All Chapters of Married To The Disabled CEO : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Emma Carter stared out the window of the sleek black sedan, watching the pristine skyline of Veridia City dissolve into a bleak, rain-drenched stretch of coastal highway. Beside her on the leather seat lay the freshly signed marriage contract—a heartless transaction that officially sold her off to clear the Carter family’s crippling debts. Her stepmother, Evelyn, and her father had made their terms agonizingly clear that morning. Her spoiled younger sister, Vera, had originally been chosen to marry the fallen titan of the Johnson Group. But the moment the news confirmed that Ethan Johnson’s legs were permanently ruined after a horrific car accident, Vera had thrown a violent tantrum, refusing to wed a "useless cripple." Naturally, the family turned to Emma—the neglected eldest daughter who had spent her life existing in the shadows—to serve as the disposable sacrifice. Emma’s fingers tightened around the strap of her modest handbag. They believed they were punishing her, pushing her

The darkness inside Johnson Manor pressed heavy against the tall, arched corridors, broken only by the sharp flashes of lightning through the high windows. The icy dampness of her wet clothes clung to Emma’s skin, but the cold inside her chest was far sharper. Her stepmother’s threat echoed in her mind with every tick of the grand pendulum clock in the hall. Twelve hours. She had less than twelve hours to secure Ethan’s signature before her mother’s life support was pulled. Emma knew that marching up to Ethan’s locked wing right now and demanding a signature on a financial asset transfer would only validate his suspicions. He already viewed her as a spy sent by her family to pick at his bones. If she wanted that signature, she needed to understand the lay of the land first—and locate his private study. Leaving her solitary suitcase near the grand staircase, Emma navigated the sprawling, labyrinthine estate. The sheer scale of the manor was breathtaking, built with dark mahogany panel

Ethan’s grip around Emma’s wrist was like a band of forged iron. His dark eyes burned with dangerous, lethal suspicion, searching her face for any trace of panic. Even flat on his back, bleeding into the expensive rug, the raw power radiating from him was suffocating. "Who trained you?" Ethan growled, his voice a low, gravelly snarl that vibrated in his chest. "You step into my house looking like a drowned rat, but you navigate trauma medicine like a battlefield surgeon. Are you an assassin sent to finish what that car crash started? Or a corporate spy trying to keep me compliant?" Emma didn't attempt to yank her wrist free. She simply looked down at him, her expression completely unbothered by his brute force. "If I were an assassin, Mr. Johnson," Emma said, her voice smooth, icy, and dripping with dry sarcasm, "I wouldn't have broken my own hairpin to pick your lock, nor would I have stopped your femoral bleed. I would have sat comfortably in your kitchen, enjoyed your stolen w

The heavy oak doors of the suite slammed shut behind Daniel and his guards, leaving a echoing, heavy silence in the room. Ethan remained on the hardwood floor, his chest heaving as the adrenaline slowly drained from his body. His jaw remained set, but his dark, lethal gaze slowly drifted upward to the woman standing over him. Emma’s hand was still extended toward him—pale, unshakeable, and steady. For a fraction of a second, Ethan’s posture softened. A flicker of genuine shock crossed his features. But as quickly as it appeared, the warmth vanished, replaced instantly by the cold, savage armor he had worn for the past two years. "I don't need your help," Ethan growled, his voice low and raspy. Ignoring her hand entirely, he slammed his palms against the edge of the leather sofa. With a brutal display of pure upper-body strength, he hoisted his heavy frame off the floor and hauled himself back into the seat of his high-tech wheelchair. He pulled his legs onto the footrests with prac

"This way, ladies!" Vera’s voice echoed shrilly through the high-arched corridor as she ushered her group of smartphone-wielding socialites away from the grand foyer and straight into the manor’s formal drawing room. The drawing room was a breathtaking display of old-money opulence—lined with dark velvet drapes, antique oil portraits, and priceless marble sculptures. Yet Vera paid no attention to the grandeur. Her eyes were fixed entirely on Emma, who had followed the uninvited group into the room to ensure they didn't damage the property. "Just look at this place," Vera announced, turning back to face the livestream camera held by her friend, Chloe. "It’s so utterly dreary, isn't it? But I suppose it suits my sister perfectly. She always did belong in the shadows." Chloe giggled, adjusting the angle of her phone screen. "Vera, the viewers are asking if your sister actually lives here alone with him. Is it true he can't even get out of bed without help?" "Oh, absolutely!" Vera