Page 20 of Carnival Master

I stride from Frank’s office, my boots echoing down the marble hallway. The tension in my shoulders eases with each step – nothing like putting an entitled prick in his place.

Behind me, Frank mutters something under hisbreath. Probably cursing my name, but I couldn’t care less. He got the message.

My black Mustang gleams in the afternoon sun as I slide behind the wheel. Turning the key in the ignition and revving the engine, I peel out of the parking lot, leaving rubber on the pavement. Let Frank stew over that, too.

My mind drifts to Sofia as I navigate through downtown Dawsbury. Those curves, that fiery red hair, how she tries to resist me but can’t help herself. The memory of her touching herself while watching my photo makes my cock twitch.

Tonight can’t come soon enough. I’ve got plans for my baby girl—I’m gonna make her scream my name until her throat’s raw. Even if she’s completely unaware, we’ve got a date. I’ve arranged a car to pick her up for the best night of her life.

The carnival comes into view, the Ferris wheel rising above the trees. Time to handle business before pleasure. But damn, if I’m not counting down the hours until I get my hands on Sofia.

I park behind my trailer, adjusting myself in my jeans. The memory of her moans against my mouth as I kissed her has me hard as steel.

Focus, Tyson. Work first, then play.

12

SOFIA

I’m curled up on my couch with a book when a sharp knock echoes through my house. The clock reads six. My stomach churns because I’m not expecting anyone.

I spot a burly man in dark clothes standing on my porch through the peephole. Against my better judgment, I crack open the door, keeping the chain lock in place.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick you up.” His gruff voice matches his appearance.

“What?”

His jaw clenches. “I’ve got orders to collect you and take you to a location.”

“Take me where exactly?” My fingers grip the door frame.

“It’s a surprise.” A smirk plays across his face. “Boss’s orders.”

My jaw clenches. “If Paulie sent you, you can tell him I’m not interested in his surprises.”

The man shakes his head. “Not Paulie. Tyson clarified that you might protest, but I should bring you anyway.”

Ice floods my veins at the mention of Tyson’s name. That arrogant ringmaster thinks he can just summon me whenever he wants?

“Well, you can tell Tyson I’m not some puppet he can control. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, this isn’t a request.” He places his foot in the doorway before I can slam it shut. “The boss was very specific about not taking no for an answer.”

My hand trembles as I grab the pepper spray from the console table. The guy pushes against my door, the chain straining.

“Last warning. Back off!”

The chain snaps. As he barrels through, I squeeze, and the spray hits him square in the face.

“You fucking bitch!” He stumbles backward, hands covering his eyes. His massive frame crashes into my coat rack. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Red-faced and cursing, he fumbles for his phone. Tears stream down his cheeks as he struggles to see the screen.

“Boss? Yeah, she just fucking maced me. I can’t see shit, let alone drive.” His voice comes out raw, like he’s been gargling glass. “No, I’m not kidding. My eyes are on fire.”

He thrusts the phone toward me, still doubled over. “He wants to talk to you.”

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