There was the Parker & Rose Collection that owned space on every block of downtown, The Grand Alaskan that hosted top-tier guests in unparalleled privacy, and my favorite hotel of them all. The one that had ousted The Waldorf Astoria from its top spot in luxury hotels for the tenth year in a row: The Grand Rose on Fifth Avenue.

It was my hundredth hotel, my twentieth in this city. It was the very reason why I knew that New York was mine, and it always would be. Every luxury hotel in Manhattan wanted my touch, and the newest listings from Hilton and Marriott were poor imitations. I’d invented the modern twist on the luxury brand. Everyone else was simply borrowing it.

“Your daily papers, sir.” My driver handed them to me as he opened the back door of the town car. “Interesting headlines today.”

“I doubt it.”

I unfolded the stack as he pulled onto the street, groaning as I looked over the bold and black words.

***

Mister New York—Rumor Report

Preston Parker of Parker Hotels (our very own Mister New York for the eighth year in a row) was caught leaving his penthouse with model Yara Westinghouse. This was days after being seen with Marsha Avery and weeks after being seen with Hanna Bergstrom.

Our reporter stopped him outside of his condo to ask if any of the flings were serious, and he responded with a “Get the fuck off my property.”

As always, we doubt the man will ever settle down with one woman, but he does make our annual October cover look stunning.

***

Ruthless CEO, Preston Parker, Buys Sonoma Hotel Chain, Fires Top Management

Arrogant and ruthless hotel mogul, Preston Parker, has made his most heartless move yet. Once again, he courted a hotel chain for months—pretending as if there would be a genuine brand merger, but he has (not so shockingly) fired all of the current employees. The Parker Hotel International Press team has revealed that the Sonoma Hotels will soon be luxury hotels.

***

Mister New York, Preston Parker, Fathers a Secret Child

A mystery woman who claims to have had a one-night stand with Preston Parker is insisting that her two-week-old daughter is his. She’s seeking five hundred thousand a month in child support and is insisting that he pay her hospital bills.

What the fuck?

I tossed the last paper to the side and focused on the other two, shaking my head at every unverified word. The utter laziness in the headlines was beginning to irk me to my core.

Reporters these days were willing to write anything to sell their papers, and they had yet to send me a check for all the copies I sold for them.

In the past, I was beyond ruthless—gutting hotels for the sake of making sure they never competed with my own and buying properties to make sure no one else would, but those days were long gone. Being at the top of my industry for over a decade meant I didn’t have to be as merciless, and it also meant I didn’t have much to celebrate.