Billionaire Playboy I

Billionaire Playboy I

Xavier Fernando

I never thought it possible to feel an attraction for anyone.

I'm an artist and I have a new contract with The Golden Gallery. I've got best friends who get me and my jokes and a family who supports and loves me. What more could I possibly want or need? I have it all except, I just don't know what it means to be in love. I've never experienced it nor been attracted to anyone in my life. I don't think it's a bad thing and despite the fact that most people prefer to slot me into the ace spectrum, I don't necessarily see myself in that category. I am happy the way I am, content even or at least, I tell myself that, shoving away the idea that there's something wrong with me.

Andre Tomasine

I never thought I'd ever be attracted to a man.

You probably know me as the Billionaire Playboy. I come from generations of old money and started my first business venture at age nineteen. The Golden Gallery was my baby and I watched it grow into a huge success all over the world. The first time I set eyes on Xavier Fernando, my world was rocked and turned upside down. I couldn't get him out of my mind and I tried to write it off as being impressed by his genius skills as an artist. It worked too until we bumped into each other again, literally, and the same heady feeling came over me. In an attempt to understand why I was feeling this way, I decided to get closer to Xavier, and to know the man behind the art.

Genre: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Contemporary Romance

Length: 45,300 words

The Billionaire Playboy I

The Billionaire Playboy Trilogy 1

Toby Aden

A SELF PUBLISHING BOOK

THE BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY I

Copyright © 2017 by Toby Aden

ISBN-13: 978-1979903813

ISBN-10: 1979903816

First Publication: November 2017

Cover design by JP Graphics Designs

All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Toby Aden.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

If you find a Toby Aden e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at

www.tobyaden.wix.com/author

PUBLISHER

Toby Aden

www.tobyaden.wix.com/author

DEDICATION

To all my fans out there and to my family. Much thanks to all my Beta Reader Team for assisting and pouring their time and energy into communicating with me for this book and working endlessly on it to get it out for you readers to enjoy. Your help was more than appreciated.

Much Love,

Toby.

Table Of Content

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About Author

Sneak Peak…

Other Works By Toby Aden

Chapter One

Xavier Fernando ~ The Call

I am living my dream as an art major at the most prestigious art school in New York and sharing an apartment off-campus with two other roommates who are also my best friends. Life is good. Life is very good indeed. In fact, my life is almost like a fairytale with the most down-to-earth parents whose love and support I never questioned. An Italian-American by descent, I’ll admit I’d been a bit reluctant to share with family and friends the fact that I had no idea what sexual orientation I classified as. But what you should know about me is that I don’t give much credence to labels and trying to fit myself into a box.

I had dreaded coming out to them, but like every other situation where I was nervous, I brazened through it. One night at the family dinner table, I’d simply said, I’m bi. Pass the bread please.

My family had blinked once then passed the bread and continued dinner as though nothing profound had just happened. The only thing my father had said was. Good for you, son. Got a boyfriend or girlfriend yet?

My response had been to scoff, shrugging as though it was an everyday subject to discuss. Course not, Papa. If I had a boyfriend or girlfriend, I’d have brought him or her here, and besides, I think I lean more towards the ace spectrum. I had said that because it was the term most people understood without my actually having to shock them with how completely off that label was with regards to me.

My sister had been the most outrageous one saying, Cool. We can both ogle boys then.

My mother had burst into laughter at that, and I had pinned Carla with a mischievous look. Really and what boys are you looking at?

Sheesh. I’m sixteen, you know, Carla had responded.

Snorting, I had responded by saying, Better not let me catch any of them sniffing around you, or they’ll wish they’d never met you.

You’re being ridiculous. Dad, tell him, Carla had said causing the parents to dissolve into laughter, and that had been the end of my coming out.

My family, as usual, had taken it all in stride. I had the life most people would envy. Understanding parents who loved their children unconditionally, an education that I was passionate about along with the support of my parents for my passion and the money to afford all the comforts I desired, not to mention good friends who had my back. I had a lot going for me except for the fact that I’d never been attracted to anyone in my entire life.

It was as though I had no sexual desire at all. No one made me feel anything, and it was as though everyone I met was a cardboard cutout whom I smiled with, talked with, and had fun with but no sizzling feelings, no attraction, no nothing. I’d never met anyone I’d even wanted to kiss. Just the thought of doing that with anyone did not appeal to me at all. When friends had all been talking about sex and their girlfriends or boyfriends, I felt no desire to indulge. There was just… nothing. A big empty blank.

Why I’d decided to even come out to my family, I had no idea. It wasn’t as though I was attracted to boys any more than I was attracted to girls. But, I knew deep within me, if I ever did feel an inkling of anything for anyone, it was more likely to be for a boy. I might be wrong about that too and end up being attracted to a girl in the end but I wasn’t too sure about it anyways and that was why I came out as bi so as not to blindside them later in the far off distant future.

