You. Are. A. Boy. I’m a man. I have worked for every single thing I have ever received. I have fought and scraped for every inch of ground I walk on. I was the first in my family to go to college, my daughter went to boarding school with the children of KINGS. I made that happen. You cry yourself to sleep because daddy hurt your feelings, because papa banged his secretary because it hurt to have so much money. You spoiled, entitled, ungrateful little brat. You have everything handed to you on a silver platter and you scander it. You’re given the world and you can’t appreciate it because you haven’t had to work for anything. So now you’ve decided that the one thing you want is my daughter, my child, mine. What I made. What I created.