Page 43 of Carnival Master

“I won’t end up like Mom,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “I won’t let this life destroy me too.”

Something flickers in his eyes for a moment—pain, regret maybe—but it’s gone so fast I might have imagined it. The mask of the mob boss slides back into place, and my daddy disappears completely.

He grabs my arm forcefully. “This foolishness ends here.”

“I won’t marry him!” I try to wrench my arm away from Dad’s grip. “You can’t force me!”

“The hell I can’t.” Dad grabs me again, his fingersdigging into my flesh. “I’ve given you everything. This is how you repay me?”

“By being honest?” I try to pull away again. “By telling you what I want?”

“What you want?” He laughs humourlessly. “You’re my daughter. Everything you are belongs to me.”

“No!” I slam my fist against his chest. “I’m not your property!”

Dad drags me across the study, my heels scraping against the hardwood floor. I fight him every step down the hallway to my childhood bedroom, but his grip is iron. Once we reach the door, he grabs my cell phone from my jeans pocket and pushes me inside.

“You’ll stay here until you remember who you are. Until you come to your senses.”

I rush for the door, but he slams it shut. The lock clicks.

“Daddy, please!” I pound my fists against the wood. “Don’t do this!”

He ignores my pleas. Through my tears, I hear him pull out his phone and dial.

“Paulie? Yeah, we’ve got a problem.” Dad’s voice carries through the door. “That carnival trash has been sniffing around my daughter and your fiancée... Yeah, the ringmaster... Tyson.”

“No!” I slam harder against the door. “Daddy, stop!”

“Handle it,” Dad continues. “Make him disappear. Permanently.”

I slide down the door, my sobs wracking my body. “Please don’t hurt him! Please!”

“Keep it clean,” Dad says into the phone. “No traces.”

My screams echo through the room as I hear Dad’s footsteps fade away down the hall, leaving me locked in my gilded prison. At the same time, he orders the death of the only man who’s ever made me feel truly alive.

23

TYSON

The stench of blood still clings to my nostrils, even after changing. My phone sits silent on the desk, mocking me with its blank screen. No messages from Sofia.

“Fuck!” I slam my fist into the wall. The pain grounds me, but barely.

How did Paulie find out? The question circles my mind like a vulture. Sofia wouldn’t have told him. Would she? No. She hates that abusive piece of shit as much as I do.

I grab my phone again and type another message:

Baby girl, please. Just let me know you’re safe.

Nothing.

I’m hunched over my desk, staring at spreadsheets that might as well be written in Sanskrit, when Phoenix raps on my door.

“Come in.”

He slips inside, laptop tucked under his arm. Dark circles shadow his eyes, suggesting he’s been up all night working.

---