Page 73 of Forced Vows

"Eww…if you put it that way…just eww." Fiona's voice is soaked in disgust.

I smile. My job here is done.

The thought brings me up short. This is the way things used to be with me, Sev and Giulia, our sister. But that was ten years ago. None of us can indulge in that kind of byplay anymore.

Except, it looks like I can with my too young fiancée and her even younger cousin.

Managgia la miseria. Róise has been of legal age to drink for less than a week.

"Watch out, your face might freeze that way," Fiona teases me.

Me. Miceli De Luca. Genovese underboss and all around badass. Is being teased about the frown freezing on my face by a teenager.

What the hell is happening to my life?

Thirty minutes later as Róise cuddles the biggest full size cat I have ever seen, I ask myself that question again.

"That's a lot of cat. You might as well get a dog."

Róise covers the cat's ears. "Don't listen to him. He doesn't mean it. No dog could replace you."

"It has to be at least three feet long."

"She must have some Maine Coon in her mix," Róise says like that's a good thing. "Did you see how beautiful her babies are?"

Of course I have. Róise insisted on making me hold both of the kittens still left from the litter. Neither liked it any more than I did.

They must have sensed my antipathy. Or it was the scent of gun oil.

"Which of the kittens are you going to take?" I can hope that the offspring will not match the mother in size.

The kittens are curled together in a ball near Fiona's knee. She's sitting cross legged on the floor, rhythmically petting a skeletally thin full size cat.

"Rambo likes you. He's usually really skittish. He survived getting hit by the ricochet from a shooting, but he doesn't like most people and we can't get him to eat." The look the shelter worker gives the cat is filled with sadness. "It's too bad."

"Why too bad?" Róise asks sharply.

"The I.V.s the vet has to give him to get some nutrients in him won't sustain Rambo forever."

Fiona looks up frowning. "Can I try?"

"If you want, but don't be surprised if he refuses the food. It's not personal. Rambo doesn't trust anybody."

The giant fluffball Róise was holding is now following her like a dog, as she walks over to her cousin.

She has gotten some dry cat food from somewhere and she drops the nuggets into Fiona's hand. "Try with this, Fi."

The pathetic looking animal sniffs suspiciously at the food before starting to eat. He finishes everything in Fiona's hand and meows for more.

The shelter worker comes back from wherever she disappeared to.

She offers a small bowl of what looks like gruel to the teenager. "Here. See if you can get him to eat this too. It's nutrient dense and better for his stomach right now."

Of course, the cat eats the gruel. Because the quest to adopt two kittens has morphed into the two mob princesses bonding with the two least likely cats in the whole damn shelter.

Cazzo.

There is no leaving the kittens to be adopted by someone else either.

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