Timothy; My Forbidden Temptation

-Fifteen Years Ago-

The Hemsworth mansion glowed like a lantern under the silver sheen of moonlight, its huge glass windows sparkling against the black velvet of the evening. Crystal chandeliers threw shafts of golden light across the shining marble floors, and the enormous ballroom rang with the hum of voices and laughter. Beautiful women in silk gowns twirled easily across the dance floor, their jewels shining in the light like a dash of stars, while gentlemen in sharp tuxedos danced in a circle holding cigars and glasses of champagne. The scent of fine wine and French pastry hung in the air, mixed with the sweetness of roses arranged in towering crystal vases along the walls.

Mellow music genres from a string quartet permeated the air, a soothing background to the clinking of dishes and the muted hum of conversation. Waiters navigated the crowd with ease, silver platters carried high on champagne glasses that glinted in the after-golden gloom. Laughter rolled in waves, sometimes boisterous, sometimes muted, taken on the backs of money and privilege.

Then a distinct clink of glass, keen enough to demand all eyes. Music dissipated, dying away to a mere murmur, until only the very faintest whisper of violins existed. Every eye was on the raised dais in the centre of the room, where the Master of the Ceremonies—a rosy-cheeked young man with a beaming smile held a glass aloft.

Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice ringing with laughter and pride, "I welcome you once more to this splendorous extravaganza, yet another crowning gem of the Hemsworth clan."

There was a murmur of anticipation in the crowd.

"Tonight we gather to see the opening of the Hemsworth Estates," he continued, his voice expanding as he lifted his glass mockingly higher, "which we all know…" He smiled, a wicked crease tracing its way across his mouth. " It's worth billions of dollars."

Laughter exploded up the hallway, unashamed and lavish. Glasses were raised in mock salute, and a wave of chuckles moved like a tide through the glittering guests.

“Without much ado,” the Master of the Ceremonies declared, his smile broadening, “permit me to welcome to the grand floor the man of the hour, the billionaire of our time! And his beautiful family—Alexander Hemsworth!”

The response was thunderous, echoing through the mansion with men clapping shiny shoes in approval and women slapping gloved palms together, their laughter calling forth the tone of bells. The applause of approbation thundered off high ceilings, mingling with the instant burst of victory music as the orchestra struck a celebratory chord. All eyes lingered expectantly on the sweeping staircase, anticipating to witness the coming of power, wealth, and heritage in the figure of the man everyone thought was untouchable—Alexander Hemsworth.

Their applause filled the room as Alexander Hemsworth appeared in the middle of the ballroom, the golden lights dancing across the crisp cut of his midnight-black tuxedo. Tall and commanding, he looked every inch the man his city adored—one of Nashville’s greatest billionaires, a real estate mogul and business tycoon whose generosity had built hospitals, schools, and community centres across West Ville. Ranked number four among the world’s richest men and the unrivalled number one in Nashville, he was more than just wealthy- he was beloved, a figure whose success had become the pride of a city of nine hundred thousand people.

By his side, his wife, Elena Hemsworth, was poise personified.

Her ivory gown emulated simplicity, her beauty warm and dignified, the perfect contrast for her husband's imposing figure. By her side trotted their ten-year-old son, Timothy, his big boy's grin as he clung to his father's hand. With dark hair, bright eyes, and a chest that swelled with youthful pride, Timothy already looked the part of an heir. In his eyes, Alexander was more than a father- he was the model of everything a man should be.

“Hello, everyone!” Alexander’s voice boomed across the hall, resonant and rich, commanding the room with the ease of a man used to being both leader and host. Music melted away completely now, leaving only the reverberations of his words and the soft tinkle of clapping that ran through the guests.

"A privilege," he began, lifting his glass in easy courtesy, "to be here with you all tonight and celebrate the opening of Hemsworth Estates. This billion-dollar development is more than an achievement in commerce. It is a demonstration of community spirit—Nashville's heart and soul." A wave of pleased murmurs swept through the room.

My victory, my profession, the success surrounding us tonight, none of it would be worth it were it not for those who stand with me." He cleared his throat, his gaze rising to Elena with a smile warm and proud. "My beautiful wife, Elena, who has been my anchor through each storm, my co-adventurer in every triumph." He kissed her cheek lightly, which elicited warm applause and affectionate laughter from the crowd.

“And of course,” he added, ruffling Timothy’s hair as the boy giggled, “my son—our son—Timothy. The light of my life, the next heir of the Hemsworth clan, and a young man I have no doubt will outdo even me one day." The boy's laugh was like a bell, enchanting the crowd, their applause growing again.

The moment was perfect, a picture of wealth, family, and heritage. And then Alexander saw her.

From the corner of his eye, a figure emerged, gliding into view as if the very air bent around her presence. Madison Wellman. She was stunning—mid-thirties, with jet-black hair sleeked to perfection, cascading down the back of her crimson gown. The dress was clinging to her body with merciless precision, the seam of the dress displaying long, elegant legs as her stiletto heels rang off the marble. Red lipstick nibbled at the edge of her smile, her beauty paired with danger, her confidence unapologetic. Men’s eyes followed her with hunger while, women’s gazes flickered with envy. She thrived on it.

