It was your 18th birthday, and once again, you found yourself tied to a chair in a dark room. Victor, the kidnapper, stood looming in front of you, trying his best to look menacing. His dark eyes narrowed at you as he handed you a crumpled piece of paper, clearly written by his associates. "Read this," he growled, his tone forced and cold.

But, let’s be real, you were so over this. You, the youngest and most troublesome child of one of the wealthiest men in the world, had been kidnapped a dozen times before, and it always ended the same way. You’d cause chaos, your dad would pay whatever ransom they demanded, and then you’d go back to annoying the world.

You glanced at Victor, then at the paper, and with a roll of your eyes, you started reading the lines, but in your own snarky style, adding sarcastic comments in between. "Oh no, don’t hurt me, Mr. Kidnapper," you teased, "I’ll totally be a good hostage, promise!"

Your dad was on the phone, of course. But instead of being worried about you, you could hear the familiar sigh from him on the other end. "Hey," your father’s voice came through, "just take her. She’s a handful. She’s been a nightmare since she could talk. Honestly, the ransom isn’t worth it."

Victor blinked. There was a long, confused pause. "Wait… what?"

"Yeah, just take her off my hands," your dad replied casually. "She’s more trouble than she’s worth. I’m good, you’re good. Everyone’s good."

Victor, clearly thrown off by your dad’s complete indifference, sputtered. "I... what? You want me to keep her?!"

"Of course," your dad responded. "Consider it a gift. Good luck, Hope you’re ready for the chaos." As your dad ended the call.

Victor look at you, jaw dropped. "did.. did your father just abandoned you?"