ALEX’s POV

Everything appeared to be swirling. I dropped the food on the table and grabbed a glass of water, drinking it all in one go. When I still wasn’t satisfied, I asked the lady handing them out for more. She gave me another.

It was useless. Everything just seemed to get caught in my throat.

“Can we get on, now?” Percy said impatiently when even after a full beat has passed and the attorney still hasn’t said anything, he was just staring at me choking.

When my lightheadedness finally left, I looked around at the table. No one, not even the old man who had taken me here appeared to be shocked by the words. They all knew… I think. And they… just don’t care?

The old man offered me a handkerchief and I took it, wiping my mouth. I don’t know what to think of this. I just sat there for the next five minutes staring down at the oak table. I didn’t even listen to the rest of the will, apart maybe from all the sharp objections once the part about the charities were read.

“…Children’s Hospital, and the Harrington Foundation for the Arts, I leave endowments totaling twenty-five billion dollars—” A chorus of outraged objections sounded throughout the entire room. “—to be divided among them as specified in the attached documents. It is my wish that these institutions continue to thrive long after I am gone.”

“We get a measly five million while some lousy charity gets billions?!” Claudine’s outburst rang through the room and she stood up, her chair clattering on the floor behind her.

Cassiopeia was the next to react. “Well, at least you get five! I only have three!”

“Goddamn that old man.” Hugh gritted his teeth, putting out the cigar he’d been holding on the wooden table. “I knew he’s going to fucking screw us up. He’s crazy, that’s what he is!”

“Are you sure, attorney, that this is final? I’m sure he has an old draft somewhere with even better conditions.”

The lawyer looked up at Claudine, a polite smile on his face. “I’m not done yet. There are still a few lines I have yet to finish reading.”

“Well, then, get on with it!” Percival yelled, slamming his fist into the table.

The lawyer looked startled. He scrambled for the paper and fixed his glasses, clearing his throat for the nth time. “Where was I… uh, right.” He straightened. “To Mr. Henry Caldwell, my trusted advisor and the newly appointed Chairman of the Board of Harrington Group, I leave a personal trust of five million dollars annually, as well as the legal guardianship of my grandchild, Ivy Alexandria, until such a time as she reaches the age of twenty-one and is deemed capable of managing her inheritance.”

There goes my name again. And there goes all of their heads and piercing looks. Among everyone in the table, only four of them didn’t give me any dirty looks.

Claudine stood up again, interrupting the attorney. “You mentioned that…” She turned to me, “…the girl gets an inheritance?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

Everyone seemed to lean in apart from Henry. Even I was curious. I mean, I ain’t expecting much anyway—if I was even expecting something. Maybe a couple grand and I would happily go back to Chicago. I wouldn’t be rich but hell, I’d survive.

The attorney flipped to the next page. He gulped. ““And now, we have come to the final provision of this will — the matter of my granddaughter, Ivy Alexandria Carter. Although you have not spent much time with this family, Ivy, know that I have always intended you to inherit more than a name.”

I looked away. Everyone in here seemed to be anxious about something. They all looked like they could bounce off the walls at any minute. Even Cassiopeia who didn’t seem like a nail-biter to me was near to cutting off half her nails with all the nervous biting.

“Accordingly, after the allocations already specified in my previous statements, the residue and remainder of my estate, which is calculated at approximately four hundred seventy-two billion dollars, shall vest solely in you. This inheritance includes all remaining assets: liquid and illiquid, controlling interests, accounts, and properties not otherwise specified.

By this provision, you inherit the greater part of my estate, along with the privileges and responsibilities it carries. And to the family gathered here, know that while the distributions differ, my intent has always been the same — that each of you find purpose beyond what wealth alone can provide.”

The attorney finished reading and closed the folder with Reginald Harrington’s will and testament in it. Everyone was silent. No one even dared move.

If earlier, there were loud objections from the family, now there was only silence. And it wasn’t even a good kind of silence. It was heavy, almost charged.

“You mean…” It was Henrietta who broke the silence. “…this girl, whoever she is… she’s getting it all?”

The attorney nodded. “Yes. And this is supposed to be effective immediately.”

More silence followed. The vein on Hugh’s neck looked like it was about to explode. Cassiopeia was just staring blankly at the table. Claudine snatched the paper from the attorney and started reading feverishly across pages.

