Page 35 of Rose

She made her way into his closet, lined in black and gray, filled with designer pieces and luxury simplicity. Savior was 6'7, 250 pounds of sculpted muscles. She was 5'7, 140, built mostly in the hips and thighs. His clothes would definitely swallow her whole.

She grabbed a pair of black Essentials sweatpants and slid them on.

Baggy, but not too much, her ass still poked through a little.

Then she pulled on a matching white tee over her black lace bra.

Thankfully, she’d thrown her fuzzy black Balenciaga slides in her purse the night before when she ditched her heels.

She slipped them on, twisted her slightly damp braids into a high bun, and let the curls cascade over the knot.

For the first time in a long time, when she looked in the mirror… she didn’t see exhaustion staring back at her.

No bags under her eyes. No shadowed grief etched into her features.

Just… her.

Softened. Rested. Beautiful.

Maybe it was the sex. Maybe it was the mattress that felt like it was flown in from some remote European village where sleep was holy.

Or maybe… just maybe…

It was him.

And that’s what scared her the most.

Ahzii spotted her dress from the night before, freshly folded and draped neatly across the chair in the corner of Savior’s room.

Her underwear tucked in the folds, her heels placed carefully beside.

Everything positioned like she was a guest who mattered.

She grabbed them quickly, along with her purse and keys, and made her way toward the door, hoping to slide out unnoticed.

But the sound of a woman’s laughter from downstairs froze her in place.

Her chest tightened. Of course, they weren’t together. She had no claim on Savior. No strings, her words. But she still hadn’t expected to hear another woman’s laugh so soon.

Couldn’t he at least wait until I left?

Ahzii forced her feet to move, one slow step at a time, as the scent of bacon and butter teased her senses. The moment she reached the bottom step, Savior looked up, mid-conversation, and so did the woman beside him. Their eyes met hers.

The woman was stunning, caramel skin glowing under the kitchen lights, freckles dusting her cheeks and nose, brown eyes framed by long lashes.

Her curls were slicked into a neat bun, and the badge clipped to her black slacks made it clear she was law enforcement.

A diamond on her finger caught the light, loud and clear, married.

But Ahzii wasn’t in the mood to be seen. She tried veering toward the garage instead, holding her clothes tightly in her arm.

Still, it was too late. She was already in view.

“Allure, come here,” Savior called. She slowly walked to him.

“This is my wife, Allure,” Savior said, grinning. “Allure, this is my big-headed ass best friend, Olivia.”

Ahzii and Olivia both rolled their eyes in unison.

“This nigga,” Olivia laughed, then turned to Ahzii with a warm smile. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. You’re beautiful.”

“Same here,” Ahzii responded politely, managing a small smile. “And thank you, you as well. My name’s Ahzii, by the way. And I’m not this nigga’s wife.”

Savior stood behind her, hand at her waist like he had to feel her if she was near. His touch was habitual now.

“I know,” Olivia replied, eyes narrowing curiously. “But the fact that he’s even calling you his wife says a lot. I’ve known this man since we were six years old, and I swear I never thought I’d hear the word ‘wife’ leave his mouth.”

“Hopefully you will see him with a wife one day,” Ahzii shot back coolly, “just not with me.”

Olivia blinked. “Wait… y’all not toge—”

“We are,” Savior interrupted quickly. “She just playing hard to get. You know I’m patient. I don’t mind moving on her time.”

Olivia shook her head, chuckling. “But girl, you’re not staying for breakfast? You were about to zoom out of here like a getaway driver.”

“Actually, no, I have to—”

The tight grip on her ass cut her off mid-sentence, and she whipped her head around to glare at Savior.

“Don’t piss me off,” he said calmly, not breaking eye contact. “You staying for breakfast.”

He leaned in to kiss Ahzii’s cheek, but she blocked him with a mush to his forehead.

“Allure, stop fucking playing with me,” he warned, voice low. “You disrespecting my boundary.”

With a heavy sigh, she let him kiss her cheek on the second attempt, lips soft against her skin.

Olivia watched, lips parted, confusion evident in her eyes.

“Well… Ahzii, we should—”

“Olive Oil, don’t piss me off,” Savior cut her off, shooting her a glare.

“That ain’t my fucking name,” Olivia fired back, giving him a quick jab to the shoulder.

“And that ain’t her fucking name either,” Savior added with a smirk. “It’s Mrs. Carter, or Allure. Get it right.”

He walked back toward the stove and flipped the bacon like the conversation hadn’t just shifted the temperature of the room.

