The Mafia's Nanny (SPG)
We even bought a bed soft as a cloud, a litter box that looked like furniture, and tiny sweaters with little buttons.
Fancy stuff. The cat had it better than I did—I’d counted my underwear this morning: fifteen pairs total, eight with holes worn through the fabric. When would I get to buy something new?
Next was a drive-thru—fast food, warm and greasy, the kind that sticks to your fingers. The sky was darkening, purple and heavy at the edges, so we didn’t linger. Twenty minutes later, we were pulling into the mansion’s driveway.
“Yay! Yay! I have a pussy—cat!” Levi shouted, beaming so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners.