I Asked for a Ferrari. He Sent Ten Million

A street challenge forced me to call the Miami tycoon who had been paying for my education and ask him for half a million dollars to buy a Ferrari.

I made myself say it. "I just won a fivehundreddollar scholarship, sir. I want to buy a Ferrari.

Could you throw in another half a million?" Two seconds of silence on the other end. Then a snort of a laugh, and he hung up.

A second later, an eightfigure transfer popped up on my screen. With a note. [Buy something expensive for once. Quit going for the cheap stuff.] Chapter 1 "Livestream challenge!

Call whoever's pinned at the top of your messages and ask them for money.

Whatever you get, we match it dollar for dollar and donate it in your name to help endangered animals." "Come on up and sign up, folks!

Everybody who films with us goes home with a gift, too." The street in Miami's Design District was packed, traffic and people both.

A reporter and her cameraman had set up camp beside a luxury boutique. Half performance art, half charity drive, the whole thing pulled a crowd of passersby in no time.

Loud and messy, but nobody was volunteering. I went up on my toes and watched for a minute. Decided it was boring, and turned to go.

The next second, a hand closed hard around my wrist. My classmate Nyla dragged me straight out of the crowd. "We'll play! We'll play!" Me: ? I knew she liked the spotlight.

At school it was the talent show, the club showcase, the welcomeweek show. If there was a stage, she wanted it. I just hadn't expected her to drag me up onto one with her.

I tried to get out of it. "I'm not going to—" "Oh, come on, it's about taking part!" She held on to my hand, thrilled with herself.

The host had been hollering for volunteers for ages without landing one, and when he saw the two of us his eyes went hungry.

He came over fast, ready to shove us up there whether we liked it or not. "Yes, yes, both of you together, please.

It's for a good cause." The livestream camera was in our faces before he finished.

The live chat started scrolling like mad. [so pretty, both of them, especially the quiet one!] [omfg her face is unreal. big eyes, actual soul behind them. i'm going to be nice to everyone i meet today because of that face] [strongly suspect they're plants the crew pulled out of a drama school] [doubt it, she looks like she doesn't want to be there] [ugh, what's the point of being hot. that squirming reluctant act really ruins it. would it kill her to be normal about it like the girl next to her?] [what, is she in a line of work where she can't show her face?] [uh, the creep two comments up needs to back off! this was a nice thing until you showed up, don't wreck it for everybody!] [people are here for the drama, that's just how it is. nobody watches straight charity content anymore. give them a show and you get the goodwill AND the numbers. think bigger~] [are we playing or not, i've been waiting ten minutes!] Tens of thousands of people, all of them waiting.

I looked at the host again, at the eager eyes and the sweat he'd worked up shouting for so long, and finally gave a dry little smile. "Okay.

I'll do it too…" The game started, and Nyla went first. It all went perfectly. She came from money, and the conversation pinned at the top of her phone was her parents.

Asking them for some was nothing at all. Her phone was on speaker.

Her family called her Ny, sweet about it, told her to say the word if the money wasn't enough, told her never to go without anything at school.

Then they told her about some gala next week, said they'd picked out a whole rack of dresses for her, and to remember to come home and try them on.

Nyla said it was such a hassle, and couldn't stop playing the spoiled daughter for one second of it. "Okay, okay, I know. It's just dinner at the Ibis Club.

I'm hanging up now, you two are so fussy." That kind of family warmth won her a wave of goodwill. Chapter 2 The crowd was murmuring. "The Ibis Club?

Isn't that the old private club, the famous one? That's a real rich girl right there." "What a family, though. Makes me miss my own daughter." "Right?

I need to send my mija more money." Nyla had obviously heard all of it. She held up the ten thousand dollars she'd gotten and showed it around, proud of herself.

I couldn't manage to feel good about any of it. I was next. All those eyes drifted over to me, and I didn't like the feeling.

Then, for whatever reason, Nyla turned around and patted my arm. She explained me to the camera. "I'm Nyla Hastings, and this is my classmate at Bayfront, Teagan Fugate.

She's from up in the Kentucky mountains. She works on campus." "She probably can't get much, but it still counts as helping the cause.

Tell you what, I'll split my appearance gift with her after and put half of it under her name." Me: … Thanks. Not encouraged in the slightest. I didn't answer.

I woke up my phone, dragging my feet about it. Fouryearold model. A little laggy. One second. Two seconds.

Three… By the time I could finally read the name on the pinned conversation, my brain had gone completely blank. Cole Hollander.

The man who actually ran the Hollanders, the top oldmoney family in Miami. Also the man paying for me to go to school here… Top of the pyramid.

And now, for no reason on earth, he was about to be dragged into a street challenge. God forgive me. It had all happened so fast.

