I Bought Him a Porsche He Humiliated Me Online

On our fifth anniversary, I gifted my boyfriend of five years a brand-new Porsche 91

I thought my generosity would buy his loyalty. Instead, the very next day, he went on a TikTok live stream to drag my name through the mud.

In front of the camera, his eyes were bloodshot, his voice dripping with bitter resentment.

"What I wanted was real, pure love, not a relationship built on a pile of cash!"

"She doesn't get me at all. She loves humiliating my heart with her stupid money!"

His best bros chimed in to support him, and the comment section immediately turned into a toxic wasteland, everyone calling me a soulless sugar mommy.

Watching them twist the truth so effortlessly, I only felt a cold, deep irony.

Fine. Since he wanted a love untainted by the smell of money so badly, I decided to grant him his wish.

Not long after, Carter Miller found himself drowning in millions of dollars of debt, with breach-of-contract lawsuits piling up like mountains on his desk.

He ended up on his knees in front of me, looking like a wet, dirty dog, desperately grabbing the hem of my pants, sobbing and begging:

"Vivian, I was wrong! I dont want that bullshit pure love anymore!"

"Please, help me. Give me back my resources, my money... I really cant take this anymore!"

1.

The buzz of my phone felt exceptionally sharp in my empty luxury penthouse.

It was 3:00 AM, and my screen was flashing with countless notifications.

It wasn't work emails on WhatsApp, but rather hundreds of wild tags and mentions on Snapchat and TikTok.

I rubbed my throbbing temples and unlocked the screen.

What caught my eye was a video that had already surpassed a hundred thousand likes.

The creator: "Carters Late-Night Radio."

My boyfriend of five years, Carter Miller.

The cover of the video was a close-up of his facered-rimmed eyes, a broken expression, and a line of shocking text overlay:

[On our 5th anniversary, I received the most devastating gift of my life.]

I clicked on it.

In the video, Carter was sitting in the driver's seat of a pristine, shiny Porsche 911, twirling the key fob.

It was the car I had taken him to pick up just yesterday, worth nearly two hundred thousand dollars.

But he wasn't smiling.

He took a deep, shaky breath for the camera, his voice heavy with suppressed sorrow.

"Today is the fifth anniversary of my relationship with my girlfriend."

"I thought, on such an important milestone, she would have prepared a surprise full of memories."

"Even if it was just a handwritten letter, or taking me back to the diner where we had our first date."

"But no. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing."

He raised the key fob with the Porsche crest, his eyes filled with disgust and hurt.

"She just took me to the dealership, got this new car, and said: 'Like it? Drive it home yourself.'"

"At that moment, my heart completely froze."

"A two-hundred-thousand-dollar car sounds amazing, right? But in my eyes, its just a heap of cold, lifeless metal!"

"It has no warmth, no soul, and absolutely no love!"

"I asked her if she had anything else to say to me. No gift prepared with actual thought?"

"And she actually rolled her eyes and said, 'Isnt this car good enough? Other guys would kill for this. Stop making a scene.'"

In the video, Carter gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white.

"I was speechless. In her eyes, what am I? A pet she can just throw money at?"

"I never wanted her money!"

"I wanted the little things. I wanted the effort. I wanted the romance of being chosen over everything else!"

"Am I wrong? I just wanted a pure love. Why is that so hard?"

"This transactional relationship is literally driving me insane..."

The video cut off there.

I stared at the screen. My chest didn't ache with pity for him like it usually did.

Instead, a wave of pure, unfiltered disgust washed over me.

In his little monologue, he conveniently forgot to mention that this car was his "Dream Car." He had seen someone else driving it two weeks ago and had been whining about it in my ear every single day since.

He also didn't mention how many strings I had to pull, and how much extra cash I had to pay under the table, just to get this exact model delivered in time for our anniversary.

And he definitely didnt mention the context of my line, "Stop making a scene."

We were at the dealership, and he had thrown a massive tantrum in front of everyone because the staff didn't set up a red carpet and a giant bow for his "delivery ceremony," making me look like an idiot.

In his video, I was the heartless, newly-rich b"ch who thought money solved everything.

And he was the noble, poetic prince who refused to bow to wealth.

I tapped open the comments.

The internet had gone completely wild, and the screen was flooded with insults directed at me.

[Oh my god! Carter, don't cry! That classless rich girl doesn't deserve you at all!]

[Two hundred thousand dollars to buy off five years of youth? What does she think love is? A business transaction? Disgusting!]

[So gross! She thinks because she has money, she owns him. She doesn't respect men at all!]

[Support Carter in breaking up! My girlfriend only makes $3,000 a month, but she makes me midnight snacks and hand-knits me beanies. Thats priceless romance! Money is trash!]

