All Chapters of Timothy; My Forbidden Temptation: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

~PRESENT DAY~Ethan woke with a pounding in his skull, the kind of headache that throbbed behind his eyes and refused to let him rest. Sleep had eluded him since their return from the Delula Fashion Hub, and no matter how many times he tried to close his eyes, a certain face forced its way into his mind—sharp, arrogant, unforgettable.Tim.Tim Dorian.The name alone set Ethan’s jaw tight. That young man—cocky, self-possessed, with eyes that seemed to look through him instead of at him had managed to shake something deep inside him. The incident from last night rushed back with the violence of a whirlwind.He swung his legs out of bed, muttering to himself, voice harsh and low.“How dare he? What does he know about me? He knows nothing.”The words echoed against the marble of the washroom as Ethan stepped under the spray, the water doing little to wash away his thoughts. By the time he dressed and made his way to the dining hall, his mask of control was back in place.The long dinner t

~Later That Afternoon~Madison’s perfectly manicured nails drummed restlessly against the edge of Harrison Fabian’s mahogany desk. Her eyes, sharp, stormy, and brimming with a fury she rarely allowed anyone to see, cut straight into the man before her.“What do you mean by we still don’t have access to the original documents, Harrison?” she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice carrying the venom of a serpent ready to strike.Harrison Fabian — the man who had once promised her the world, who had schemed with her fifteen years ago to secure the fortune and empire of the Hemsworth estate shifted uneasily in his leather chair. His office was lined with shelves of law books and dark portraits, but in that moment, even the grandeur of the room felt suffocating under Madison’s rage.He swallowed. “Madison… I’ve told you before. The documents were hidden in Alexandra’s private study. He was meticulous, secretive. He placed them in a safe, one I know exists. But the location of the key…”

Ethan steadied himself at last, though his heart raced beneath his ribs and his hands shook with a nervous energy he never knew he possessed. His entire body was a battleground of contrasts — control, composure, and something dangerously close to desire.He drew a sharp breath, meeting Tim's gaze, his voice cutting through the tension like steel."You are going to watch your tone with me, Mr Dorian," he said, low and even, not blinking. "And stop this insinuating of what is not."Tim's eyebrows rose somewhat, that maddening smirk tugging at his mouth — the kind of smirk that appeared to be both challenge and certainty. He tilted his head, voice cool, teasing, and yet subtly inquiring."Insinuating?" he echoed softly.Ethan squared his shoulders, feet planted. "Yes. Insinuating." His tone was harder now, each word slow and measured. "Quit implying what isn't so."He took a slow step forward, closing the space between them to inches where he could discern the faint glint of amber light

The sunrise over Nashville was a pale, mocking gold, bleeding through the heavy velvet curtains of Ethan’s bedroom. He hadn't slept. The scent of Tim Dorian—that clean, angelic, dangerous aroma seemed to have seeped into the very fibres of his skin, refusing to be washed away by the scalding shower he’d taken at 4 A.M.He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the tuxedo draped over the armchair. It looked like a discarded skin. "Lust," Tim had whispered. The word was a bruise on Ethan’s soul. He felt like he was signing his own death warrant as memories of last night flooded him before he could stop them.It had felt like an eternity, staring into Tim Dorian’s immaculate, mesmerising deep brown eyes. Tim’s breath had been just inches from Ethan’s face, causing Ethan’s whole body to react in ways he didn't want—especially not in public, and especially not with the eyes that were beginning to pry on them. Their stance and stare-off had been gaining attention around the gala, a silent e

"What do you mean the business account is going bankrupt, Mr Hemist?" Madison’s roar ripped through the boardroom, the sound so sharp it seemed to vibrate the heavy crystal carafe in the centre of the table. The executives around her shivered, their postures shrinking under the weight of her wrath. The Wellman Estates—a booming titan of Nashville for decades—had been struck by a bolt of lightning in the form of a single bank letter. Madison sat at the head of the table, her knuckles white as she gripped the leather arms of the CEO chair. To her right, Ethan sat as the COO, his expression a mask of stony calm, though his mind was racing. He didn't miss the flicker of raw horror behind his mother’s eyes. He knew Madison Wellman better than anyone; she didn't just love wealth—she worshipped the power and fame it afforded her. To lose it wasn't just a financial failure; it was an amputation. She was a wounded animal now, and even Ethan knew to be wary of her claws. "Well? Will someon