What does Frank get out of the relationship? He looks like he should be buying cars for his favorite stripper, not... whatever this is.
Frank gets the quiet satisfaction of knowing that whatever Bri
says about him on the Twitter, it absolutely does not matter. What matters is the reality of the situation. And deep down, Bri knows it too. It's why she flails against him so loudly to show off to people. And Frank wears the indulgent smile of the big guy in cartoons, with his hand on the forehead of the smaller man swinging his shorter, ineffectual arms at him. Make no mistake, Frank is in on the joke more than anyone. "Go ahead, you can't
really hurt me." Jobs requiring a very specialized skillset are considerably more resistant to SJW-pestering than the usual ones Twitter mobs go after.
And the minute Frank decides to
not indulge her, Bri is finished. Completely and absolutely. She's estranged from her family, has no actual friends, no job skills, no education, no savings of her own, no revenue stream from past products, no patience or work ethic to hold a 'regular' menial job, she's not pretty enough to score another sugar daddy, and she has no business contacts that won't fall on her like a pack of wolves once she's in a weakened position.
If control of something really is just the prerogative to destroy it, then Frank Wu controls Brianna at the most basic level. Everything Brianna Wu is, sits in the palm of his hand. And that makes this tiny, goofy, mean-spirited man's dick
rock hard.
