Page 45 of Carnival Master

“And I’ve had Tilly for over a month now. Nothing can tame it.” Phoenix’s voice drips with satisfaction. “Even when she’s yours, you’ll still be driven mad by it.”

“I need some fucking air,” I growl, pushing away from the desk. The metal legs screech against the floor as I storm toward the door.

Phoenix’s amused chuckles follow me out of the trailer, making my hands clench into fists. The sound echoes in my ears as I march across the carnival grounds, past the silent rides and empty food stalls.

I slump against the side of my trailer, lighting a cigarette with trembling hands despite quitting two years ago. I’m too stressed right now, but the nicotine does nothing to calm my racing thoughts.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never lost control like this over a woman. I’ve had my share of conquests—carnival groupies and local girls looking for a thrill. One night, maybe two, if they were particularly skilled. But never this... this constant ache.

Sofia’s got under my skin in ways I can’t explain. Her curves, her sass, the way she challenges me instead of just falling at my feet like the others. Even now, I can feel the phantom touch of her soft skin against mine, taste the sweetness of her lips.

“Fuck.” I take another long drag, watching the smoke curl into the night air.

The smart move would be to let her go. Cut ties and focus on business. Jimmy Moretti’s wrath isn’t something to take lightly, and I’ve got the whole carnival operation to consider. My crew depends on me to keep things running smoothly.

But the thought of never seeing her again, neverholding her, tears at something deep in my chest—something I didn’t even know existed until she walked into my life.

Phoenix is right. I’m acting just like him with Tilly. Obsessed. Unhinged. The kind of man I swore I’d never become. Love makes you weak, makes you vulnerable. I learned that lesson watching my old man destroy himself over my mother.

I take another drag of my cigarette, memories of my old man flooding back. That pathetic shell of a man drowning himself in whiskey after my mother left. I was twelve when she packed her bags, leaving nothing but her wedding ring on the kitchen counter.

“She’ll come back,” he’d slur, night after night. “Your mother loves us. She’s just... confused.”

Bullshit. Mom wasn’t confused. She was tired of his weakness, his desperate need for her. I watched him waste away, calling her number until it was disconnected, driving past her sister’s house, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

He put his fist through the wall the day we got the news she’d remarried. I still remember the blood dripping from his knuckles as he sobbed on the kitchen floor. That was the moment I swore I’d never let a woman have that kind of power over me.

“Love is a fucking poison, son,” he told me that night, his eyes glazed from the bourbon. “It gets in your blood, makes you forget who you are. Makes you weak.”

He was right about one thing—it is a poison. I can feel it coursing through my veins whenever I think about Sofia. But he was wrong about the weakness part. Thisthing with Sofia... it’s not making me weak. It’s making me dangerous. Making me willing to burn everything down just to keep her.

My old man died alone in that house, still wearing his wedding ring, still keeping her picture on his nightstand. The doctors called it liver failure, but I know what really killed him. He let love destroy him, let it eat away at his soul until there was nothing left.

Yet here I am, ready to risk everything, my business, my freedom, maybe even my life—just to keep Sofia safe. To make her mine.

I crush the cigarette under my boot, disgust rising in my throat. When did I become this pathetic? This desperate?

The night offers no answers, just the distant sound of carnival music and my tortured thoughts.

24

SOFIA

Ijolt awake, my heart racing. Tyson's deep voice echoes in my ears, but that's impossible. Dad's locked me in my childhood bedroom like some fairytale princess. I rub my eyes, trying to shake off the lingering dream.

A faint blue glow catches my attention. My old iMac sits on the desk, its screen illuminating the darkness. My breath catches when I see Tyson's face filling the screen.

"Baby girl," his voice comes through clear as day.

I leap out of bed, not caring that I only wear a black lace bra and matching panties. The wooden floor is cold under my bare feet as I rush to the desk.

"Tyson? How did you?—"

"Phoenix hacked your old computer. Are you okay? Has your father hurt you?"

His concern warms my chest. I lean closer to the screen, drinking in the sight of him. Even through the pixelated video, his presence makes my skin tingle with awareness.

"I'm fine. Just locked up until I 'come to my senses' about marrying Paulie." I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly aware of how naked I am. "Dad's men are everywhere. There's no way out."

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