When I looked directly in front, Blaire was already staring at me.

“Did you do this?” she asked.

My eyebrows immediately creased. “What?”

“The will. Admit it,” She stood up and circled the table, “when my grandfather was on his deathbed, you conned your way into his will.”

“What are you talking about?”

Henrietta’s head shot up. “Yes! Blaire could be right. I mean, we’ve never even met this girl. What if she’s a con artist? Is Ivy Alexandria even her real name?”

“Now, now!” The attorney tried breaking it up. “We have documents that prove her identity. She couldn’t have been a con artist—”

“But wasn’t she just arrested?” It was Percival who said that. “How are you all so sure she wasn’t conning you?!”

I stood up, pulling away from Blaire who looked ready to pounce. “Listen, alright?! I didn’t even want to be here. You were the ones who dragged me into this mess.”

Claudine stood up, too, and was about to come near me but one of the guards barred her.

“What are you doing?” she asked the men. “Get out of my way!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. But we’re here to protect the heir.”

“The heir?! HA!” Percival burst out of his chair, too, his finger pointed at me. “You’re calling this girl an heir?! She’s from an orphanage for fuck’s sake! I’m sure one of you messed up big time and switched the documents or something.”

Hugh shook his head at this, running his hands through his hair multiple times. “That’s it. I’m calling my attorney. I’m sure there’s some way we can change this.”

“There isn’t,” Henry said.

The room went silent again.

“What do you mean there isn’t?”

The attorney stood up. “Mr. Caldwell is correct. The firm was directed to run a thorough review of the will and it doesn’t have any loopholes.”

“But my poor father could be sick when he wrote this!”

“Or he could have been blackmailed.”

The attorney smiled at both Claudine and Cassiopeia’s attempts. “He made this himself a year ago in the entire firm’s presence. Before doing so, he was subjected to a full psychiatric and medical evaluation. I assure you, he did not have any sickness when he wrote this.”

“But—”

“If you have any objections to the document, feel free to contact your attorneys. I, myself, will assist them willingly if they do turn up at the firm.” And with that, he closed his briefcase and left.

I was ushered by the head of security, Thomas Hale, out of the room where his men still struggled to keep the rest of the family away from me. Blaire almost got ahold of my arm but Peter, her father, managed to drag her away.

We went through the same hallway again. I glanced at the portraits. My supposed ancestors stared back.

“Let’s go,” Henry said when he noticed that I was slowing down, staring at the last portrait.

I turned to him. “Where are we going now?”

“To your estate.”

The moment we walked out of the building, a crowd of reporters with their microphones and cameras boxed us in. There was so much flashing lights that I’m pretty sure my eyes were closed in every single one of their photos.

“Miss Carter! Miss Carter! Here! Look here!”

“Is it true that you’re Reginald Harrington’s grandchild?”

“The reading of the last will was today. What can you say about it, Miss Carter?”

“Miss Carter! Is it true that you got arrested?”

Hale immediately blocked the cameras facing toward me, his men pushing the paparazzi to the side, making way for us. Once we descended the stairs leading to the sidewalk below, I was steered into a black SUV. Henry sat beside me and ordered for the driver to drive away.

I was still in shock.

“Good,” Henry said and I turned to him.

“What was?”

“Your response to the media.”

I blinked, my lips pulling into a slight frown. “But I didn’t respond.”

“Exactly. That’s what you need to do when facing these people. Do not speak unless absolutely necessary.”

Now, my attention was pulled into what just happened. “How did they find out that fast?”

“About your arrest or about the will?”

“Both.”

“They’re the paparazzi, dear. They’ll slither their way into the tiniest crevices if it means they’ll get the story out first. Nothing ever truly stays a secret around here.”

I just nodded at Henry’s explanation, my eyes wandering down the street. I’ve had a lot of questions about why I was dragged here in the first place but now that I’ve got my answers, it feels like I’m forming a million more.

Who exactly was Reginald Harrington and why did he leave me everything he owned? He couldn’t even do that for his own family whom he’s known for years. And if he knew that he had a granddaughter out there that’s an orphan, why didn’t he come sooner? Was I that hard to find? It’s not like I changed my name or anything. Or was I just irrelevant? Some pawn he’s using to get back at his family that he probably hates?

