It started as only a game. Me using you to get what I wanted: control over my father. I was tired of being Vince McMahon's son. His bitch. The one who he blamed when everything that could go wrong did. I thought I would be able to do that without becoming emotionally involved. God knows enough emotions had already been involved in this whole ordeal. Then slowly, I began to fall in love with you. Not only the magnificent body you had worked so hard on over the years, but your heart. The side only a few have gotten to see. I couldn't lie to you anymore. When I confessed to you my agenda, you said that you forgave me. You said that you would help me achieve my goals. You said you loved me too. The unforgettable nights we shared in each other's arms. As the day drew near when it would all fall apart, you were there right by my side. When my father emerged victorious once again from battle, arms raised high in the air, it was the final silent nail in the coffin that held my heart. Once you realized that I couldn't give you the fame and prestige you desired, you couldn't wait to leave me in the cold. Now as I watch you up to your old tricks with a new master, I only hope that my father can give you something that you couldn't get from me. You will finally obtain the fame and wealth you had dreamed about all of your life.  Maybe then, will you be able to justify all you've done to get to this point. Booker, just one word of advice to you. A forewarning per say. Who will replace you as dad's bitch when he tires of you?