Rich and Rotten

by Jahquel J

Genres: Women's Fiction; African American Romance

Synopsis

Explosive, sensual, and unapologetically raw, Rich and Rotten delivers Jahquel J.’s signature blend of passionate romance and high-stakes family drama—where love is the most dangerous game, and trust is the rarest luxury.

In Greenwich Pointe’s world of Black wealth and power, Tatiana Rich has everything money can buy—except freedom. When her kingpin father forces her into a strategic marriage with the Sterling dynasty’s heir, she begs Nazir Kane—the man she fell for during her college years—to run away with her.

By morning, he’s vanished without a word.

A decade later, Tatiana is rebuilding her life after her husband Karim’s tragic death. While raising their daughter and growing her luxury spa empire, an assassination attempt on her father brings an unexpected guardian: Nazir Kane—now a powerful security specialist assigned to protect her family.

Living under the same roof as the man who shattered her heart is torture enough. But as old flames reignite, darker truths emerge about the father who controlled her and the husband she mourned.

With enemies closing in and whispers that her husband’s death wasn’t an accident, Tatiana must decide if the man who once betrayed her is the only one who can save her now . . .

Publisher: Black Odyssey Media

Print pages: 288

Sample

Prologue

Tatiana Rich

Rubbing my temples, I paced back and forth in front of my father’s fireplace in his office, searching for the right words that would be respectful. He sat behind his desk with his hands clasped together, while his associate was seated in one of the plush chairs positioned in front of the massive oak desk––the first piece of furniture my father purchased when he built our mansion. The desk, which had many hidden compartments, was his prized possession, and he often became excited when someone complimented him on it or showed even the slightest interest.

As I kept pacing, my father’s eyes followed me. I could tell he was growing impatient with my silence, but I’m not sure what kind of response he expected after having sent the helicopter to pick me up from college just so he could rip my heart from my chest and tear it into tiny pieces. I’m not saying it was his intention, but that’s what it felt like.

“Tatiana,” my father’s deep voice thundered through the quiet room.

His associate remained seated and quiet. A much older man than my father, he was impeccably dressed, and the Rolls-Royce Cullinan waiting outside for him told me that he had some money, which was typical for my father because he was never around anyone who couldn’t offer him something.

He loved to remind me that how he grew up and how I grew up were completely different. While he grew up in New York City, I had been raised in Greenwich Pointe, a small city an hour from the Big Apple. When it came time to choose a college, my parents wouldn’t let me go far. They told me I needed to pick one that was close to home, and because they had been faithfully donating to Langston-Wells University since I was a child, it ultimately became my choice. The university’s new library even had my family’s last name engraved on a golden plaque displayed right inside the doorway. Everyone knew who the Rich family was and the importance of my parents’ contributions to LWU. So, while my high school friends were excited about picking their colleges––some even planning to study abroad––I was stuck attending a school that was almost in our backyard.

Greenwich Pointe was a prominent city filled with wealthy Black families who had more money than they knew what to do with, including my family. The lush greenery just inside the city’s limits had immaculate landscaping, and a sign announced that the city was founded in 1945. Avery and Malcolm Rich moved here a year before I was born and never left because Greenwich was my mother’s comfort zone. She especially enjoyed coffee dates with her friends after Pilates and was known for throwing elaborate parties that many hoped to receive an invitation to.

Unlike my father, my mother came from money, so none of what my father introduced her to was new to her. Growing up, I had a nanny, took dance and piano lessons, and never left Greenwich Pointe unless we were flying out of the country on our family’s jet.

When it was time to go off to college, I couldn’t wait to get out from under my parents’ thumb. I was their only child, and they smothered me, always making sure I did right and avoided what I wasn’t supposed to do. A teenager is expected to make mistakes they can learn from, right? Not me. I never did any wrong because that wasn’t the Rich family’s standard. Even now, I wanted to choose my words carefully to avoid disrespecting my father, but at the same time, let him know I wasn’t going for this shit. He couldn’t have possibly thought I’d agree to this.

“You called me home to tell me that I’m getting married in two months. What do you expect me to say to this news?”

My father stared at me, then glanced at his associate as I waited for him to say something.

Anything.

His associate looked familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on where I had met him before. At that moment, I couldn’t care less about how or where I might have known him. I was more focused on why my father pulled me away from school.

I didn’t come home often because I enjoyed my freedom at my condo in the city and relished being away from my parents. It didn’t mean I didn’t love them; I just liked having my own life outside of them, with friends who didn’t care about the year of the chardonnay or the latest gossip in Greenwich. They only cared about their studies and living life on their own terms. Most of my friends were attending Langston-Wells on scholarships and didn’t come from wealthy families.

Then there was him.

My heart fluttered whenever I thought about Nazir, who was back at my condo sleeping before he had to leave for work. I had never felt the same way about anyone else as I did with him. Although he wasn’t a student at Langston-Wells, I met him there when he was visiting his cousin.

“I understand this is a lot for you to process, but you will marry Karim Sterling. The Rich and Sterling families have been friends for many years.”