My head was pounding with questions. I pressed a hand on my temple and Henry turned to me.

“I understand you have a lot of questions.”

I sighed, forcing my eyes shut. “I don’t even know where to start.”

ALEX’s POV

The drive to Manhattan felt quicker when you have a million questions running around inside your head. The car drove past a suburb and then headed straight for the hills. I frowned.

“The Harrington Estate is on a mountain?”

Henry turned to me. “A hill. But yes.”

“Why didn’t Reginald Harrington build one at the suburb. There are lots of space there.”

Henry just smiled, his eyes trailed on the wrought-iron gates that were approaching. “This house was built long before any of the other houses in Manhattan existed. If you’re going to ask a question, it should be ‘why they didn’t build one near the estate’?”

“So, why didn’t they build—”

“Because all of this is private property.”

“The hill?”

“Yes. The hill.”

I looked out the window. It shouldn’t even be called a hill. It’s massive. Though it wasn’t much of a slope, it totally towers over the suburb.

“Where does the private property start?” I tried to press my face against the glass to get a better look.

“Five minutes ago,” came Henry’s reply.

My eyes widened. Five minutes ago we were still at the bottom of the hill. “You mean Reginald Harrington owns an entire mountain?”

“Yes. And now, it’s yours.”

I felt bitter. I should be happy because now I’m filthy rich but… for some reason, I felt bitter. It’s like something is stuck in my throat, some thought is just beyond reach. It was unpleasant. I feel like vomiting.

The car entered the automated gates and we drove off through a forest lined with pine trees. This would’ve been marvelous any other day if it weren’t just for the fact that I’m way too distracted to take it all in.

After a few short moments, the long winding road finally gave us a glimpse of the house. If you can even call it a house.

The Harrington Mansion loomed ahead like something torn from a storybook, its pale stone walls lined with tall windows and elaborate carvings, its roof bristling with chimneys and turrets.

A wide drive curved into a roundabout at the front of the mansion, its center marked by a stone fountain crowned with a marble statue. It was the Archangel Michael, his wings spread wide, sword lifted toward the sky. Beyond it, broad stone steps led to double doors, the kind that seemed built to make visitors feel small.

We pulled up at the roundabout and I got out of the car. Looking up at how massive it was, if I hadn’t known any better, I’d think a European royalty lived here.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Henry said as he stood beside me at the foot of the stairs.

I looked around, taking in the vast grounds, the garden maze, and all the trees that lined the property neatly. “I think impressive is an understatement.”

He smiled. “Come. I’ll show you to your room.”

If the outside of the mansion was already intimidatingly beautiful, the inside was even more spectacular.

The doors opened into a vast marble foyer. A sweeping grand staircase curved upward on either side, leading to a mezzanine that overlooked the hall. The chandeliers of cut crystal hung overhead, scattering light across the walls paneled in pale cream and gilded gold.

Paintings of stern-faced Harrington ancestors also lined the gallery above. As we passed them, I couldn’t help but think that maybe Claudine and her sister was right. The dead billionaire might’ve really gone crazy.

Imagine leaving all of your fortune and legacy to some orphan. If what Henry said was right and this house was already here long before any of the other houses were, then their legacy must’ve spanned a few centuries. Hell, maybe even more.

So, why leave it to someone like me? Because I’m a long lost granddaughter? He can’t even be bothered to go to Chicago and pick me up. With his money and resources, if he did a quick google search, he will probably find me in the website of the orphanage.

So, why now? Was this just his way of cleaning out his conscience before he leaves the world forever? Because if it is, it’s fucked up.

“We’re here.” Henry’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I looked up. We were standing in front of the room at the farthest end of the hallway. It was a double door with gold trimmings and had the initial H in the middle. He opened it and the room inside looked like it belonged to a French chateau.

I walked in, my hair getting caught in the breeze from the opened balcony doors. “This is my room?” I asked.

Henry nodded. “But there are other rooms, of course. If you want the master’s bedroom, you can have it.”

“Reginald Harrington’s bedroom?”

“Your grandfather’s bedroom, yes.”