[Bro, run! This woman looks down on you in her bones. She thinks you're just after her wallet. You deserve a real girl who actually cares about you!]

[I looked her up! Her name is Vivian Vance, founder of a tech startup. Haha, typical. The richer they are, the colder they get.]

[@VivianVance, apologize! You owe Carter his youth back!]

I scrolled down expressionlessly.

Among the top-liked comments, I spotted a few very familiar handles.

Hudson and Logan.

Carters two "ride-or-die" bros.

Hudson commented: [As Carter's best friend, I honestly can't watch this anymore. Vivian, you boss him around daily, and now you humiliate him like this on your anniversary? Do you even know how many sleepless nights he spent trying to plan a surprise for you?]

Logan commented: [Exactly! Carter is a man of spiritual depth. He wants a soulmate! Your dirty money only pollutes his world! Set him free already!]

But the most hilarious one was the third-highest comment.

It was from Carters mother, Evelyn Miller.

She had replied to a random user:

"Sigh, my Carter was protected too well by me since he was a kid. Hes too pure, too gentle, always dreaming of those idealistic romances."

"I told him long ago that Vivian is too materialistic, too cold. She cant give him the emotional support he needs. But this stubborn boy just wouldn't listen to his mother..."

"Too pure."

"Too gentle."

I looked at the comment and burst out laughing from sheer anger.

I remembered three years ago when Evelyn Miller, claiming she "felt insecure," forced me to buy Carter a luxury apartment in downtown LAand demanded only Carter's name be put on the deed.

And two years ago, when Carters younger brother wanted a new car, she heavily hinted that as Carter's girlfriend, I should fund it.

Just last month, Evelyn went on a vacation to the Maldives and maxed out the 0-050,000 limit on the credit card I gave her.

And now, she was online calling me materialistic, saying I couldn't support her son emotionally.

I threw my phone onto the sofa and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Outside, the glittering night view of the city stretched out before me.

Suddenly, these five years felt like a complete farce.

I had given everything to pamper him and his family until they took it all for granted.

And yet they stood on their high horses, looking down on me, claiming my money was dirty and that I wasn't worthy of their noble souls.

Fine.

Since you think my money is so filthy.

I will give you exactly what you asked for.

The next morning, my apartment doorbell was rung aggressively.

I opened the door to find Carter standing there.

He was wearing a white linen shirt, his hair styled to look messy, and his eyes were slightly pink as if he had cried all night.

Behind him stood Hudson and Logan, looking like two hired goons.

The moment the door opened, Hudson charged forward like a rabid dog protecting its owner.

"Vivian! Do you even have a heart? Carter was in tears until dawn, and you didn't even call him once? You didn't even text back? Do you want him to die?!"

Logan added with a cold sneer, "Vivian, don't think you can do whatever you want just because you have some cash. Love isn't a commodity! Your attitude at the dealership yesterday severely crushed Carters dignity!"

Carter didn't say a word. He just bit his lip, staring at me with a sullen, wounded expression.

If this were the past, seeing him like this would have made me crumble instantly.

I would have rushed over, grabbed his hands, apologized repeatedly, and promised to buy him whatever luxury watch or designer toy he wanted just to see him smile.

But today, I just stood there, watching their little show.

"And?" My voice was flat, without a single ripple of emotion.

My calmness caught the three of them off guard.

Hudson's eyes widened, looking at me like I was some kind of alien. "And? You're asking us 'and'? Vivian, are you a sociopath? As his girlfriend, shouldn't you be reflecting on your toxic behavior?"

"Reflecting on what?" I looked at Carter. "Reflecting on whether I shouldn't have bought you a Porsche?"

Carter flinched, tears instantly welling up in his eyes.

"Vivian! You still don't get it, do you?!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "I don't want a Porsche! I don't want those tacky luxury brands! I just want effort! I want romance that comes from the heart! Why is that so hard for you to understand?!"

"Yeah, Vivian," Logan chimed in sarcastically. "Look at the girls on TikTok. They stay up all night making DIY scrapbooks and setting up fairy lights for their guys. What about you? Besides wire transfers and credit cards, what else do you know how to do? Your lazy attitude is literally a disrespect to love!"

I stared at Logan.

I remembered vividly that for Logan's birthday last month, Carter had used my credit card to buy him a 0-00,000 limited-edition pair of sneakers. Logan had posted it all over his Instagram, calling Carter his "brother for life."

And now, here he was, preaching to me about disrespecting love.

"I see," I said, nodding slowly.

"You see what?" Hudson looked at me suspiciously. "Don't think you can just brush us off with some half-assed apology. Im telling you, Carter is seriously heartbroken this time. If you don't do something big to make it up to him, this is over!"

