You think you know me.
That’s the way I want it.
Making you feel like we know each other–like we could go grab a beer sometime–is part of my job. Maybe the most vital part. It doesn’t hurt that I’m easy on the eyes, single at 35, and born richer than sin. My aesthetic matters much more than it should, but all the better for my worthy cause.
And it’s a worthy cause.
I’ve made an art out of making you feel good, and my influence makes you want to be good. Good like me. You think you know me, but you don’t.
Everyone has secrets. Mine could cost me everything.
So I’m a fortress. No one’s ever even gotten close.
See that man, the tall guy dripping on the bow of my yacht? The one I just pulled from the ocean?
He’s the one who’s going to cost me everything.