Page 1 of Rose

Ashes

“The night didn’t just burn her world—it buried the woman she used to be.”

Fire. Flames. Hell.

This is what dying felt like.

Ahzii’s world—once vibrant, once safe—was burning alive before her eyes, swallowed in smoke and screams. A home that once held laughter and love, now crumbling beneath the weight of betrayal and blood.

She could still feel them—their joy, their peace—her goofy, loving husband, the baby girl growing inside her, filling their walls with dreams. Gone.

All of it, gone in a single, brutal night.

Blood soaked the floor. His blood. Hers. Mixing together like a cruel reminder of the family they built, now shattered. She laid there, broken, the metallic sting of her wounds choking her breaths, as the heat pressed against her skin like the devil’s hand dragging her under.

How did it come to this?

A perfect life burned down to ashes.

Every gasp felt heavier, crueler, forcing her to cling to the fading fragments of who she was. Who they were. But the more she fought, the more death wrapped its cold fingers around her throat.

Tears blurred her vision as the flames danced mercilessly above her.

She was dying. And all she could do was wonder—

Why?

How did love turn into this?

How did my forever burn down in one night?

Seven Hours Before

The steady hum of a tattoo gun mixed with the soulful croon of R&B spilled from the speakers, filling the walls of her sanctuary.

Noon had barely hit, yet The Escape Room buzzed with life.

At twenty-nine, Ahzii had built more than just one of Miami’s hottest tattoo shops—she’d built an escape.

A place where pain became art, where stories were inked into skin, and where strangers found healing through the stroke of a needle and the rhythm of good vibes.

She wasn’t just a tattoo artist. She was Rose . An artist whose passion bled through every line she drew, whose love for art poured into the community. She gave unknown artists a stage, hosting vibrant art showcases where the celebrated and the overlooked shared the same light.

The Escape Room wasn’t just her sanctuary. It was home to many.

A sharp knock broke her focus, right before the door swung open.

“Hey Baby Mama!”

Kyre’s voice burst in with her usual bold energy, a takeout bag swinging from her hand as she strolled in like she owned the place.

Ahzii glanced up from the butterfly she was carefully etching onto a client’s neck, a smile blooming across her lips.

“Hey boo,” she greeted warmly, waving before returning to her work .

Kyre dropped onto the plush red couch in the corner of the tattoo room, making herself comfortable like she always did.

They’d been inseparable since freshman year back in Houston, Texas.

High school couldn’t contain them, so they carried their bond straight to college—Florida A&M University in Tallahassee.

While Ahzii majored in Business Management with a minor in Art, Kyre chased the law. Political science, law school in Miami, and now a powerhouse criminal defense attorney at one of the city’s most prestigious Black-led firms. Kyre wasn’t just good—she was cutthroat .

Where Ahzii was laid-back, goofy, and introverted, Kyre was her fire—bold, outspoken, and razor-sharp.

She lit up every room she stepped into and tore down anyone who tried to dim her light.

Fierce in the courtroom, fearless in life, Kyre was a storm wrapped in elegance.

Anyone who went up against her? They didn’t stand a chance.

She was smaller than Ahzii, standing at 5'4", but her presence made her ten feet tall.

Brown skin glowing effortlessly under any light, her long curly fro framed sharp cheekbones, and brown eyes that burned with confidence.

Today, her body-hugging white designer pantsuit screamed business—but her thick thighs and snatched waist turned heads whether she was in court or the streets.

Kyre was a force. And in Ahzii’s world, her balance.

Ahzii finished the final strokes of the butterfly tattoo, wiping the fresh ink clean before snapping a few pictures and videos for her social media.

Her client beamed, over the moon with the artwork, thanking her at least five times before Ahzii smiled, placed the aftercare tape gently on her neck, and sent her to pay Taylor, her assistant and receptionist, at the front.

Once the door closed, leaving the room quiet except for the soft hum of the speakers, it was just her and Kyre again.

“You booked solid today?” Kyre asked, slipping off her white Louboutin heels and sighing in relief as they hit the floor.

Ahzii wiped down her station, rolling her eyes with a faint chuckle. “Nah. William told Tay to cancel the rest of my day. He’s been tripping lately about me working too much, and the fact that I came home late last night from the shop... yeah, that was the last straw.”

Kyre gave her a knowing look. “Well, he’s right. You have been overworking yourself like you ain’t carrying my little niecy pooh in there.”

