Lifestyles of the Rich and Shameless Read online

  Also By Kiki Swinson

  Wifey

  I’m Still Wifey

  Life After Wifey

  The Candy Shop

  A Sticky Situation

  Still Wifey Material

  Playing Dirty

  Notorious

  Sleeping with the Enemy (with Wahida Clark)

  Heist (with De’nesha Diamond)

  Also by Noire

  Maneater (with Mary B. Morrison)

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  Lifestyles of the RICH and SHAMELESS

  KIKI SWINSON NOIRE

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Shamelessly Rich

  Prologue - My Worst Mistake

  1 - My Twenty-first Birthday

  2 - My Fair Warning

  3 - My Rude Awakening

  4 - My Dose of Harsh Reality

  5 - My Desperation

  6 - My Master Plan

  7 - My Worst Mistake

  8 - My Punishment

  Puttin’ Shame in the Game - Noire

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  Shamelessly Rich

  Kiki Swinson

  Prologue

  My Worst Mistake

  Blood. There was so much blood everywhere. It was clouding my vision. And the smell. It was so strong and overwhelming. The smell was one I could never forget.

  “Aggghhh!” I screamed as my body moved involuntarily. I didn’t even realize I was jumping up and down. The sight in front of me was ghastly and I thought I would go into shock. I had stood by and done nothing and now I was going to pay for it. We were going to pay dearly for it, I should say.

  “Megan, shut the fuck up! If you scream again it’s over! I put a bullet in his ass and end this whole shit,” Eric yelled at me. His face was contorted into a scowl I had never seen him wear before. One of his fists was clenched tightly and his other hand gripped a gun so hard that his knuckles were pale. I knew he meant business, so I tried to obey his demands. I clasped my hands over my mouth, trying to keep the screams in. It didn’t work. As I looked down again, trying to muffle a scream proved futile. I was brimming with emotion. This whole shit was out of control now.

  “What did you do?” I belted out through wracking sobs. I could feel my face swelling from all of the crying I had been doing. There was blood everywhere—on the floor, on the table, some had even squirted on the wall. It was clear that our victim needed medical attention, and fast. I stared at the almost lifeless form in front of me. Things had gone terribly wrong. Eric had gone berserk punching and kicking and hitting. It was supposed to be easy. There wasn’t supposed to be any violence involved, just a snatch, grab, and collect. “Oh God, Eric ... What did you do?” I hollered again.

  “I did what we planned to do! Remember whose fuckin’ idea this was in the first place. Now shut the fuck up and get on the phone and make them believe us now!” Eric growled cruelly. I knew he was right. This had all been my idea. All for revenge. I never meant for it to turn out like this.

  “Start fuckin’ movin’! I’m gonna snap the fuckin’ pictures of his half-dead ass. Just in case they don’t believe that this shit is serious,” Eric continued in the same cruel, ruthless voice as before. It amazed me how he could just stand in a pool of a helpless person’s blood and not even care. Eric was definitely not the man I thought he was. My vision had been clouded. Too clouded.

  “I—I ... can’t!” I wailed. My stomach was cramping and my entire body trembled. I couldn’t stop staring at the victim. I couldn’t help but think that this was all my fault. I had done all of this to myself and to my family. Now here I stood feeling like the worst person alive. Now I wanted to just save him—take him and run far away from Eric and his goons that were outside. I wanted to ask for forgiveness for being such a selfish and spoiled little bitch.

  “Help me ... Me ... gan,” he whispered weakly through his bloody, battered lips. That broke my heart. I was so happy he was still alive, but his words and hearing him rasp out my name sent a pang of hurt throughout my body and a cold chill down my spine. How could I have done something so wretched to my own flesh and blood?

  “Shut the fuck up! She can’t help you. The only one that can help you is your accountant!” Eric barked, rushing over to where I stood. I shot Eric an evil look. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. All this time, I’d thought I was in love with Eric, but I realized right then that I was just infatuated with his bad boy style and the things he represented.

  Being with Eric had been like a walk on the wild side for me ... like an adventure. Being born with a silver spoon in my mouth wasn’t enough. I had grown bored with growing up wealthy and having everything at my disposal. From the time I could remember, I’d had everything. And I do mean everything. I guess all of the international trips, the private school education, high-priced gifts for doing absolutely nothing at all, having enough money at my disposal that I could afford to lose thousands at a time and not even care and having every material thing that I wanted just wasn’t enough for me. I was still bored as hell. By the time I was eighteen, I wanted more.