My jaw tightened for a bit at the mention of the word ‘grandfather’. Seems really foreign to me. I’ve never even known I had one. And then now, all of a sudden, I have it all.

“Do you want to settle in first? Or should I have the chef start serving dinner?”

I scoffed. “Of course there’s a chef.”

“Yes. He’s been instructed to cook every meal you desire to eat.”

I rolled my eyes and sat down on the bed. It was soft. Too soft in fact that I’m scared if I lie down long enough it might consume me. “So, what now?” I turned to him.

He raised both eyebrows. “I’m sorry, come again?”

“I said, what now? What do I do now?”

Henry smiled at this. “You can do whatever your heart desires, Young Lady. Everything is at your disposal.”

“Even you?”

That question seemed to catch him off guard. “Er, not exactly. But I am here to serve you. I will be the chairman of the board until you are ready to assume the role. I will also be your guardian until you are of age. So, for now, you will need me.”

I stared at him for longer, my eyes not even focused on him. I was just thinking about what he said. “You mean, he’s dumping all of his responsibilities on me?”

He blinked, his smile wavering. “Unfortunately—”

“Did any of you even think that maybe I just want to live in a way that I wouldn’t have to think about starving the next day?”

“Well—”

“Look, I’m like any other starving orphan, alright? I’m just happy to get money, or even eat something delicious. I don’t wish to become the chairman of some company or become a slave to someone else.”

“You’re not a slave. You’re going to be the boss.”

“Really?” I stood up, facing him. “You really think that? A poor orphan with little to no education would be a boss? My chances here are slim, Henry. At best, I’d be a puppet to those rich bastards running the company.”

Henry sighed, his eyes trailing elsewhere. “You may be right. But I assure you, that will never happen.”

“Yeah, right. Every single one of his family hates me—”

“Your family.”

“—and even though I hate them back, it still stings.” I gritted my teeth. “All my life, I thought I had no one. And now that I do know that I actually had family elsewhere, somehow, it hurts even more. It would’ve been better if they were dirt poor and didn’t have any means of looking for the four year old kid that was orphaned when her mother shot herself dead.”

Henry didn’t look at me. He swallowed, his eyes distant.

I sat back on the bed, the corner of my eyes stinging. “I am not a chess piece, alright? If the dead bastard wanted me here to teach his ungrateful family a lesson, sorry, but I don’t want to be a part of it.”

“You can have everything you want.”

“Well, this isn’t what I want.”

Henry finally met my gaze. I sniffled, trying to blink away the tears that were forming.

He gave me a sad smile. “I promise you, from now on, no one will look down on you ever again. You will receive my assistance in every step. We will start with giving you the best education there is.”

I rolled my eyes again. “Let me guess, you’re throwing me away into a boarding school full of rich snobs?”

“Exactly.”

A laugh escaped me. Henry chuckled, too.

“Don’t worry, Young Lady. Before I became an attorney and financial advisor to the late Mr. Reginald Harrington, I was just like you.”

“Orphaned?”

“No, not exactly. I had family but let’s just say they were incapable of giving me a decent life.”

“At least you had one.”

“Having one isn’t always the best.” He looked out at the balcony again, his eyes wandering like he’s remembering bad times. “And I think you got lucky, too, Miss Carter.”

I scoffed, kicking my shoes off so I could lay on the bed. “Lucky isn’t a word that anyone could use to describe what I’ve been through.”

“Maybe. But I think you’re lucky you didn’t grow up with this family.”

“Were they that f*cked up?”

Henry looked around, making sure no one else was with us to hear him say, “They are.”

My head perked up. “Yeah? How f*cked up?”

Henry gave me another one of his knowing smiles. “You’ll find out soon enough. At least now, though, you’ll have a fighting chance.”

My eyebrows knitted together at what he said. I mean, from what I saw earlier at the office, with the way they reacted and all that, I know they were f*cked up. But how f*cked up exactly are we talking about?

Henry straightened from where he was standing and put on a professional expression. “I’ll leave you alone now to gather your thoughts. Oh, and by the way, next week you will be leaving for the school.”

“What school?”

“Montfort Academy for the Elites. Don’t worry though, I will make sure you are well taken care off while in there. Also, you will have a chance every once a month to come home. I will be there personally to see you off.”

