The Billionaire Wife Is A Shemale

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Sofia

It was one of those big parties, the kind where so many people are invited that you’re only going to know a handful of people there. Publicity was important to my parents. As one of the most famous hotel owners in the country, my father had an image to uphold. Success. Popularity. Money. Those were all important to him.

But they were more important to my mother.

It was the grand opening of our new hotel in Florence, Tuscan Rose—with three hundred rooms, a gorgeous lobby, three pools, and everything anyone would want for a summer vacation in Italy.

I was only eighteen years old, but someday, this hotel would be mine. I would run it with the same integrity my father did, with the same attention to detail, and with the best customer service any guest could ask for.

But for tonight, I was still too young to even think about those things. In my black party dress with my hair pulled to one side, I stepped into the ballroom and watched everyone mingle, holding cocktails as they appreciated the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the wagyu beef appetizers being passed around by the waiters.

I stood off to the side and stared at them all. It was a fun party, but since I was the youngest person there, I felt out of place.

My father came out of the crowd, tall, lean, and with a moustache that he’d sported as long as I could remember, and placed his hand at the small of my back. “There you are, Sofia. I wanted to introduce you to a couple people.”

I was tired of meeting new people that I would never remember. Their faces wouldn’t register, and their names would only be in my brain for two seconds before I forgot them too. I was proud of my father and everything he accomplished, but I was also bored by the whole ordeal. “Sure.”

He guided me to a group of older men. We shook hands, exchanged pleasantries, and my father proudly introduced me as his beautiful daughter. More niceties were exchanged before they moved away.

Then the most beautiful man in the world walked right up to us. Young, muscular, and with a light shadow on his jawline just the way I liked, he approached us both confidently and shook my father’s hand. “Congratulations, Peter. This hotel will be here hundreds of years.” He held himself perfectly straight, a handsome face on a strong frame. His black suit was nearly the color of his dark hair, and his brown eyes looked like two pieces of melted chocolate. He was definitely older than me, but much younger than the rest of the guests at the party.

When he shifted his gaze to me, my knees grew weak and I felt so damn shy. I was usually a mouthy and sassy girl, but all that attitude disappeared when I came face-to-face with a real man.

He was nothing like the boys I’d liked before.

He was mature wine, aged beef.

I shouldn’t even look at him that way. He was too old for me.

The man shifted his gaze to me then extended his hand. “You must be Sofia. Your father has told me so much about you.”

It took a few seconds for me to react, to reciprocate his gesture with a handshake.

He squeezed my hand hard, and then let go.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I forced myself to say.

His eyes lingered on mine for a moment longer before he turned back to my father. “Lovely party. I expect we’ll be here all night.”

“I hope so. I paid for a lot of booze, so we’d better drink it all.” He chuckled then looked at me. “This fine young man is making a name for himself in the finance world. I suspect he’ll be a big asset to us in a few years.”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re probably right.” He politely excused himself. “Have a good evening, Mr. Romano.”

“You too.” When he was gone, my father turned back to me. “Having a good time, Sofia?”

I’d been pretty bored…until he showed up. “Yeah…I think I am.”

I tried not to make my stare obvious, but it seemed like every time I looked at that hot man, he was already looking at me.

So he caught my stare.