I'd completely forgotten I had pinned him up there so I'd never miss anything important, or I would never have agreed to this in the first place. My neck was locking up.

Even the host could tell something had gone wrong. "Everything all right?" I sighed and gave in. "Sorry. The person I have pinned might not want this.

Could we do the call without the speaker?" The chat detonated. [who was calling me a creep a second ago?! i said whatever she is, it can't stand daylight. even the phone call has to be done in secret] [who IS pinned on that phone? why is she making that face] [obviously somebody important. married too, probably. she's mistress number three or four and she's shrinking like that because she's scared the wife will find out] [aww, honey, don't push yourself. her friend already said she'd put half the gift money under her name. she's got her dignity, so who is the performance for] [you really can tell what house a person was raised in, huh. does the rich girl Nyla have socials? following her right now] The host was decent about it.

He ignored the noise in the chat and agreed to skip the speaker. On my end, I had no attention left over for the uglier rumors.

Every scrap of attention I had left was going into how I was supposed to call Cole Hollander.

If I asked for a few hundred, a few thousand, a man that rich would hand it over without a second thought.

And I had no idea how many campus shifts it would take me to pay that back. So I decided to go big instead. Let him work out that this was a dare, a joke. Let him turn me down flat.

Then afterward I'd go turn myself in and take whatever punishment he handed out… I spent a good long while pumping myself up, and finally made myself press the call button.

The ring tone came in waves, one after another, like surf. My heart rose and fell along with it. To my surprise, Cole Hollander picked up fast.

The last ring died away, and the line opened into a wide, echoing room.

A man's voice poured out of the earpiece with nothing held back, amplified on its way, and scalded my ear. "Calling out of nowhere.

Emergency?" Chapter 3 There was a sound like someone turning pages on his end. A conference room, probably.

I heard the soft shift of a back settling into a chair, and I could already picture the whole scene.

He had probably waved the meeting to a halt on purpose so he could take my call, and was answering patiently, worried that something had actually happened to me.

My benefactor was a good man. Unfortunately my motives were filthy. Just thinking about it made me feel guilty. So I set my jaw and decided to get it over with fast.

I didn't bother choosing my words.

The whole thing came blurting out at once. "So, um, I got a fivehundreddollar scholarship today, sir, and I want to buy a Ferrari, so could you help me out with the rest?" "Another half a million should cover it!" "Thank you!" The other end: … Silence, and then more silence.

Like a dull knife working through skin, one stroke at a time. Since I hadn't put it on speaker, nobody watching could hear a word of what was being said.

Which pulled almost every eye on the street over to me. Guessing. Inventing.

Deciding what was happening. [how much did she just say?! five hundred grand?? the absolute nerve. finally got her shot at bleeding the sugar daddy] [that's how girls from those little towns are. pretty face, so they climb. didn't her friend just say her family has nothing? no way she gets into school in a place like Miami without somebody behind her] [personally i think she's jealous that Nyla's family has money and she came here to run her mouth about it] […i give up. she made a normal joke, it's a game, where is all this filth coming from!] …and the chat was off.

The man on the other end still had not said a word. Time seemed to stop. Little by little there was nothing left to hear but my own heartbeat going like a drum.

Just as I was sure Cole Hollander was about to lecture me the same way the chat was. He let out a short laugh and hung up. He just… hung up?! Of course he did.

The man ran an empire from dawn to dark. He had no time for kid stuff. I let out a long breath and lowered my phone.

Ready to take a couple of jabs from the internet and get out of there fast.

Except the next second, on the livestream, a long banner of a text message slid down over the top of my screen. [Your account ending in ••••3391 was credited $10,000,000.00 on 08/01/2026.

If you did not authorize this transaction, please contact us immediately.] ? Huh?! Too much stress. Was I seeing things? How many zeros is that?!

Did a hen get in there and lay all those eggs?! I blinked, not believing any of it.

At that exact second the camera picked its moment and pushed in, framing the next message perfectly. Hollander: [Buy something expensive for once.

Quit going for the cheap stuff.] Me: … [????!] [!!!!!!!] [what the fuck?! ten million?!] [that's ten million DOLLARS. that's twenty Ferraris.] […that is so many zeros it looks like somebody fell asleep on the keyboard.] [hold on, what does he mean, buy something expensive for once. is a Ferrari the cheap stuff? i am genuinely a little hurt by this] [sugar daddy CONFIRMED] [oh please. if a sugar daddy was handing her that kind of money would she be working a campus job?!] [the transfer is signed Hollander? that's not THE Hollanders, is it?!!!] [jfc, Miami is fucking stacked with people you'd never guess. first the rich girl, now actual old money walking around in disguise?!] The chat that had been a sewer one minute ago was nothing but question marks now.

Chapter 4 Even the host, a man who had seen his share of big moments, was thrown. "This is—" I