The instant Violet stepped into her dormitory, a boom of confetti exploded above her, causing tiny, colorful specks to fall over her and Kitten Roman like a victorious rain.
"Congratulations, Violet! You’re a rich woman!" Lila hollered with uncontainable glee, already diving into a large bag overflowing with crisp Cede notes. She scooped up a handful and tossed it into the air, letting the money flutter down in slow, tantalizing swirls.
For a long second, Violet simply stood there, watching as actual money danced through the air before settling at her feet. Money she could have never dread of making so quickly in her entire life.
The sight was just so breathtaking that a slow, smug smile curved her lips. A kingdom of wealth built in a single afternoon. She was beginning to love this school.
Lila, drunk on the euphoria of success, continued her ridiculous display, tossing notes in the air like she was so eccentric billionaire making it rain at a private gala.
"We did it, Violet! You absolutely fleeced them. I’m so proud of you!."
Violet let out a pleased hum. Oh, she had fleeced them alright.
For the scholarship students and lower-inco crowd, Violet had been kind enough to charge them five Cede per session for a humble two-minute interaction with Kitten Roman, taking as many photos and videos as their devices could hold.
Two minutes was more than enough, but if they wanted more? That was when extra charges applied. She was fair, but she was also a businesswoman.
For the elites and the rich non-elite students with little sense, Violet had played to their egos. She had upped the charge to fifty Cede for a five-minute session.
It was daylight robbery. Yes. And yet they had paid without hesitation.
Why?
No one wanted to appear cheap in front of their peers, especially not in front of the scholarship students. Falling below the expectations was as good as a social death sentence. The irony was almost poetic.
But the true masterpiece of Violet’s sche was the VIP section.
She had leveraged the school’s obsessive hierarchy, creating an exclusive space in the closed-off green garden where the privileged could lounge on plush sofas, bean bags, and carefully placed seating while sipping wine — contributed by Natalie. Bless her.
They were served in flutes, giving the illusion of luxury, while an assortnt of snacks were laid out. For an exclusive fan service from Kitten Roman, Violet had set the price at two hundred Cede per person.
And what had they done? They paid imdiately without even blinking a single eye at the cost.
The elites lived to throw their money at anything that made them look privileged, and Violet had capitalized on it like the entrepreneur she was born to be.
Not to ntion, she was the purple storm, the famous mber of the elite, as well as Alaric Storm’s girlfriend. At this point, she was already a cardinal queen.
At this point, If Violet were to bottle air and label it Cardinal Alpha’s Blessed Breath, she had no doubt they’d probably buy it for a thousand Cede each.
For the first ti, Violet realized just how powerful connections were. Money was good, but it wasn’t enough. The true currency here was status. And today, she wielded it like a weapon. And it had worked — it felt good as well.
However, Violet knew she couldn’t afford to get too carried away with this power though. The hierarchy only favored a select few, and she wasn’t about to lose herself in the privileges that ca with it.
Ivy had been in charge of keeping track of their earnings throughout the whole event. Though Violet was dying to know the exact total, she had already made peace with the fact that she had secured enough to cover her expenses for the entire sester.
The students who had helped with the event had been compensated, well, the scholarship students, anyway. The rich ones had refused her paynt, finding it borderline insulting.
They had helped her because they wanted to, even calling it an honor to assist the purple storm in her first event.
Violet had to bite back laughter at the absurdity of it. They practically thought she was royalty now
As much as Violet wanted to bask in her financial success, her attention drifted to the kitten still nestled against her chest.
Kitten Roman was... filthy.
His once vibrant green fur was now matted with traces of lipstick, sared foundation, and unidentifiable smudges from too many hands. His tail drooped, and even his little ears sagged from exhaustion.
Roman had worked today. Three hours of being passed around like a sacred relic, kissed, groped, and aggressively cuddled by students who had probably fantasized about doing the sa to him in his human form. That was scary now she thought about it.
In one word, Roman had suffered for her wealth, and while Violet had little sympathy for a cardinal alpha who usually strutted through life getting everything he wanted, she wasn’t heartless.
Roman had pulled through for her.
Now, it was ti to return the favor.
Before Lila, Daisy, or Ivy could rope her into breaking down the event’s total earnings, Violet marched straight to the bathroom with him.
The sun was setting, but Roman had yet to shift back. That’s when it hit her that he had said ’before the party’ , but he hadn’t specified ’when before the party’ . Not that she was complaining.
Violet was still thrilled over the money she had made to be pissed over the convenient missing details. He still needed to bathe after all because there was no way she was letting his green-furred ass climb into her bed looking like that.
Violet shut the door behind her and turned on the sink faucet, letting the water run until it was a comfortable temperature, then shifted her attention back to the cat in her arm.
Violet exhaled. "I’m about to wash you. I can’t let you return to my bed like this."
Kitten Roman barely reacted. He opened one erald-green eye, regarded her with what looked like indifference, and then promptly shut it again, as if to say, "Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore."
Violet tried not to think too hard about the fact that she was about to bathe Roman Draven, cardinal alpha, infamous playboy, in cat form.
Nope. This was just a cat. She told herself.
With careful fingers, Violet undid the tiny tuxedo that had once looked adorable but was now wrinkled and stained. The cat-sized sunglasses clattered to the side as she placed them on the counter, and just as she reached for Roman, he owed softly, low and rumbly.
Violet squinted at him because that ow sounded so suggestive?
No, she shook her head. There was no way a grown-ass man in cat form enjoyed being undressed by a woman.
But Kitten Roman purred as if to mock her.
Blushing furiously, Violet quickly but carefully lowered him into the water, half-expecting him to hiss, scratch, or, at the very least, struggle. Instead, Roman let out a deep sigh, stretching his little limbs like a spoiled prince being pampered in a royal bath.
Violet huffed. Unbelievable.
But then, it was bath ti.
Violet picked up her lavender-scented shampoo, because she did not have a musky male body wash. Not to ntion, one made for cats. Roman would simply have to make do with this one.
She worked the suds into his fur, her fingers massaging gently. Roman’s ears twitched slightly at the sensation, but when she reached his shoulders—
Purr.
Violet’s hands stilled.
Did he just...?
She tested it again, this ti rubbing the area behind his ears.
Roman purred louder.
She could feel his satisfaction vibrating through his tiny form, heat rushing to her cheeks.
No, this was fine. Totally fine. It’s just a cat appreciating her service.
It wasn’t until she reached his belly and Roman’s purring spiked, a small, involuntary shudder ran down his feline form that Violet froze.
Why did it feel like she was touching places she would never dare touch in his human form?
As if that was enough, her mind ford an image of Roman lounging in his human form, green eyes gleaming with mischief as he purred, "Keep going, sweetheart."
Violet yanked her hand back as if she had been electrocuted.
Nope. Nope. Nope. She was so not doing this.
Quickly, Violet rinsed him off, ignoring the way his tiny, smug tail flicked against her wrist asking for her attention.
Finally, she wrapped him in her towel, holding him against her chest as she dried him off.
"There," she muttered, pulling back to examine her work.
Kitten Roman’s fur was soft, gleaming, and scented lightly with lavender. He slled clean—and, dare she say, like her.
Roman cracked open one eye again, this ti looking up at her, then promptly closed it with a sigh of utter contentnt.
"Yes, I’m sure you enjoyed that," Violet
snarked as she carried him back to the dormitory, wrapped up like so royal prince after a bath.
She was so not doing this again.
User Comments
0 comments from readers