Mr. Bossy Billionaire

MR. BOSSY BILLIONAIRE A MANHATTAN MEN NOVEL JACOB PARKER STAR KEY PRESS CONTENTS Find Jacob Parker Description Introduction Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Epilogue Insiders Group About the Author Copyright FIND JACOB PARKER https://jacobparkerbooks.com/ DESCRIPTION Tutus and leotards are not my thing. Hot ballerina teachers? Yes. But as a single dad, I’m trying to embrace my daughter’s love for ballet. It hasn’t been easy. Until I meet her sexy dance teacher. I’m all about embracing her and all her curves. She might be soft in my hands, but she’s merciless as a teacher. As a father, it’s my job to protect my daughter. But as a man? This teacher has me lying awake at night. I’m willing to throw myself at her pretty pink ballet slippers to get what I want. If only. Things get complicated when money gets involved. I thought I was doing the right thing by my girls. But my ballerina might not be as graceful as she looks. Either way. She’s mine. Introduction Hey! I’m missing you over here in my Insiders Group. Where you at?!? Come grab your spot and let’s connect. Also, you get a FREE novel for joining. Trust me, you DON’T want to miss it! See you on the inside… Join my insiders HERE! 1 MARKOS “Thank you.” I took the glass of champagne from the server, then took a sip and scanned the room. As usual, it was packed. It always was. It was the annual charity ball to kick off the new year. The Manhattan family was known for this event. Every year, the planners tried to outdo the year before. A man in a black tux with the standard black mask over his eyes and nose walked my way. It was a masquerade ball. Everyone was wearing their version of a mask. While the masks concealed the identities of the strangers in the room, it couldn’t hide my brother. Any of my brothers or cousins for that matter. “I thought you might try and skip out,” Otto said. “Nah.” I took another drink. “It’s not so bad.” My older brother stood shoulder to shoulder with me while we both watched our family and guests dance and enjoy themselves. Music filled the room. The live band, a group that had some big hits in the nineties, was on stage belting out an upbeat dance song. Women in beautiful ball gowns and enough jewelry to fill a Tiffany’s storefront moved around the room. Men all in black tuxedos mingled together. Some were clearly on the prowl. The mysteriousness of the masquerade ball always led to an air of excitement. “See anything that catches your eye?” I asked him casually. He shrugged a wide shoulder. “These things make me nervous.” “How so?” I asked with a laugh. “I guess I’m a little worried my ex might be under one of those masks,” he replied. “I would like to think I would know her, but she’s a chameleon. My luck, she’d be the one I picked out of the crowd.” “Do you really think she would show up to this?” I asked him. “I wouldn’t put it past her,” he replied. “Or one of her friends.” Otto had been burned pretty bad by his ex. It left a rotten taste in his mouth and had made him a little bitter. We were the two brothers that could relate to losing the woman we loved. “Able looks happy,” I commented. We watched our younger brother dance with his wife, Sarah. The two were terrible dancers and making fools of themselves, but neither seemed to care. “Texas looks good on him,” Otto said. “I half-expected him to show up with boots on.” “You can take the boy out of Manhattan, but you can’t take the Manhattan out of him,” I said with a laugh. “Did Selena beg you to bring her tonight?” he asked. We started to move around the room. As the sons of the powerful Manhattan family, part of our role was to mingle and be seen. If we didn’t make an effort to smile, nod, and shake hands with the guests, our mother would be on our asses. We were grown men, but no one messed with Anne Manhattan. “She did.” I smiled thinking about my nine-year-old’s pleas. “She made all kinds of promises to stay out of the way and be good.” “She’d be a lot more fun than some of these people,” he said under his breath when a couple of people came directly toward us. We both smiled, shook hands, and participated in a little small talk before extracting ourselves. I didn’t hate the events we were required to attend, but I could think of a hundred other things I would rather do. Hanging out at home with my little girl was one of them. Watching football or taking the dog for a walk. But I supposed the cross we had to carry because of our last name wasn’t all that bad. “Markos!” A woman in a black lace mask rushed toward me. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and patted my chest. “Sorry,” my cousin Case said from behind her. He pulled his wife to his side. “We’ve been hitting the champagne kind of hard. When I say we, I mean Emma. Just Emma.” “Stop,” she said with a laugh. “I’m in a good mood. A great mood! The company just posted the best holiday numbers yet!” “Congratulations,” I said. “We have to get the girls together,” she went on while leaning heavily