12. Sofia

12

SOFIA

I ’m curled up on my couch with a book when a sharp knock echoes through my house. The clock reads six. My stomach churns because I’m not expecting anyone.

I spot a burly man in dark clothes standing on my porch through the peephole. Against my better judgment, I crack open the door, keeping the chain lock in place.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick you up.” His gruff voice matches his appearance.

“What?”

His jaw clenches. “I’ve got orders to collect you and take you to a location.”

“Take me where exactly?” My fingers grip the door frame.

“It’s a surprise.” A smirk plays across his face. “Boss’s orders. ”

My jaw clenches. “If Paulie sent you, you can tell him I’m not interested in his surprises.”

The man shakes his head. “Not Paulie. Tyson clarified that you might protest, but I should bring you anyway.”

Ice floods my veins at the mention of Tyson’s name. That arrogant ringmaster thinks he can just summon me whenever he wants?

“Well, you can tell Tyson I’m not some puppet he can control. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, this isn’t a request.” He places his foot in the doorway before I can slam it shut. “The boss was very specific about not taking no for an answer.”

My hand trembles as I grab the pepper spray from the console table. The guy pushes against my door, the chain straining.

“Last warning. Back off!”

The chain snaps. As he barrels through, I squeeze, and the spray hits him square in the face.

“You fucking bitch!” He stumbles backward, hands covering his eyes. His massive frame crashes into my coat rack. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Red-faced and cursing, he fumbles for his phone. Tears stream down his cheeks as he struggles to see the screen.

“Boss? Yeah, she just fucking maced me. I can’t see shit, let alone drive.” His voice comes out raw, like he’s been gargling glass. “No, I’m not kidding. My eyes are on fire. ”

He thrusts the phone toward me, still doubled over. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Tell him I said go to hell.” I keep the pepper spray aimed at him, backing toward my kitchen where I can grab a knife if needed.

“She won’t take the phone,” he chokes between coughs. “What do you want me to do?”

I hear Tyson’s muffled voice through the speaker but can’t distinguish the words. The guy nods, wincing as he wipes at his streaming eyes.

“Leave before I call the cops.” I keep my pepper spray trained on the intruder, my other hand gripping my phone.

He swipes at his red, swollen eyes and lets out a dark chuckle. “You’ve made a big mistake, sweetheart. We’ll wait.”

My heart pounds against my ribs as I back further into my kitchen. The guy leans against my wall, still rubbing his face but wearing a knowing smirk that makes my skin crawl.

Ten minutes pass in tense silence. The deep rumble of a classic engine outside makes me tense up. Heavy footsteps approach my front door.

Tyson strides in like he owns the place, his jaw tight and eyes blazing. His presence fills my living room, making it feel smaller somehow. The carnival costume is gone—he’s wearing dark jeans and a black T-shirt that stretches across his broad chest.

“Wait outside,” he commands his guy without looking at him .

The man shuffles past, still wiping at his streaming eyes. “Boss, she?—”

“I said outside.” Tyson’s voice carries an edge that makes me flinch.

Tyson turns those intense eyes on me when the door clicks shut behind his man. I grip my pepper spray tighter, though something tells me he won’t be as easy to take down.

“What the hell, Sofia? I send a car to pick you up, and you pepper spray the driver? Are you crazy?”

I straighten, meeting his fierce gaze with as much defiance as possible. “You expect me to get in a car with some thug you send? I don’t know you, yet you assume I’ll come running?”

Tyson advances, stalking toward me like I’m prey. “I saved your life, and this is the thanks I get? You could’ve at least heard me out.”

My shoulders tense, his nearness sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“No?” His eyes narrow. “That’s not what I heard. Last I checked, Jimmy Moretti owed me a favor. And from the looks of it, he didn’t do shit to pay me back, so maybe I’ll just take payment from his daughter.”

I scoff, feeling a surge of anger. “My father doesn’t own me, and neither do you.”

His gaze darkens as he takes another step forward, backing me against the counter. “Maybe I don’t want him to owe me anymore.” His voice drops to a dangerous murmur. “Maybe I want to collect what’s owed from you instead. ”

A shiver runs through me, this man daring to threaten me in my own home. “And what, exactly, would that entail?”

His eyes flicker over me, an unspoken challenge in his expression. “I think we both know what I want from you.”

I hold his intense gaze, refusing to let him see how he affects me. “Well, I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “You sure about that? Your body tells a different story.”

My cheeks flame at the intimate nickname. “That’s none of your business.”

His hand darts out, pinning my wrist against the counter. His thumb brushes the inside of my wrist, sending a wave of heat through me. “Maybe I want to make it my business.”

My breath hitches at his touch, my body betraying my resolve.

“You broke into my house uninvited,” I whisper, pulling against his iron grip. “Let me go.”

“Only because you weren’t answering my calls or texts.” His thumb strokes my pulse. His hold is unyielding. “If you weren’t interested, why did you respond to my messages initially?”

I refuse to answer, knowing he’s right. My gaze falls to his mouth, those perfect lips I’ve fantasized about since our first kiss. My body betrays the fear in my heart, responding to his closeness, the pressure of his touch.

His eyes darken at my silence. “Say it, Sofia. Tell me you want me too. ”

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 black Mustang, 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, I realize 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.