Page 52 of Carnival Master

“Everything. A real life. A future.” I swallow hard. “Love.”

The word hangs between us, heavy with meaning. I’ve spent years building walls, protecting myself from this vulnerability. But Sofia walked right through them like they were nothing.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel. Jimmy’s surrender came too easy. A man like him doesn’t just roll over and accept defeat, especially not when it comes to his only daughter. He’ll be plotting his revenge right now, probably already making calls to his connections across the state.

The carnival gives us mobility since we can pack up and move within hours. But it also makes us visible because it’s hard to hide a whole damn circus. I’ll need to get Phoenix to strengthen our digital security and maybe set up some false trails. Lars and the boys will have to increase security, and we’ll need extra muscle for the shows. Can’t risk Jimmy’s men slipping in among the crowds.

He might try to hurt Sofia to get to me or target my operation to cripple our income. Hell, he might even try to expose our drug running to the feds just to watch everything burn. Fifteen years of building this empire, and now it’s all balanced on a knife’s edge because I couldn’t stay away from his daughter.

But looking at her now, I know I’d risk it all again. We’ll need to be ready, though. Every exit route needs to be planned and every contingency covered. Jimmy Moretti didn’t become the most powerful man inDawsbury by letting people walk all over him. When he strikes back—and he will strike back—it’ll be with everything he’s got.

27

SOFIA

Ifold another sweater, one of my favorites, and add it to the small pile of clothes. The rest—countless designer dresses and gowns worth more than some people’s yearly salary—hang pristine in my walk-in closet. I won’t need them anymore.

“You sure about leaving all this behind?” Ty leans against my bedroom doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

“These weren’t me.” I run my fingers over a beaded Valentino gown. “They symbolize what Dad wanted me to be—the perfect mob princess.”

My hands shake as I pack my grandmother’s silver locket and a few cherished photos. The rest of the jewelry can stay—blood money transformed into diamonds and gold.

“Besides,” I gesture at the massive closet, “your trailer would burst if I tried bringing all this.”

Ty’s eyes follow me as I move around the room,selecting only what matters. Each item I choose feels like breaking another chain that kept me bound to this life. No more charity galas where I’m paraded around like a prized horse. No more stuffy dinners with Dad’s associates eyeing me like merchandise.

“Just need the essentials.” I toss my favorite jeans and t-shirts into the duffle bag. “And you.”

My heart feels lighter with each piece I leave behind. The designer bags, the stilettos that pinched my feet, the shapewear that made me feel like I was suffocating—they can all stay here with the rest of my old life.

“You’re different than the others, you know that?” Ty pushes off the doorframe and walks over to me. “Most women would be crying about leaving all this luxury behind.”

I zip up my bag of belongings. “This was never a luxury to me. It was a cage.”

“Though you sure acted prissy about our food on our first date.” Ty’s lips quirk up in that knowing smirk. “What was it you said? ‘I wouldn’t be caught dead eating that greasy carnival trash?’”

Heat floods my cheeks as I remember my snobbish behavior. “God, I was awful, wasn’t I?”

“You looked at that corndog like it might bite you first.”

“Old habits.” I shake my head, remembering how I’d held that corndog between two fingers like it was radioactive. “Dad drilled it into me since I could walk. Only the finest restaurants, only the most expensive meals. Heaven forbid anyone see Jimmy Moretti’s daughter eating street food.”

“And now?” He probes

“That corndog was better than half the overpriced meals I’ve had.” I zip up another section of my bag. “Do you know how many fancy dinner parties I sat through, pushing around thousand-dollar plates of food that tasted like nothing? All because Dad said those were the ‘right’ places to be seen.”

“Sounds miserable.”

“It was. Every bite came with rules. Elbows off the table, small portions, never show too much enthusiasm. God forbid I enjoy my food—it might make me look uncouth.” I mimic my father’s stern tone on the last word. “Even Paulie got in on it. Always watching what I ate, making comments about my weight.”

Tyson’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing with rage, but he keeps listening to me.

“But that first bite of carnival food?” I smile at the memory. “It felt like freedom. Even if my knee-jerk reaction was to turn my nose up at it.”

Ty pulls me against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around my waist. The familiar scent of leather and musk surrounds me, and I melt into his embrace.

“You’re free now. Free to be whoever you want to be.” His voice rumbles through his chest. “Though maybe you’ve just traded one cage for another. I’m never letting you go.”

---