Page 40 of Carnival Master

But Tyson? He sees me as an equal. Yes, he’s intense. Yes, his pursuit of me bordered on obsessive. But he’s never once tried to change me or cage me. He wants me exactly as I am—curves and attitude.

“Maybe I am strong enough,” I whisper, leaning into his touch. “I’ve never had anyone believe in me like this before.”

His eyes darken with something fierce and protective but not suffocating like Dad’s protection. This feels like having someone at my back, supporting me, not trying to direct my path.

“Then believe in yourself like I believe in you. You’re not just Jimmy Moretti’s daughter or Paulie’s fiancée. You’re Sofia. And that’s more than enough.”

I stand up from the bed, letting the sheet fall away as I gather my clothes. My hands are steady as I slip my dress back on, no longer feeling the shame or uncertainty from before.

“I’m done living by everyone else’s rules,” I say, turning to face Tyson. “Done letting Dad control my life, done letting Paulie tear me down. I’m taking back control.”

Tyson watches me from the bed, a mix of pride and desire in his eyes. “That’s my girl.”

“I mean it.” I smooth my dress, checking my reflection in his small trailer mirror. “I’m going to tell Dad I won’t marry Paulie. I don’t care about the business alliance or his other reasons. It’s my life.”

“Come here,” Tyson beckons me over. When I reachhim, he pulls me down for a kiss that makes my toes curl. His lips are firm against mine, possessive but not controlling. When we break apart, he rests his forehead against mine. “Show them who you really are, baby girl.”

I grab my purse and phone, squaring my shoulders. “I will. No more perfect daughter act. No more letting them decide my future.”

Tyson’s kiss still burns on my lips as I head for the trailer door. My heart pounds, but not from fear – from excitement. For the first time in my life, I feel truly powerful, truly in control.

21

TYSON

Lars bursts through the door without knocking while I’m hunched over paperwork in my trailer. My head snaps up, ready to tear into him for the interruption, but the look on his face stops me cold.

“Boss, we got trouble. Paulie’s here, causing a scene by the main tent.”

My blood runs ice-cold. Sofia left this morning with fire in her eyes, talking about taking control of her life. Did she go straight to that piece of shit and tell him about us?

“What kind of scene?” I rise from my chair, already reaching for my jacket.

“He’s throwing shit around, demanding to see you.” Lars blocks the doorway. “You want me to handle it?”

“No.” My jaw clenches. “I’ll deal with this myself.”

My mind races through the possibilities. If Sofia told him everything, this could blow up our whole operation. Jimmy Moretti finding out I’ve fucked his daughter—hisengaged daughter—could destroy everything we’ve built. And yet, I don’t care. All I care about is Sofia taking back control of her own fucking life.

“Get Nash and Colt to clear the area,” I order Lars as I check my phone and find Sofia still hasn’t replied to my earlier message. “Keep the civilians away. The last thing we need is witnesses if this goes south.”

Lars nods and disappears. I take a deep breath, steadying myself. The memory of Sofia in my bed this morning, her red hair spread across my pillow, her curves pressed against me—I push it aside. I need a clear head for whatever’s coming.

I step out of my trailer into the sun, heading toward the sound of breaking glass and shouting. Whatever Paulie knows or doesn’t know, I’m not letting him destroy what Sofia and I have started. She’s mine now, whether he likes it or not.

I stalk toward the main tent, my hands already curling into fists. The familiar weight of my knife presses against my ankle, and for once, I don’t try to push down the darkness rising inside me.

Sofia is worth any price. Worth burning everything to the ground. Worth killing her piece of shit fiancé, worth taking down Jimmy himself if that’s what it takes. The thought should scare me—Jimmy Moretti isn’t someone you cross lightly. But all I feel is cold certainty.

I’ll risk my empire, my freedom, and my life because the alternative is letting her go, and that’s not happening—not now, not ever.

Movement catches my eye. Paulie spots me through the gathering crowd, his face twisted with rage. Heshoves past a couple of carnival workers, sending popcorn flying. His expensive suit is wrinkled, tie askew—he looks unhinged.

“You motherfucker!” He charges toward me like a bull, face red with fury.

Turning, I walk into the big top, needing to keep this private. Paulie follows me, and once inside, I turn to face him, letting a slow smile spread across my face. This is it, then. Whatever he knows, whatever Sofia told him—One way or another, Paulie won’t be a problem after today.

My fingers twitch to grab my gun at my waist, but I force them still. Not yet. Let him make the first move. Let him give me the excuse I need to end him.

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