  I went out with a ghetto bad boy for the thrill of it. Eric was the complete opposite of me. He had grown up dirt poor and his story was stereotypical of what my parents had tried to keep me away from—Eric’s mother was on crack, his father was never in the picture, and he was raised by a grandmother who was in such bad health that she couldn’t discipline him or keep up with him. He was a street hustler by the time he was fifteen years old and he came from the worst part of Virginia Beach. Although Eric was just thirty-one, he had already done two stints in prison. I had thought of him as such an adventure. Not to mention that all of the hot sex, ecstasy pills, and weed, run-ins with the law and making other girls jealous also excited me about Eric. Every chick in Virginia Beach wanted a piece of Eric Chambers, but he had chosen me. That made me feel more special than any gift my father could have ever given me. But look where my stupid infatuation and need for a walk on the wild side led to.

  “You think I’m fuckin’ playing, right?” Eric hissed, walking over and kicking the already defenseless victim in the side.

  “Aggh!” he screamed out in pain. I had not even realized I was daydreaming and hesitating to make the call. “Stop it! You said you wouldn’t hurt him!” I screeched. The tears were uncontrollable now.

  “Bitch, if you don’t pick up the phone and dial somebody to get the money, I will fuckin’ kill him and pin all this shit on you! Or better yet, I might just kill your ass too,” Eric barked. His face was so serious. I knew when he was bluffing and this wasn’t one of those moments. I knew that if I didn’t do it, Eric would be committing murder for real.

  My hands were trembling fiercely as I dialed the familiar number. I clutched my cell phone tightly against my ear and prayed that the accountant answered. Eric was standing over me menacingly as he brandished his gun so both of us could see it.

  “Hello,” I breathed into the phone through the computerized voice disguiser. I swallowed hard when I recognized the familiar voice on the message service tha
t picked up. I felt like I would piss on myself. Eric snatched the phone from me. He could see that I had frozen up like a deer caught in headlights.

  “We want three million in cash for his release. We ain’t callin’ again! If you involve the cops, he dies. No second chances!” Eric screamed into the phone.

  My heart sank as I looked into the battered face of my own father. I felt a sickening mixture of emotions. Part anger, part regret, and a large part fear. I wished we weren’t at this point. I wished my parents had hidden their disapproval of my wild life instead of treating me so badly. In time, we could’ve worked it out. But we didn’t, so I set up this scheme to get revenge. I’d wanted them to hurt as much as I did, but now I see that I was being greedy and self-centered. Damn, I wished that I could rewind time.

  1

  My Twenty-first Birthday

  “Thank you, Daddy!” I squealed as I raced over to my brand new apple red sparkly Range Rover. The new vehicle gleamed so brightly I had to put on my Gucci shades to look at it in the bright sun. I rushed around it, peeking into the windows and examining every inch of my new toy. “Oh my God! Daddy! You had it all custom kitted just for me!” I said excitedly as I peered into the window and looked at the interior. My father had had my new Range tricked out in a shiny, metallic red, custom exterior paint that had sparkles in it. He’d also put the Range on twenty-two-inch chrome rims with the same red paint splashed between the rim spokes. The inside was tan leather with red piping around the seats and my initials embroidered in red on the headrests. It was definitely something nobody else in Virginia Beach would have. My father knew how to please his baby girl.

  “You are the best daddy a girl could have!” I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck and squeezing him.

  My father was smiling and shaking his head proudly. He broke up our embrace and looked at me lovingly. “Happy Birthday, baby girl,” he said as he extended his hand with the keys. He knew looking at it from the outside was killing me.

  I snatched the keys from him and hurriedly unlocked the door of my new whip. Once inside, the new car smell filled my nostrils and I felt like I was in heaven. It had everything imaginable and I was already picturing the jealous stares I would get. This car was definitely going to make a statement around town. Smiling from ear to ear, I said, “I’m ready to go! Can I go show off?”

  “You need to drive responsibly,” my father said seriously as he leaned into my driver side window. “Now that you’re twenty-one and old enough to drink ... I want you to think like an adult. No drinking and driving, no speeding, no—”

  “Daddy,” I whined, cutting him off. “Don’t spoil my happy moment with one of your lectures,” I said. I was still cheesing from ear to ear.

  “Megan, your mother and I worry about you. I just want you to be responsible ... please,” he said, not letting up. I heard him, but I wasn’t trying to hear him. He was right about one thing. I was twenty-one now and old enough to drink and do as I pleased.

  “What time are you coming home, young lady?” my mother chimed in, sticking her smiling face into the passenger side window of my ride. I hadn’t even noticed her walk up to us. Looking at my mother was like looking into a mirror. I was every bit the spitting image of her. We were both your typical biracial-looking types with long dark hair and light brown eyes. I stood about two inches taller than her at five feet and six inches, but that didn’t take anything away from my mother’s model looks. Plus, with the help of my mother’s plastic surgeon, she and I both had the most perfect C cup breasts and Brazilian butt lifts you’d ever seen on a mother/daughter pair. My mother had definitely let me indulge in some of her vices, like plastic surgery and wearing revealing clothes. My father didn’t always agree, but he didn’t wield much power in my house. People often mistook my mother and me for Kim Kar-dashian and her mother when we were out. We always found it so amusing. I mean, we did have just as much, or more money than the Kardashians, so they weren’t too far off. Personally, I thought I looked a little prettier than Kim, and my mother, well, she had not one single wrinkle popping up like Kim Kar-dashian’s mother, who in my opinion needed more Botox.

