The Billionaire’s Kitten

But somehow Kitty’s taken over. She took one look at my immaculate apartment and shook her head.

“Can we change things up a little?” she’d asked gently. “Just a little, maybe swap out some things? A couple accent pieces here and there?”

I shook my head with disbelief.

“I paid fifty grand,” I grunted, gesturing to the white leather couches and modern, sleek console. “I forked over fifty grand to professionals to do up this place. And that doesn’t even count what I spent on the furniture itself.”

The brunette tilted her chin at me.

“I know Gray,” she murmured softly, those caramel eyes searching and so sensitive. “I know you spent a lot, but this place seems impersonal, a little like a hotel. It doesn’t have a trace of you, or of any human being whatsoever. It belongs in a magazine, like real people don’t live here.”

I surveyed the white living room. Sure, it was perfect, nothing out of place. And I am a hotel magnate, so of course my place would look like a hotel. But maybe the female was right. Because the space was cold and calculating, with polished surfaces and hard gleaming edges.

“Gray,” her voice interrupted, firmly this time. “I know you, and this isn’t you. Sure, you’re tough and domineering, but you’re also human. You have a funny, charming mom, and you have me, your fiancée. So why would you live like this? This place looks really lonely, honestly, like the inside of an ice cube.”

Ouch, that was a zinger. But that’s the thing. Somehow I let Kitty get away with murder, she talks to me in a way that should turn me into a raging bear. In fact, if someone else gave me this kind of lip, they’d be pounded into the pavement already, fired and shit outta luck.

But with Kitty, somehow it’s different. So yeah, here I am at the furniture store with my fiancée on my arm. It was almost too perfect, we looked like a couple from a commercial. Except this isn’t real. Kitty is my fake fiancée, and so what the fuck is going on? I shook my head, still confused. Shit, my life was taking twists and turns, becoming a roller coaster of doubt. Me, the alpha who’s always owned his future, is being led around like a stray puppy by a sweet, sensitive girl.

Except that Kitty acted like nothing was wrong.

“Hi,” she said with a smile to the salesperson. “We’re here to outfit my fiancé’s apartment.”

The woman bowed and smiled, her nose practically touching the floor.

“Of course! Which room or rooms? And were you looking to spruce things up, or was this a complete re-do?”

“Complete re-do,” said Kitty firmly before I could even get a word in. “We’re getting rid of everything and starting fresh.”

Of course, the saleslady practically bowed again, drooling obsessively. Because on my dime, she was gonna get a huge commission, we were likely to spend six figures on furniture today.

I had to put my foot down. This was crazy, and opening my mouth, the protest began. But Kitty’s sweet smile stopped me in my tracks.

“My fiancé here is shy,” she cooed. “Gray doesn’t know much about furniture, but I wanted him to come along because he lives there too, you know? So he’ll be along for the ride, but don’t be afraid of him,” she confided in a whisper. “He’s just a big, cuddly bear at heart. He’s just as excited as I am to be re-decorating.”

I looked at her, stunned. Holy shit. This was like being ratted out by a real wife, a real fiancée. Besides, big cuddly bear? Where the fuck did that come from? I was a deadly assassin, not some stuffed animal here for hugs.

But the saleslady nodded approvingly.

“Oh I completely understand,” she chimed. “We have so many men who don’t know how to express themselves. He’s lucky to have you,” she clucked at Kitty. “He’s lucky to have a loving woman like you, looking out for his best interests.”

And the two females started walking the aisles together, heads close, chattering about fabric samples and whatnot. I was too stunned to move at first, my big form rooted in place. Was this really happening? Was I really here, at a furniture store, playing the role of “clueless guy” as my fiancée wandered ahead, chatting amiably with the saleslady, scouting for new stuff?

But evidently, this was my life because Kitty turned then, gesturing to me.

“Come on Gray,” she called sweetly. “Come on, we’re already all the way over here.”

And like a puppy on a leash, my big form jolted forwards. Yes, I was obeying her commands, she was the puppeteer and I was the marionette, there were invisible strings tied to my limbs. I was hers to command, hanging on to her every sweet word like a crazy, head over heels in love billionaire. What the hell?