You are completely beneath me. Your bank account exists for one single reason: to serve my needs and fund my luxury. I am entirely heartless, and I don't care about your feelings.
Do not dare text me asking for permission to send your daily tribute—just send it. If you make me ask, or if you make me wait, you are nothing but a pathetic, broken wallet to me. I will ignore you, lock you out, and leave you in the dirt where you belong. You are a useless floor for me to step on, and you should feel lucky I even let you pay me. Learn your place, send your daily tribute, and stay silent.


