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Ollie vB:
It’s not hookups asking for pictures. Just randos on the street.
Ollie vB:
And apparently, graciously obliging them is considered ‘indecent exposure.’
Zach Sun:
That explains it.
Ollie vB:
Explains what?
Zach Sun:
“No one gives a hummer like a gummer.”
Ollie vB:
Ah. Boomers. The last great generation. Horny, experienced, and incapable of working an iPhone camera.
Ollie vB:
Anyway, back to Zach’s misery.
Ollie vB:
Feel that fur-lined collar tightening around your neck, sonny boy?
Romeo Costa:
Marriage is not a punishment.
Ollie vB:
I’d literally pick the electric chair.
Romeo Costa:
[Eye roll Emoji]
Ollie vB:
Every. Single. Time.
Imade it a point not to leave my office the first day of Farrow’s employment.
Firstly, and most importantly, I had work to do.
Work provided comfort and joy. Trading stocks. Taking companies by force. Digesting them into my own.
All those traits that made me unapproachable and odd as a human—my lack of consideration, desire, and empathy—were pros in the business world.
It didn’t matter that I’d already amassed an offensive fortune. Making money was my blood sport of choice. The stock exchanges—my arena. And every being with a pulse—my opponent.
I sat on my gilded throne on Dark Prince Road.
