Page 185 of Rose
The word “done” burned in her chest. Physically, she was done. She had to be. But her heart was waging war with itself—fighting to let go of the man who had shattered her while still clinging to the pieces he’d once made her feel whole with.
“Yes.” She forced it out, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. “I’m done with Savior.”
William’s lips curved into a smile. His phone dinged.
She tried to glance at the screen without moving too much, but from her angle she couldn’t see. Whatever it was, she knew it meant he was leaving again.
“I love you, Beautiful,” he said, watching her closely.
“I love you too,” she answered, taking another bite just so she didn’t have to hold his gaze too long.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. She wanted to ask where he was going, but she already knew she’d get nothing but smoke and deflection.
“I’ll be back later. Ahzii—”
“I know,” she cut in softly. “Don’t leave.”
He nodded, smiling like the words were a promise he actually intended to keep.
But when the door shut behind him, relief never came. Excitement never came. Happiness never came. Instead, the walls of the beach house seemed to close in around her, and she realized it wasn’t a safe haven at all, it was a prison.
???
Savior stepped into the bar, the slow pulse of old-school music wrapping around the room like smoke. Dim lighting cast everything in warm shadows, a stark contrast to the gold and orange spill of the setting sun outside. His black Timbs moved in measured strides, each step silent but deliberate, eyes cutting across the space as he clocked every exit, every corner, every face worth remembering.
The place was made for an older crowd—thick with the scent of dark liquor and cigar smoke, the air vibrating with Marvin Gaye and Al Green. Couples and old friends nursed drinks at scattered tables, laughter and low conversation mixing with the faint clack of pool balls in the back. But Savior wasn’t here for nostalgia or small talk. He was here for business.
Cain had called, claiming new intel on Lazarus, and told him to meet here. No sign of him yet. Savior slid onto a stool at the bar, figuring traffic was to blame. Miami was hectic today, a blackout knocking out half the city and slowing everything to a crawl.
The wait gave him too much time to think, too much time to pick at the raw wound that was Ahzii. He pulled out his phone, firing off another message even though he already knew the answer would be the same as the last hundred. Nothing.
A’Mazi had echoed her words exactly, she needed space. And Savior had given it to her, tried to respect it, but his patience was wearing thin. If Cain hadn’t called, he would’ve already been at Bianca’s house, ready to look her in the eye and get his answers.
Sleep had been a stranger. Business wasn’t enough to keep his mind from circling her. After finding out she was Jane Doe, the urge to go to her, to explain before she discovered it on her own, had nearly consumed him. But he’d trusted Sincere to tell her the truth like he promised. God, he prayed it wouldn’t be the nail in their coffin—that she could somehow forgive them both.
He’d sent her a hundred roses, a giant bear, and a handwritten letter to her mother’s house. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. When he called to confirm, his number was still blocked. That stung more than he wanted to admit.
And beneath all the possibilities, one thought kept clawing at him, maybe she already knew. Maybe she’d put it together that she was Jane Doe… and that his family had been hired to carry out the mission that destroyed her life.
The idea made his heart pound hard enough to hurt. Nothing else in this life had ever shaken him like this. But losing Ahzii? That would break him beyond repair.
“Hey, handsome. I’ve never seen you here before.”
Savior glanced up from his phone at a woman who looked around his mother’s age, maybe younger if you factored in the dim lighting and her warm smile.
“That’s because I’ve never been here before,” he replied dry, but respectful enough not to kill the conversation.
“Well, what can I get you? We’ve got the best wings in the city and the strongest drinks if I’m making ’em.”
“Just water,” he said, eyes already sliding back to his phone. The messages from Ahzii stared back at him, unanswered, like a wound refusing to heal. He swiped through them again, as if staring hard enough might summon the three little dots.
Katherine, the bartender, set his glass down and caught a glimpse of his screen; the bar’s counter was too small to hide it. “You know staring at the message isn’t gonna make those dots appear,” she said, handing him the water.
Normally, Savior would have shut down anyone poking into his business. But she wasn’t a threat, just a bartender trying to make conversation.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he muttered, locking the screen. Business. He needed to focus on business, no matter how much his mind kept drifting back to her.
“Khaos.”
