Page 32 of Carnival Master

“Look at you. Can’t even fit in that dress properly anymore. You’re getting fatter.”

My fingers dig into my palms, nails biting deep enough to draw blood. The urge to burst through that window and wrap my hands around his throat burns through me.

“I’m not fat, Paulie. Stop it.”

“You’re a fat bitch, and you know it. Lucky I even look at you.”

A sharp crack echoes—he’s slammed his hand on something. Sofia’s sharp intake of breath has me halfway to my feet before I force myself back down.

I could do it. One quick move, and I’d be through that window. Three seconds to cross the room. Another two to snap his worthless neck. But then Jimmy wouldcome looking for answers, and Sofia would be caught in the crossfire.

“Maybe if you spent less time stuffing your face and more time at the gym...” His words continue to slice through the night air.

My jaw clenches so hard my teeth might crack. Every muscle screams to move, to act, to tear him apart for daring to speak to her like that. But I stay frozen, letting the rage build instead of explode.

I’ve killed before. Hell, I’ve tortured guys to death. But the things I want to do to Paulie right now? They would be more depraved. Slower. Messier. The kind of thing that would have cops swarming in search of a psychopathic killer. And I doubt Sofia could look at me after she witnessed my capacity for depravity.

I listen as Sofia’s voice rises, sharp with anger. “Get out, Paulie. Just get out.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that?” His footsteps thud across the floor. Something crashes—a vase, maybe.

“I said get out!”

“You ungrateful little—” His hand hitting something makes my blood boil. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”

The front door slams so hard that the window frame rattles. His expensive shoes click across the driveway, followed by the obnoxious roar of that ridiculous Lamborghini starting up. The engine revs several times—showing off like the insecure piece of shit he is—before the sound fades into the distance.

Sofia’s sobs drift through the window, soft and broken. Each one twists the knife in my chest. I waitanother thirty seconds to make sure Paulie isn’t coming back, then hoist myself through the open window with practiced ease.

She’s curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around her knees, tears streaming down her face. The sight of her crying over that worthless bastard makes me want to hunt him down.

“He’s not worth these tears.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide. “Tyson? How did you—” She swipes at her cheeks. “Were you outside this whole time?”

“Long enough to hear what that piece of shit said to you.” I cross the room and crouch in front of her. “And every word was a lie.”

I gently wipe the tears from her cheeks with my thumb, my heart aching at the sight of her pain. “Come here.”

Sofia hesitates for a moment before falling into my arms. I pull her close, breathing in the scent of her hair as she buries her face against my chest. Her body trembles with quiet sobs, and I stroke her back in soothing circles.

“That’s it,” I murmur. “Let it out. I’ve got you.”

Her fingers clutch at my shirt as the tears gradually slow. I press my lips to the top of her head, holding her until her breathing steadies.

“Look at me,” I whisper.

She tilts her face, those stunning green eyes still wet with tears. My thumb traces the curve of her cheek.

“You deserve so much better than this, Sofia. You deserve to be cherished. Treasured.”

Her lips part slightly, and I can’t resist any longer. I lean down and capture her mouth, pouring all my feelings into the kiss. She melts against me, her hands sliding up to my shoulders.

When we break apart, I rest my forehead against hers. “Let me show you how special you are. Let me worship every beautiful inch of you. Make you feel like the queen you are.”

A small smile tugs at her lips. “Ty...”

“I mean it.” I cup her face in my hands. “You’re perfect exactly as you are. Those curves drive me wild. Your strength, your fire—everything about you is fucking incredible. And I want to spend hours proving it to you.”

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