Ahzii gave her a playful glare but still joined her on the couch. The second she sat down, Kyre’s hands found her stomach, softly rubbing the small bump peeking through the black crop top.

“Girl, quit,” Ahzii laughed, smacking her hand away. “Y’all act like I’m about to go into labor tomorrow. This girl don’t even have full lungs yet, and y’all losing it.”

Kyre burst into laughter, shaking her head at her best friend’s sarcasm.

At six months, Ahzii still barely looked pregnant.

Finally a baby bump, but still subtle enough to miss unless you knew.

Her body still carried the curves she was known for—thick, toned thighs, a perfect ass that sat just right, and C-cup breasts that were only now starting to swell with the pregnancy.

Standing 5’7, her brown skin glowed effortlessly, and her soft golden-brown eyes carried a quiet light that pulled people in without her even trying.

But as beautiful as she was on the outside, it was her spirit that made her unforgettable.

Goofy. Lighthearted. Sweet in a way that made you want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it. She lit up any room without meaning to, drawing people in with her humor and warmth. But beneath it all, she was shy. An introvert who only let the goofball out once she felt safe.

“You gon’ stop being stubborn,” Kyre pressed, smirking. “That’s why William sat that ass down.”

Ahzii rolled her eyes again but couldn’t fight the smile pulling at her lips.

William—her husband, her best friend, her soulmate.

When she first opened The Escape Room, she hosted an art showcase and tattoo party to put her shop on the map.

She didn’t expect much turnout, but the place was packed.

People bought art, got tattoos, piercings, or just vibed.

William was one of them. He sat in her chair for a discounted tattoo, and somewhere between laughs and ink, he noticed her security cameras weren’t working.

William worked in cybersecurity. Cameras and systems were his thing. He fixed hers that same night, and somehow fixing her cameras turned into exchanging numbers.

Ahzii almost let fear keep her from him.

William was ten years older, already walking through life with the kind of confidence that came from stability—something she’d never had. He had plans, discipline, calmness in his voice when he spoke about the future. And back then, that scared the hell out of her.

Because Ahzii had only ever known how to survive.

Trusting someone—especially a man who wasn’t her brother—to step into her world and try to love her felt foreign. Unsafe. Love didn’t come without pain. And for a girl like her, love had always been conditional. Earned. Snatched away. But William was patient. Gentle. Steady.

He didn’t try to fix her. He just stayed close. Months passed, and bit by bit, she let him in—slowly lowering the walls she’d spent years building. They laughed. Argued. Grew. And somewhere between late-night food runs, soft touches, and whispered secrets in the dark, they fell in love.

A year later, he asked her to marry him. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t hesitate. She said yes.

Now, a year into their marriage, she was glowing—married, in love, and carrying their baby girl. For once, everything in her life felt right. No pain. No survival mode.

Just love.

“And I can’t wait until my brother makes you sit your ass down,” she shot back, side-eyeing Kyre with a smug grin.

Kyre’s head snapped toward her.

A’Mazi.

Ahzii’s twin brother, co-owner of The Escape Room, and one of the dopest artists in the shop.

A’Mazi had been crushing on Kyre since high school, but their rough upbringing left no room for love—only survival.

Back then, neither of them had the space to dream about things like relationships. But life was different now.

And A’Mazi? He was done hiding in the shadows when it came to Kyre .

He wanted her loud and proud. And Ahzii knew Kyre wanted him just as bad—she was just too stubborn, or maybe too scared, to act on it.

Yet.

“Bitch, fuck you,” Kyre shot back, both of them dissolving into laughter.

“Girl, open up that food. Me and my baby starving,” Ahzii said, rubbing her belly dramatically.

Kyre didn’t hesitate, quickly unpacking the lunch she brought.

Ahzii was halfway in her pregnancy, her body small and frame finally showing the bump, but the symptoms didn’t care.

The morning sickness from her first trimester had finally eased, but the aches, the restless nights, and the constant cravings were still very real.

And today? Going out to eat wasn’t happening.

Kyre already knew the drill, so she came through without question.

They sat cross-legged on the couch, sharing bites and swapping stories like they always did, the room filled with comfort and familiarity.

Then, Ahzii’s phone lit up—William’s name flashing across the screen with a FaceTime call.

Her heart softened instantly.