With my hand on my hip, I replied, “Well, why haven’t I seen them at any of our family events? Hell, this is the first time I’m seeing this man…I think.”

“Tatiana Rich, watch your mouth and show some respect. Raphael Sterling has been around our family for years. He recently moved back to Greenwich Pointe, and we both believe that merging our families through marriage will make us even more powerful.”

Did I hear him right? Did he really just say he wants me to marry some stranger to make our family more powerful?

“How much more powerful do you need to be, Daddy? You’re known by everyone, have friends in the highest places, and have more money than we could ever need. How much more power do you need before it turns into greed?”

He leaned forward in his chair, rested his forearms on the desk, and looked at me with a stern expression. My father was always so regal, in control, and never let his emotions show. I can’t remember a time when he shed a tear or even looked like he was on the verge of doing so. He was always so stoic and commanding that being around him could be exhausting at times.

What I said was true, though. What was the point of having all this money if he and my mother weren’t going to enjoy it? My parents never traveled or engaged in the kinds of activities that most people with their wealth did. With their only child away at college, I expected them to be jet-setting around the world. My father took business trips, but my mother spent most of her time alone. I think that’s why she kept busy with all the different organizations she was involved in at Greenwich Pointe. It was to take her mind off the fact that her marriage was a façade; she didn’t have the perfect marriage everyone thought she did.

“I’m your father, and I know what’s best for you. I’ve allowed you to go to college and get that out of your system. Now you will return to Greenwich Pointe and marry a Sterling. And I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth, Tatiana.”

“Allowed?” I managed to choke out. 

My heart pounded, and my breathing quickened as I stared at my father, who had a scowl on his face, as if daring me to say something in defiance. 

Raphael Sterling remained seated and unbothered by the exchange between my father and me, as if he had no doubt the marriage would happen and saw no need to intervene.

“You need to return to the city and get your affairs in order. The wedding is in two months.”

Every word from my father’s mouth felt like a dagger in my throat, while he seemed unfazed by it all. This wasn’t ruining my father’s life; it was destroying mine. Yet he didn’t seem to care. How could someone be so cold and calculating? 

I stood there speechless before turning and storming out of his office to find my mother, who was conducting business on a video call in the sunroom. She smiled at first, but when she saw the distress on my face, she quickly excused herself and came over to me. Her curly hair was pushed back from her forehead, with a pencil tucked into her bun, and her rich cocoa skin showed concern as she searched my eyes.

“Tati, what’s going on? What’s the matter?”

I struggled to control my breathing after running from one end of the house to the other.

“Ma-ma-married, Mom,” I panted. “Dad’s trying to make me marry some stranger.”

My mother wrapped her arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

“Karim isn’t a stranger. You both attended the same middle school before he moved away.”

Snatching away, I glared at her and replied, “Mom, what are you talking about? He’s a fucking stranger to me. You cannot possibly agree with this!”

She took a breath and gently took my hand in hers.

“Do you think your father was my first choice, Tatiana? Coming from an affluent family sometimes requires sacrifices to protect the family.”

I truly felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. What did any of this mean? My father didn’t come from money, but my mother did. So, what was her reason for marrying a man from a different background? I always assumed she married for love.

“Fuck what any of you are talking about. I’m not marrying him. I refuse to be used like a pawn in whatever game he’s playing. He never tells us anything, and now he suddenly wants to include me in a business deal like I’m some piece of property.”

“Family…we’re uniting two powerful families, baby.”

I snatched my hand away and sprinted back down the hall to leave. As I passed my father’s office, he and Raphael were toasting as if this was going to be some beautiful arrangement. 

I hated him. 



“Time After Time” by Jon B.

It was past midnight when I heard the key turn in the lock of my condo. Nazir was the only person with a key, so when I heard it, I knew he was home. Although, if you let him tell it, he refused to call this his home. He said he would never feel comfortable living under a roof paid for by another man. He was prideful like that. Even though I told him I didn’t need the money, he still gave me some each month to pay my father. Unbeknownst to him, I kept the money in my account, never touching it.

Despite having more money than I knew what to do with, he refused to let me spend it. When we went on dates, I wouldn’t dare insult him by trying to reach for the bill or dig inside my purse for money to pay. I didn’t know what Nazir was into that allowed him to spend money the way he did, and I had learned from my father never to ask. There was no reason to ask questions that I secretly knew the answers to. 

As I lay on my silk pillow, I could hear him take off his boots, set his keys down on the kitchen counter, and shimmy out of his coat. I had spent a lot of time studying Nazir. He was someone I wanted to be with forever. I hoped to be his wife someday and tell our children how we met while I was in college — how their father had a plan to be more than what life had initially afforded him. 

Stopping in the doorway, Nazir leaned against the frame and took a breath. Even in the dark, I knew his features as well as my own. He was 6’4” and muscular. Working out was the one thing that gave him peace and clarity. While I always felt like I was fighting for my life whenever I exercised, he did it effortlessly. His brown skin glistened as he licked his thick lips. He had a few tattoos, but had mentioned more than once that he wanted to cover his entire body in them. His hair was cut short, but his curl pattern was still visible. His beard was thick and unkempt, a testament to his dedication to his mission. To me, his outer appearance didn’t matter as much as what was on the inside or his efforts to make money to take care of us.