  “Megan, you haven’t answered my question,” my mother reminded me. I had avoided it on purpose. She was such a worry wart. I knew how to get her to back off though.

  “Well, you know I have to show off and take this baby for a spin around Virginia Beach. I have to show Krista and her mom. You know they’ll just die when they see it,” I said, wickedly gauging my mother’s reaction. Her face softened and I could tell she had bought my story. “I promise to be home at a decent hour,” I assured her. I knew that any mention of making someone in Virginia Beach jealous would back her down. She was in a competition with Mrs. Boyd, my used-tobe best friend Krista’s mom. My mother would agree to anything to get Mrs. Boyd jealous or to show her up.

  “Make sure you blow your horn in that bitch’s driveway,” my mother said evilly.

  “I’m headed there right now,” I replied. I was lying like no tomorrow. I had no plans on seeing Krista or showing her mother my new whip. Krista and I had stopped speaking months ago. We no longer had shit in common. I planned to be out all night to make sure everybody, especially my haters, got to see my whip. My mother gave me another stern warning and my father gave me a kiss on my cheek. They both stepped away from the truck as I peeled out of our circular driveway. I was on my way to see my new man and to make a few hood-rat bitches very upset.

  I looked down at my T-shirt, which read Shamelessly Rich, and smirked to myself. That was an understatement. I was unbelievably spoiled and damn sure wasn’t ashamed to be rich. My last name was Rich and it was more than just a coincidence. I was definitely born into a rich family. I was the only child of one of the wealthiest men in Virginia. By the time I was born, my father, Gavin Rich, was a well-known business tycoon who had clawed his way to the top of the Forbes list. Not only did he own a string of Shell gas stations in more than ten states, he had cornered the market on Virginia Beach beachfront properties and high-rises before the housing market crashed. My father was one of the shrewdest businessmen around. Some people said he was even more cutthroat than Donald Trump.

  My father, a German immigrant who initially came to America on a student visa but elected to stay after he finished all of his studies, met my mother, the beautiful Priscilla Rich, while they both attended Columbia University. My father disowned his family when they had a problem with my mother being half black and half Italian. Both of my parents were well educated. They dated while they pursued master’s degrees in business management and accounting. All of this was before I was born, of course. By the time I came along, my father had already made a boatload of money. A friend of his had told him about an opportunity to buy a gas station in Virginia Beach and the rest is history. I have heard the story so many times about how my father jumped at the opportunity. He and my mother took out a business loan and borrowed money from her family so they could make the venture happen. Once everything was finalized, they moved to the suburbs of Virginia Beach. Let’s just say he made many more great business decisions after that and I was the benefactor of them all.

  I never knew a day where I wanted for anything. If I even looked at something hard it was mine right after. My father spent a fortune to make me happy. He always said I would be taking over the lead on his businesses, but I was not interested in that shit at all. I was satisfied taking what I needed from him. Everyone around town knew who I was. From the time I was in grade school, I was nicknamed the “rich” girl. The irony is still lost on some people. Most women envied me while the men wanted to be seen with me. I had my pick of the litter. I probably could have stolen a grown-ass man from his wife.

  Twenty minutes later, I eased the Range Rover down the crowded street of one of the worst neighborhoods in Virginia Beach. I knew all eyes would be on me. I blew my horn loudly and the crowd of street hustlers that were all posted up against an abandoned house all turned around and glared in t
he direction of my Range. I could see them ducking their heads and squinting their eyes to see who was coming through their hood in such a fly-ass whip. I blew the horn again as I pulled up slowly to the decrepit house. Some of the hustlers put their hands on their waistbands in a show of defense; that’s when I knew I had to hurry up and identify myself before my ass ended up filled with holes.

  “What’s up, Eric? Hey, boo!” I sang out as I bent my head and peeked out the window. All of the dudes out there were staring at me now.

  Eric had his mouth hung open in shock. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It didn’t take him long to change that shocked looked into a huge smile. “Dayum, rich girl! Ya daddy was trickin’ on that ass again,” Eric said, showing all his pearly whites as he bopped over to me. He put his face in the window and planted the most sloppy tongue kiss on me. I knew it was all a show for his little street thug friends.

  “Mmmm, I like the way that tastes,” I said as we pulled away from each other. I inhaled his scent and it was intoxicating. The mixture of cologne and his bad boy swag had me ready to jump his damn bones right then and there.