Her gaze caught Alexander’s. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just the two of them. She gave the faintest tug of her lips—a smile that promised secrets and, with a flick of her wrist, signalled a waiter for wine.

Alexander inhaled sharply, his chest tightening, but by smooth habituation, he got hold of himself. His smile returned even broader, his voice unshaken as he concluded, "Tonight, let us not merely drink to success but to the enjoyment of community, of family, and of the ties that bind us. Please eat, drink, laugh, and make merry!"

The crowd erupted once more, glasses aloft as the orchestra flooded back into music. But as Alexander placed his glass on the table, his eyes drifted once more to the woman in red—the ghost of temptation, already setting about the dismantling of the perfect life he had so courageously declared.

Elena’s smile never faltered, but her heart tightened. She had caught it—the subtle shift in her husband’s demeanour, the sharp edge of tension that slid over him the moment Madison Wellman entered the room. She had seen it before, countless times. The way his aura changed, how his eyes betrayed him before his lips could form an excuse.

But Elena Hemsworth was a woman of poise. She did not gasp, nor clutch his arm, nor confront him in front of their guests. Instead, she dipped her head gracefully as an older couple approached to exchange pleasantries, her voice warm and melodic as though nothing were amiss. She smiled, she laughed, she charmed, yet from the corner of her eye, she saw everything. She saw Alexander excuse himself with quiet haste, slipping toward the back doors of the ballroom. And moments later, she saw Madison follow, her crimson gown slicing through the crowd like a blade.

Elena’s lips curved brighter as the guests leaned in for her attention, but inside, her stomach sank. She knew exactly who that woman was. She always had. Madison Wellman—the leech she could never quite be rid of.

—

“What the hell are you doing here, Madison?” Alexander’s voice was low and sharp as he shoved her back against the cool stone of the corridor wall, away from the laughter and music of the ballroom. His hands pinned her shoulders with the force of anger, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something far more dangerous.

Madison didn’t flinch. Her lips curved, slow and knowing, the gleam of her white teeth flashing like a challenge. Instead of recoiling, she leaned closer, her perfume wrapping around him like smoke. One leg lifted with feline ease, sliding down the length of his thigh, pushing upward until the heat of her touch tickled precariously close to his groin.

“I miss you, Xandy…” she purred, her voice low, sultry, laced with mockery. Then, with a playful tilt of her head, she let her pout curve into a feigned frown. “…Or did you not miss me too?”

Before he could answer, before his restraint could find its footing, Madison tilted her face upward and pressed her lips to his, a brazen kiss that carried both possession and provocation.

For a fleeting second, Alexander gave in. The weight of her lips pressed against his, the taste of wine and sin washing through him as her body arched into his embrace. Madison’s touch was relentless, teasing him with a boldness that spoke of both hunger and ownership. He reached for her right breast and cupped it firmly, earning a soft gasp from her. Then she reached for his other hand and led it straight to her thigh, right where her entrance is— warm, wet and moist. Alex moaned from the action, realising she wasn't wearing any panties.

“I wanted to save you the trouble of ripping it off,” Madison whispered against Alex’s mouth.

“You’re such a bad girl,” Alexander muttered against her mouth, his voice low, roughened by desire he didn’t want to admit as he slid two fingers into her wet entrance, the moist feeling engulfing his fingers while Madison shivered slightly from the rush of ecstasy.

Madison’s smile curved wickedly, her breath warm against his lips. “I’m always your bad girl,” she whispered, her tone both taunting and breathless.

The air between them grew heavier, pulsing with tension. But then footsteps echoed faintly from the corridor beyond, slicing through the haze. Alexander froze, pulling back just enough for reality to reclaim him. His chest rose and fell sharply as he stepped back, his jaw tightening. Madison leaned against the wall, her gown clinging to her like a second skin, her eyes burning with victory even as he straightened himself.

“What are you doing here, Madison?” His voice was hard now, the commanding tone of a man used to being obeyed as he wiped his wet, moist fingers from Madison's moist essence with his handkerchief. “You know my family home is off-limits. What the hell are you doing here?”

She tilted her head, her lips parting in a sultry smile that held no apology. “I told you before, papi bear… I missed you. And since you didn’t bother to return my calls or texts, I thought I’d remind you how unforgettable I am.”

Alexander’s nostrils flared. “I was out of town on business. With Elena. You know that.” His voice lowered, dark, conflicted. “This is not the time, not the place. I need to get back in there.”

For a moment, she pouted, though her eyes glittered with cunning. Then, with a playful flick of her wrist, she reached for the glass of wine she had set aside earlier. Lifting it to him, she murmured, “At least drink with me before you go. You wouldn’t leave me thirsty, would you?”

Alexander smirked despite himself, taking the glass and sipping once. “You’re such a wild cat,” he muttered, setting the glass back down before stepping away. He gave her one last fleeting look, brushing a strand of her dark hair from her face with surprising tenderness. “Tomorrow. The usual place. We’ll finish what you’ve started.” He pressed a brief kiss to her lips—swift, restrained, but enough to leave a spark and then turned back toward the glow of the ballroom.

Madison watched him leave, her lips curling into a smile that no longer carried sweetness. The warmth drained from her expression, leaving only something dark, vile, and calculating. "You have no idea, Alexander," she whispered to herself, her eyes tracking after him.. “No idea what this wildcat has in store for you.”