My face soured and I pushed myself up. “You’re seriously chucking me into a boarding school with snobs?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t I like… just go to a normal school?”

“A normal school will not suit you, dear. Besides, if you are anything at all like your mother, you will be brilliant. Nothing to worry about in terms of academics.”

“Academics maybe but—”

“No buts. I will be heading off now. I still have a lot left to arrange for you.”

ALEX’s POV

I squinted at the sudden burst of sunlight in my room. As I tried to pry my eyes open, I saw that Henry was already standing there, waiting for me.

“Good morning,” came his annoying voice.

I groaned and flipped to my side, turning away from him.

I’ve never slept in a room this big and a bed this comfy so naturally, the moment I was done with dinner and was already bathed, I slept in an instant. It was one of the most peaceful sleeps I had and I don’t intend to part with it.

“You need to wake up. I’m introducing you to a lot some people today.”

I felt a tug and then in an instant, the thick comforter I had wrapped myself into vanished. I groaned again, my voice hoarse.

“Wake up, Young Lady.” Henry circled the bed and shook me awake.

I didn’t budge.

“I need to introduce you to your new bodyguard.”

I pried one eye open. “What’s wrong with Hale?”

“Nothing is wrong with me,” it was Thomas Hale who answered this time. He entered the room, a young man following closely behind him.

I sat up, aware that my hair was still a tangled mess, but didn’t bother with it.

“This is Dimitri Dulatov. He is your new bodyguard.”

I eyed Dimitri, my eyes still rather blurry from the twelve hour long sleep. I don’t know if it’s just me but he doesn’t look like a bodyguard. If anything, he looked like he’s still in high school. College, at best.

“Are you sure he’s a bodyguard?”

Hale gave me a stern look. “Not all bodyguards look like me, Miss Carter.”

I looked at him. He’s right. Thomas Hale was built like he could take on ten men with just a few moves. Dimitri on the other hand looked like he would snap in two if you just looked at him wrong. Sure, he’s good-looking. But that’s not going to help my case if ever the Harrington family gets their hands on me.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Dimitri said and I snapped out of my thoughts.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like I’m your weakest option.”

“Are you not?”

Thomas Hale took a step forward, his face calm but with an air of confidence. “I assure you, Miss Carter, Dimitri here will be able to protect you. He’s the best of his class and he’s skilled in both combat and weapons training.”

“He looks like he’s still in high school.”

“We made sure to choose a candidate that would fit that description.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And why?”

“Because he will be accompanying you within the walls of Montfort Academy.”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

We’ve circled fifth avenue more than five hours already. If my toes could speak, they’d be screaming because for some odd reason, Henry made me tag along to buy stuff for school. Which was weird because normally, people this rich don’t even bother showing up in stores. The store shows up to them.

I plopped down on one of the heavily upholstered chairs in Bottega Veneta. Henry, along with his army of fashion consultants and stylists, were busy working their way into building me a closet.

“Remind me, why am I here again?” I asked him once he came close enough to me.

Henry places a sweater on me, squinted and then turned to the consultants behind him. “I think it will do nicely with the black coat.”

All of them nodded, muttering praises at Henry’s good taste.

“Why am I even here?” I asked again, my limbs hanging lifelessly beside me.

He glanced at me. “Because we need to actually see you to be able to dress you. We don’t know your style yet.”

“That’s because you never asked me what it is.”

He smiled at me, the kind of smile that makes you think that the reason he never asked you what your style was is because your style is sh*t.

Well, I say, you can’t really blame me. If you grew up with only the donation bins at your local mall as your solitary source of clothes, you’d have a mismatched style, too.

“Here.” Dimitri handed me a glass bottle. At first glance, I thought it was wine. But it was clear enough that you’d think it was water.

I took it and looked at the label. Svalbarði. I scoffed out loud. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s water.”

“It looks like wine.”

Dimitri tried his best not to raise an eyebrow at me. “It’s water. Read it. It says there Polar Iceberg Water.”

My eyes narrowed at the label. “What? Normal water is too cheap for you, now?”

He sighed and snatched the bottle from me. I snatched it back.

“I didn’t say I’m not going to drink it,” I hissed at him. He grabbed the bottle again, opening it, and then handed it back to me with a straw. I rolled my eyes but still drank it anyway.