“Nigga please,” both women said in unison.

Savior only chuckled, the sound deep and unbothered, as if chaos and control were one and the same to him.

“Olivia, I don’t know how you’ve dealt with this man for so many years. Your mental health is in my prayers,” Ahzii muttered, watching Savior from across the kitchen .

Olivia chuckled, eyes warm. “Thanks, girl—you can call me Liv. But I already know I’ll be sending a few up for you too. He ain’t coming off you, no matter what you do or say.”

Ahzii followed Olivia’s gaze. Savior stood at the stove, dancing and rapping along to Lil Wayne, his shoulders moving to the beat like he didn’t have a single care in the world. He was barefoot, shirtless, flipping pancakes like a man with peace in his chest and love in his bones.

“That same man…” Olivia said, shaking her head. “He’s a stone-cold killer. Been like that since we were teens. All he ever gave a damn about was his cars, his dogs, and handling bodies. Twenty-seven years I’ve known him, and I’ve never seen him like this.”

Ahzii exhaled slowly. “That’s exactly why I can’t get emotionally attached to him. I’m not ready for this. Not again. I can’t afford to hurt him… and I will. I’m too heartless to accept what he’s trying to give.”

The music was loud enough to mask their voices, and the stove was far enough that Savior couldn’t hear them. He was still in his own world, cooking like he was building a future.

“I’m a federal detective, so I make a living reading people,” Olivia said gently.

“And I can tell the minute I looked into your eyes—you’ve been hurt in the worst kind of way.

That’s something Savior understands. He’s always had this…

emptiness in him. Quiet, numb. But if he loves you?

He loves you. And sometimes, yeah, in the most chaotic, destructive ways. But it’s still love. Always has been.”

Ahzii blinked, caught in her own spiraling thoughts. “So… why me?” she asked, her voice smaller now. “What makes me so special that he let me in? Why am I one of the people he feels for?”

Olivia tilted her head, thoughtful. “I can’t say for sure.

But if I had to guess? Savior would deny this until his last breath, but he has a thing about saving people.

It’s not just his job, it’s who he is. Killing to protect, hurting to heal.

His parents must’ve seen it coming, naming him Savior . ”

Ahzii’s brows drew in. “So he’s got a savior complex?” she asked flatly, her body tensing.

“Yes,” Olivia admitted, raising a brow at her defensive tone. “But I don’t want you to think that’s what’s happening here.”

“That’s exactly what it sounds like,” Ahzii bit back. “And I’m good on a savior in my life.”

Before Olivia could respond, Savior’s voice rang through the music.

“Olivia! You want pancakes, too?!”

“No, I’m good, Sav!” she yelled back, forcing a smile before turning back to Ahzii.

“All I’m saying,” Olivia said more softly now, “is this doesn’t feel like a man trying to save someone.

This feels like a man trying to love someone the only way he knows how.

He loved his parents like this. His siblings.

Me. By protecting. By doing. By being . That’s how he shows love.

But with you?” She motioned toward him. “You light him up. He smiles. Actually smiles. His heart beats louder when you’re near.

He’s not trying to save you… he’s just trying to love you.

And he knows you’re not ready. Not yet. ”

Ahzii’s stomach twisted. “Then I need to leave him. That’s dangerous. I refuse to lead him on like that.”

Olivia reached across and gently touched her arm. “Baby… that’s the worst thing you could do.”

Ahzii’s brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“He blew up a man’s car because you went on a date,” Olivia reminded her, voice low and serious. “Just imagine what he’d do if you really left him. For good.”

“Wait—you knew what he did?” Ahzii asked, staring at Olivia, stunned. “Aren’t you law enforcement? Shouldn’t you be trying to arrest him or something?”

Olivia burst out laughing, not even trying to hide her amusement.

“I am law enforcement,” she said, flashing her badge briefly.

“But I’m a Carter first. Not by blood, but by bond.

That family took me in when I had nothing—no parents, no place, just a mouth full of rage and fists that couldn’t stay still.

This badge?” She tapped it once. “It’s to protect them. Not prosecute.”

Ahzii blinked, taken aback by how easily she said it.

“And besides,” Olivia added with a shrug, “I knew he was going to do it before he did. He doesn’t keep much from me.

I’ve just learned to stay out of the way when it’s personal.

” Her eyes sparkled with a twisted sort of affection.

“For your safety and the sanity of the city, I’d advise you to stop talking to that man—or any man—unless you want to be responsible for a drop in the population and a mountain of paperwork on my desk. ”

She laughed again, light but deadly serious underneath.