethan. You’ve become a liability to this family. The board is losing confidence. Investors are pulling out. A marriage alliance will stabilize things.”

“And you think she’s the answer?” Ethan gestured toward Emma, who bristled but said nothing. “Some random girl you plucked out of obscurity?”

Emma’s temper flared, but she bit her tongue. She had agreed to this for her own reasons, not to be insulted by a man who clearly had no interest in the arrangement.

“Your family isn’t exactly thrilled with the match either,” Emma shot back, her voice sharp. “But here we are.”

Ethan’s piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the room was silent. Then he leaned back in his wheelchair, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re doing this for the money. For the chance to live in luxury.”

Emma’s eyes flashed with anger, but she refused to rise to the bait. “I’m doing this because I want out of my family’s control,” she said calmly. “This marriage benefits both of us. Or would you rather sit here wallowing while your company crumbles?”

Ethan’s smile faded, replaced by a flicker of something darker. For a moment, Emma thought she had gone too far. But then he laughed, a cold, humorless sound.

“You have no idea what you’re getting into,” he said.

“Neither do you,” Emma replied evenly.

The tension in the room was palpable, but Victoria broke it with a sharp clap of her hands. “Enough. The decision has been made. The wedding is in three days.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He knew when his mother was in this mood, there was no point in arguing. Still, the idea of being tied to a stranger, someone who would undoubtedly pity him or worse, see him as her meal ticket was almost unbearable.

Victoria swept out of the room, leaving Ethan and Emma alone. The silence between them was deafening.

“I don’t want your pity,” Ethan said finally, his voice like steel.

Emma crouched down so they were at eye level. “Good,” she said. “Because you won’t get it.”

Her boldness caught him off guard, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Do you even know what you’re walking into?” he asked, his tone softer now but no less guarded.

Emma met his gaze without flinching. “I know you’ve been through hell. I know people have abandoned you. But I also know you’re stronger than this.”

Before he could reply, Emma continued. “And for the record,” she said, glancing down at his legs, “your condition isn’t permanent.”

Ethan froze. “What did you say?”

“I said your legs can be healed,” Emma replied, standing up. “If you’re willing to fight for it.”

Her words hit him like a thunderclap. For months, he had been told the opposite, that he would never walk again, never reclaim the life he had lost. And yet, here was this stranger, standing in his home, telling him otherwise.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “You’re either incredibly naïve or incredibly stupid.”

Emma smiled faintly. “Or maybe I just see something you don’t.”

Before Ethan could respond, the door burst open. One of his father’s assistants rushed in, his face pale.

“Sir, we have a problem,” he said, his voice trembling. “Your cousin has just filed a lawsuit to take control of the company.”

Ethan’s grip tightened on the wheels of his chair, his gaze darkening. He turned to Emma, his voice low and dangerous.

“You want to help me?” he said. “Prove it.”