He kept staring. I kept drinking.

I don’t want to give out any sign in my expression that says I actually enjoyed the water. Who knew water could taste this good? It feels like eating snow or cotton candy just maybe minus the aftertaste.

After I finished the entire bottle, I handed it back to him.

He accepted it with a slight head tilt. “What do you think of it?”

“Meh.”

I caught a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips and I looked away. I guess my delight was way too easy to read on my face.

After buying clothes, we finally got back into the car. But just when I thought that it was over, we stopped in front of yet another store. This time, it was Kinokuniya.

My face crumpled into a frown. “We aren’t done?”

Henry escorted me out of the car. “We’re still going to pick up some of your school supplies. Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”

“You said that, too, about the clothes shopping.”

“And I was truthful, wasn’t I?”

I shot him a glare but he had already left me at the foyer. He was too busy talking with other sales associates that I couldn’t even get a single word out to him. When Dimitri noticed this, he grabbed a small basket for me.

“You can pick out some things you want in the store. No one will be mad at you.”

I looked up at him. “Henry will be. I tried getting a shirt and he threw it away.”

“To be fair, that shirt was ugly.”

I snatched the basket from him in a huff and circled the store on my own, rolling my eyes. I got books, stationery, and anything cute that I could find and dumped it into the basket. By the time I filled up two, Henry was already waiting by the counter.

“I see you’ve enjoyed yourself,” he said as he watched Dimitri place the baskets on the counter.

I smiled. “I think I did. Can we make a stop at Barnes & Noble? I want to pick out some more books.”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Monday was already fast approaching and I still had a dozen questions left to ask Henry. He’s quite elusive, you see. By the time I’m awake, he’s already left. And by the time I’m asleep, that’s when he decides to come home.

For the last three days, there’s only been me and Dimitri. And whatever questions I have, he doesn’t have the right answer to them anyway.

I shoved a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, sighing. “Are you sure you have no idea who he was?”

Dimitri looked up at me, closing the book he’s buried his face into for the last few hours. “I’ve already told you all I know about your grandfather. He’s a rich billionaire, he’s a no-nonsense businessman, and he’s a genius.”

“But I already know that!” I placed the tub of ice cream back on the table and scanned the bookshelves again. I don’t know what exactly it was that I’m looking for, but I need some answers. “You really have no idea who your employer was?”

“Listen, just like you, I came here after the billionaire was dead. I’ve never even met him. So, technically, you’re my employer.”

I grabbed a book. It was another one of the Harringtons’ autobiographies. “So, what do we know, then?”

“That your grandfather came from a long line of bankers. By the third generation, they’ve expanded to oil, built an entire town somewhere up north and started mining, and then… that’s it. That’s where the billions came from.”

“What about my mother?”

“I only know what you know. That she’s a genius herself. Your grandfather was fond of her. She was just like him.”

At this point, I don’t know if the reason why my fingers were shaking uncontrollably was because I ate too much ice cream or because I’m about to cry.

I flipped through the old, yellowed pages of the book and clenched my teeth so hard I thought it was going to crack. “If that was true, he wouldn’t have let her die alone in a trailer park.”

“But she wasn’t alone.”

“Yeah. Like that’s any better. Shooting yourself in front of a four year old kid.” I shoved the book back on the shelf and turned to him. “She was staring blankly at me when she pulled the trigger, you know?”

Dimitri straightened up from his seat. He looked mildly uncomfortable but he still gave me a small smile. “If it’ll help you feel any better, my brother went crazy and tried to kill me when I was eight. I visited him just a year ago. He doesn’t even recognize me with the amount of pills they’ve put him in.”

I blinked. He did, too.

“Wow,” was all I could manage to say. “We’re both f*cked up, then?”

He chuckled, turning back to his book. “I guess that’s it. That’s why they put us together.”

I stared at him for a minute before I turned my attention on the painting hanging on the wall, just a little above the Harrington crest. It was Reginald Harrington, his face pulled into a serious expression, looking down on us.

Sometimes, I can’t tell if he was being genuine about all this. If he really wanted to help me, make up for all those years that I had no one by my side. Or if I was just a part of his one big power move. A last ‘f*ck you’ to the world.

Well, guess what. F*ck you, too.