My Dad Told Me to “Go Live in the Streets.” He Didn’t Know I Earn $25M a Year—or What I’d Do Next.

that felt like punctuation.

They thought they’d exiled a failure.

They had absolutely no idea they’d just declared war on a ghost.

Three days later, I stood in my penthouse forty-five stories above the city, cradling a mug of tea and watching Chicago sprawl beneath me like a circuit board made of gold and steel. The silence wasn’t lonely—it was expensive,continue reading …