
Millions have been taken from me. If you are not on top of it
Millions have been taken from me. If you are not on top of it and you make a lot of money, and you trust business managers, then, yes, money will be taken from you.






In the candid words of Stephanie Mills, “Millions have been taken from me. If you are not on top of it and you make a lot of money, and you trust business managers, then, yes, money will be taken from you.” These words echo like a warning across the ages, for they speak not only of money lost, but of vigilance neglected. Mills confesses an experience that many artists, athletes, and leaders have endured: the bitter realization that trust, when given without oversight, can become the gateway to betrayal.
At its heart, the quote speaks of the dangers of misplaced reliance. Wealth, though abundant, is fragile when left unguarded. Business managers, accountants, advisers—all may wear the mask of loyalty, but beneath that mask lies the temptation of greed. Mills’ lament is a reminder that abundance requires not less discipline, but more. For when gold fills the coffers, thieves are never far away, and negligence is as dangerous as dishonesty.
History offers us many examples of this truth. Consider the story of Mike Tyson, who earned hundreds of millions as the heavyweight champion of the world. Surrounded by managers and advisors, he trusted that his fortune was secure. Yet through mismanagement and betrayal, his wealth vanished, leaving him bankrupt. His fists could defeat men in the ring, but without vigilance, he was undone outside it. Stephanie Mills’ warning lives in his story: without oversight, the mighty can be brought low.
The ancients, too, knew this lesson. Kings of old entrusted treasuries to ministers, only to discover them emptied by corruption. The wise king Solomon, though rich beyond measure, wrote in Proverbs that “the prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it.” Wealth, power, or talent—none are safe without watchfulness. To trust blindly is to build your house upon sand, where winds of betrayal can sweep it away.
Yet there is more here than fear. Mills’ words also carry a call to responsibility. She does not say that all managers are thieves, but that we must remain “on top of it.” In other words, success cannot free us from the burden of stewardship. We must know where our resources flow, question those who hold them, and keep our hands upon the wheel of our own destiny. Trust may be given, but never without accountability.
The lesson is clear: whether you hold millions or little, be vigilant with what is yours. Guard your resources—your money, your time, your talents—with care. Do not give them over entirely into the hands of others, no matter how trustworthy they seem. Let trust be accompanied by watchfulness, and let generosity be tempered by wisdom. In this way, what you have built will endure, rather than being stolen in silence.
Practically, this means keeping records, asking questions, learning about the very systems that govern your livelihood. If you are an artist, know your contracts. If you are a worker, know your wages. If you are a leader, know your accounts. For as Stephanie Mills teaches, neglect opens the door to loss, but diligence shuts it fast.
Thus, her lament becomes for us a timeless teaching: fortune without vigilance invites ruin. Place no blind trust in managers of wealth, but be the steward of your own labor. Watch, learn, question, and guard what is yours. For if faith can be joined with wisdom, then what you build will not be stolen, but will remain as a blessing for generations.
AAdministratorAdministrator
Welcome, honored guests. Please leave a comment, we will respond soon