Page 22 of Carnival Master

I swallow, our faces mere inches apart. “Let go of me, and I might consider it.”

My wrist tingles where Tyson’s grip held me moments ago. I rub it, missing his touch despite my anger.

“Fine. At least tell me where we’re going for this date you’ve arranged without my consent.”

His lips curve into that infuriating smirk. “It’s a surprise.”

I cross my arms, glancing down at my yoga pants and oversized sweater. “I need to change first. I’m not dressed for?—”

“You’re perfect exactly as you are.” His eyes rake over my simple oversized lounge dress, setting my skin on fire. “Besides, you won’t need those clothes for long anyway.”

Heat floods my cheeks. The sheer audacity of this man! “You’re unbelievable. Do you really think that cocky attitude works on women?”

“Seems to be working on you.” He moves toward the door, clearly expecting me to follow. “Coming?”

I huff, grabbing my purse from the counter. “You’re the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.”

“And yet here you are, following me anyway.” His deep chuckle only fuels my irritation as he leads me out of my house.

“I could still pepper spray you, you know.”

“But you won’t.” He holds the door open. “After you, baby girl.”

I slide into the passenger seat of Tyson’s sleek blackMustang, my heart hammering against my ribs. Like everything else about this dangerous man beside me, the leather seats smell so good.

What am I doing?

Every rational part of my brain screams that I should run far away from this carnival ringmaster with his piercing dark eyes and wicked smile. He’s broken into my house, hacked my computer, watched me through my webcam—and yet here I am, willingly getting into his car.

My father would kill me if he knew, and Paulie would do, too. I’m supposed to be the good daughter, following the path laid out for me since birth—marry into the right family, maintain the connections, keep the business strong. Instead, I’m letting this man—this absolutely infuriating, intoxicating man—lead me down a path that can only end in disaster.

The engine purrs to life, and Tyson’s hand brushes my thigh as he shifts gears. Even that slight touch sends electricity through my body. God, what is wrong with me? He’s everything I should avoid—unpredictable, controlling, dangerous.

But there’s something in the way he looks at me like he sees past the mob princess facade to the real me underneath.

I know he’s going to be my downfall. This wild attraction, this magnetic pull between us, will destroy everything I’ve been raised to be. But as I watch his strong hands grip the steering wheel, remember the heat of his body pressing mine against the kitchen counter, Irealize I don’t care. For once, I want to choose my own path, even if it leads straight to hell.

And something tells me that’s exactly where the ringmaster plans to take me.

13

TYSON

When I pull up at the carnival, I glance at Sofia to see her nose wrinkling in disgust. “What’s wrong? Is it not fancy enough for you?”

“Why are we here?” She crosses her arms, green eyes flashing with defiance.

“We’re here because I want to show you how a real man treats your clit.”

She gasps, and her cheeks flush a deep pink.

I open the door to my Mustang. “But first, dinner. Can’t have you going hungry. And you’ll need a lot of energy for what I have planned.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrow arches. “Dinner? Here?” She glances at the carnival entrance with disdain. “I usually dine at Michelin-starred restaurants.”

“Tonight, you’re getting the authentic carnival experience.” I climb out of the Mustang and walk around to open her door.

She reluctantly takes my hand, and I guide her through the carnival entrance, my hand restingpossessively on the small of her back. Her discomfort at being here amuses me—the mob princess is so far out of her element.

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