“You’re not sleep?” his deep voice grumbled, tiredness woven into his words. 

I sat up in bed, and when he heard me sniffle, he moved closer.

“I can’t sleep,” I answered, my voice cracking. 

Nazir sat down and pulled me into him as he softly kissed my lips. “What’s the matter, Tata?”

He was the only one who called me that nickname, and every time he said it, I felt an intense warmth spread through my body. I’ve always been Tati––or Tatiana when my parents wanted to make their point clear. They had never given me a nickname, so Nazir giving me one made me feel special. 

Cherished. 

I took a deep breath. The last thing I wanted was to break his heart—and mine. The life we planned together wasn’t just something I wanted––it was something I needed. A simple life where the man loved me the way I deserved to be loved. I didn’t need jets, yachts, or all the frivolous things I had access to growing up. None of those things mattered when you’re unhappy deep down inside. 

My mother always looked tired and worn out, and she couldn’t hide the sadness in her eyes from me. I knew her too well. I can’t remember a time when she and my father kissed or laughed as he playfully smacked her on the butt. Moments like that never happened in our home. Or maybe they only did those things in the privacy of their bedroom since my mother was on the conservative side. For years, I believed that until I was old enough to realize my parents had a master suite with two sides––one for her and one for my father––like British royals. 

“Let’s run away, Zir.”

With a confused look, he replied, “After you had me buy those damn concert tickets you wanted? We’re not running nowhere.” 

Nazir was trying to lighten the dark mood, but when he saw it wasn’t working, he became even more concerned.

“Please,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

I couldn’t tell him that my father was trying to force me to marry another man. It would be too painful to say those words to him. I just needed him to know I wanted to be with him.

“Tata, why you wanna leave?”

“I’m tired of trying to live up to my parents’ standards and the expectations they set for me. I want something new. I want simple. Isn’t that what you want, too, baby?”

He wiped the tears from my cheeks and gently kissed my lips. “Yes, Tata, but that’s not the way to do this. It would hurt your parents.”

“Please, baby,” I pleaded. “I can make things right afterward. Right now, I just want to leave and figure out life somewhere else––get married.”

I desperately wanted him to agree to run away with me. If I left with him, my father wouldn’t be able to force me into marrying someone I didn’t know or love.

He exhaled deeply. “I’m working on some things for us, baby. I want to give you that simple life, but I also don’t want to tear your family apart in the process.”

“Please.” I kissed his lips and slowly removed the silk pajama top I was wearing. 

His eyes took me in as he pushed me back onto the bed, hovering over me. He pressed his lips roughly against mine while sliding down my pajama shorts and pulling off his pants. I craved his body as much as he craved mine. 

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy good,” he growled near my ear. “Then you gonna fall asleep in my arms. We’ll figure the rest of this shit out tomorrow.”

“Yessss, Zir. Fuck me,” I begged.

Every part of my body responded to him. His words were like strings, and my body moved with his every command. Pushing my legs apart, he shoved himself deep inside of me. I’ve been handled like fragile glass my entire life, so I welcomed his aggressiveness. Arching my back, I took all of him. Then he slowly pulled out before slamming inside me again as I whimpered. I needed this. It had been an emotional day, and my mind had been racing ever since I stepped into my condo after flying back. But whenever Nazir plugged me up, everything always went silent. The world seemed quieter, and it was just the two of us in that moment. 

“Fuck, Tata. You know you my world, right?”

“I know, baby. I… I…” I moaned.

“Say what you mean and mean what you say, beloved,” he grunted, reciting his favorite saying.

His strong, long strokes made me feel them in my eyelids, and I screamed in ecstasy. 

Because my father bought the two empty condos on either side of mine, I didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing my cries of passion. My wish was to turn this entire floor into my dream condo, and since I got everything I wanted, he planned to make that happen for me. 

“Where your mind at, Tata? Tell me. You not feeling this dick in your guts? Tell a nigga something, baby,” he grunted.

Raising my upper body from the bed, I started sucking on his lips. In response, he shoved his tongue down my throat and his dick up my vagina. I swear he was touching my intestines. It felt so good, his ass had me panting like a rabid dog. I was right there. The orgasm was slow-building, like ice cream churning inside a machine. Just as I was about to explode, he flipped me on my stomach, entered me from behind, and smacked my ass, causing it to ripple.

“Zir...God…please…I’m going to...” I moaned, rocking to meet his thrusts.

Sex between us was always so special. Nazir, who was usually gentle with me, turned into someone else. He treated me the way I wanted to be treated in the bedroom––never handling me with white gloves. Yes, we made love, and during our lovemaking, he would handle me as if I were the most precious jewel in the world. But when we fucked? He made sure to fuck me properly. And after the day I had with my father, I needed this more than he could have known.

With a firm grip on my hips, Nazir slammed me against him until I felt his body stiffen and his semen coat my walls. Then he collapse. . .