"Something big?" I let out a soft laugh. "Like what?"

Hudson answered immediately, as if he had rehearsed this. "Next month is Carters birthday. This is your last chance to redeem yourself! If you dare to insult him with another tacky sports car, well make sure he dumps you for good!"

"Exactly!" Logan added. "For this birthday, you are not allowed to buy your way out. You have to hand-make everything. Got it?"

Carter stood behind them. Though he remained silent, his eyes were full of smug expectation.

He was waiting for me to beg, to crawl, to rack my brain to create some "meaningful" DIY romance for him.

Looking at their arrogant faces, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

"Okay," I smiled warmly. "I promise."

Carter's eyes lit up, a flash of victory passing through them.

"Vivian..." He stepped forward, gently taking my hand, his voice softening. "I didn't mean to make things public on TikTok. I was just... I was just so desperate for you to understand me. You're not mad at me, right?"

"Of course not," I looked into his eyes. "You want pure, cost-free, heartfelt romance, right?"

"Yes!" Carter nodded eagerly, looking like an idealistic boy.

"For your birthday next month, I will prepare a romance that you will never, ever forget."

I smiled and gently straightened his collar.

"I promise, not a single penny of dirty money will ruin it."

Carter let out a long sigh of relief and patted my shoulder.

Hudson and Logan exchanged a look, both smiling in satisfaction.

In their minds, I was still the rich, gullible Vivian who would do anything to keep her man.

They thought they would see me act like a clown next month, trying to please them with pathetic DIY crafts.

Oh, they had no idea.

The game had just begun.

After throwing them out, I went straight to my study and opened my laptop.

Since we were going "pure" and "non-materialistic," I had to commit to the role fully.

First, I called Marcus, the sales manager at the Porsche dealership.

"Marcus, about that 911 we picked up yesterday. I'm not satisfied with it."

Marcus panicked on the other end of the line. "Ms. Vance! Is there an issue with the car? Just say the word, we will send a team to assist you immediately!"

"No, the car is fine," I said casually. "My boyfriend thinks the car is too tacky for his sophisticated taste. Send someone over to my building to tow it back."

Marcus was stunned, silent for a few seconds. "Uh... Ms. Vance, the car is already registered. If you return it now, it can only be processed as a used-car trade-in. You'll lose quite a bit..."

"I don't care," I cut him off. "Deduct whatever you need to. Just make sure that car is out of my garage by tonight."

After hanging up, I opened my banking app.

I found the authorized user credit card with the 0-050,000 monthly limit that Carter always carried.

I tapped "Freeze Card."

Next, I dialed my Chief Financial Officer, Leo.

"Leo, liquidate the accounts of 'The Solitude Cafe' immediately."

"The Solitude Cafe" was a passion project Carter had whined about wanting two years ago. I had funded the entire thingfrom the prime downtown location to the high-end interior design and the premium organic coffee bean supply chain.

To save his "independent artist" pride, I had registered him as the sole owner and brand founder.

But in reality, because Carter only cared about hosting poetry readings and giving away free hand-brewed coffee to his hipster friends, the cafe was bleeding cash every month.

My parent company had been silently covering all his losses.

Leo hesitated. "Ms. Vance, that cafe has a monthly deficit of about $50,000. If we pull the plug now..."

"Cut all financial support from the parent company," I ordered coldly. "Starting today, Carter Miller is solely responsible for the rent, utilities, employee wages, and supplier bills.

Also, tell our legal team to draft a formal repayment contract for all the losses our company covered over the past two years. We're going to court."

"Understood, Ms. Vance." Leo was a smart man and asked no further questions.

Leaning back in my leather chair, I let out a long breath.

For five years, I had been a bottomless piggy bank, feeding Carter and his family's bottomless vanity.

I thought that if I gave him enough, he would eventually see my devotion.

But I was wrong.

Some people will eat your food and complain that your plates are too heavy.

Since he hated the gold, I would take it back and leave him in the mud.

That afternoon, Carter sent me a message on Snapchat.

"Babe, my card was declined? I'm at the mall with Hudson, and we found a limited-edition designer jacket, but the transaction didn't go through."

I looked at the screen, a cold smirk playing on my lips.

I replied: "Sweetheart, to prepare for your birthday surprise, I've decided to cut off all material distractions starting today. I want to show you that even without money, I can give you the most fulfilling love. Don't buy that jacket. I will hand-make a better one for you."

The chat screen went silent. Ten minutes later, Carter replied with a single word: "Okay."

Even through the screen, I could picture his facegritting his teeth, forced to pretend he was touched by my "thoughtfulness."

He had built the "money is trash" persona himself. Now, he had to play the part, even if it killed him.