My best friends understood when I’d explained to them. They’d even dubbed me as asexual, and I’d let them not because I felt that way, but because I wasn’t even sure if that label applied to me any more than all the other labels did. I lived my life and ignored the fact that I felt nothing more than friendship for anyone and was still a virgin at the age of twenty-two and hadn’t even been kissed yet.

It wasn’t as though I felt I was missing out either because I wasn’t. I just didn’t see why it was so important for the others around me to get all hyper about dating. I did realize this way of thinking made me an anomaly but that was just the way I was, and I accepted it.

I tapped my foot on the hard floor of my art history class, already bored out of my mind and unable to focus on what the lecturer was saying. With my ADHD, it was a miracle I could even sit still for this long but I loved everything art related, only right now, I couldn’t for the life of me focus. I so wanted this whole day of classes to be done with and to be able to submerge myself in my work. I was currently working on a series of opposites and I couldn’t wait to get back to it.

I loved what I’d done so far, but I still had a way to go until the series was done and I was satisfied. The second the lecture was over, I threw my unopened books into my bag, slung it over my shoulder and began making my way out of the class and the art building.

The vibration of my cell phone ringing in my pocket was the first indication I had an incoming call coupled with the generic ringtone blasting aloud. Pulling the device from my pocket, I stared down at the unfamiliar number displayed on screen. I had no idea who was calling me, and I would have ignored the call except at that time, the distraction was a welcome change from my thoughts and boredom during the entire day. Sliding the answer button on the touchscreen device, I placed the cell against my ear, answering the call.

Xavier Fernando speaking.

Good afternoon, Mr. Fernando, this is Keri Jones from The Golden Gallery, the voice responded over the phone.

The Golden Gallery? Hmm, what could they possible want with me? Ms. Jones. How may I help you?

We would like to invite you over to our Gallery to discuss a possible collaboration, showcasing your work as our centerpiece. My boss saw your work and was very impressed.

Your boss? I don’t think I’ve ever met your boss, I said, my voice skeptical.

No? Did you or did you not partake in the college grand showing held a few weeks back? Keri questioned.

Yes, of course, I did. It was a mandatory coursework.

Good, good. My boss was a guest, and he loved your work and wants more of it. He saw potential in what you showcased and is willing to offer you this opportunity, Keri said.

The Golden Gallery, you say? I know of it.

Good. In that case, we’d like to invite you over for a meeting. If you are interested, of course, Keri said.

Yeah. Of course, I am. When would you like me to come over? I asked, excitement warring with caution in me.

How about Thursday at ten? Keri asked.

Thursday works for me. I’ll be there.

Good. We’ll expect you then. Have a good day, Mr. Fernando.

And you too.

With that, the call ended, and I stared down at my cell, half in shock at a big gallery approaching me for a showing. My work was exceptional. A lot of people had told me so even if I wasn’t always convinced of that fact, but that a huge gallery had recognized my talent and wanted more? It was… astounding.

It had come completely out of the left field, blindsiding me and leaving me confused. Sliding my cell back into my back pocket, I shook my head and began retracing my steps back through the campus and the maze of the art building. I made my way to the head professor’s office and rapped my fingers against the door.

Come on in, the professor called out from inside his office.

Pushing the door open, I walked into the small office, my gaze trained on the professor who had presided over the course where I’d had to showcase my art.

Mr. Fernando, how may I help you? The professor asked.

Hi, Professor Sullivan, I’d like to talk to you about the art show we had a couple weeks ago actually.

Sure, sure. Come in. Anything the matter? If it’s a matter of your grade, I don’t see why you should object to it. After all, you are a very talented young man and one of our best students, the professor said, signaling for me to take a seat opposite him.

Shaking my head, I allowed my hand to rest on the back of the chair but remained standing. It’s not about the grade, Professor Sullivan. It’s related, yes, but this is an entirely different issue.

Well, go on. Tell me.

Dragging a much-needed breath into my lungs, I eyed the professor, not knowing where to begin to explain the phone call I’d just received or what to make of it. I got a call from The Golden Gallery.

The Golden Gallery? Professor Sullivan cut in, eyes sharp and breath held in anticipation. They’re one of the best in the state, the country even. With a branch of their Gallery in almost every state and other countries as well, their patrons usually range from the wealthy to those of old money, a very privileged establishment, and they only showcase the best works. No one but the best and most outstanding artists ever make it a step in there, Professor Sullivan said, almost talking to himself and staring at me as though to confirm we were talking about the same corporation.

"Yes. They said their boss was at the college showcase we