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.