Page 47 of Rose

He climbed into his Durango, the leather groaning beneath him as he slammed the door. The engine roared like something inside him snapped loose. He hit the gas and tore into the day.

He didn’t know where the anger would take him. But he knew who he needed to see.

Olivia .

And if Olivia had the update he needed? Someone was about to bleed for every wound he’d been forced to carry in silence.

???

Savior stepped into Olivia’s home, the scent of sandalwood incense pulling him deeper inside. It trailed through the hall like a quiet invitation, leading him toward the familiar comfort of her home office .

Olivia shared the house with her husband, Daniel Stone, a powerful federal judge and longtime loyalist to the Carter family. Everything about the place was serene and sharp, just like her.

“Come in,” Olivia called before he even knocked, already sensing him.

He followed the trail to her sleek white-and-black office, where she sat reviewing files. Savior dropped onto her white sectional, tension still clinging to his shoulders like armor.

“You find something?” he asked, his voice low, ragged with exhaustion.

Olivia looked up, immediately clocking his energy.

“You good? Ahzii cut your ass off?” she asked with a knowing smirk.

Savior let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“Nah. She ain’t dumb.”

Olivia raised a brow. “Nigga, please. That woman runs laps around you. She got you wrapped around her manicured little fingers. Bet she calls, you come, probably moaning too. ”

Savior laughed harder this time, the tension cracking just a bit. He didn’t argue. Couldn’t.

“Fuck you.”

Olivia smirked. “Don’t need to. But seriously—do you love her?”

That word hit like a sucker punch to the chest. And it’s the second time today someone asked. Savior exhaled, trying to brush it off.

“I didn’t come over here for that.”

“Whatever,” she shrugged. “You always end up telling me eventually. When you’re ready.”

She reached for a folder and slid it across the coffee table toward him.

“This is the assassination job Sin led a year ago. I got in touch with the detective who worked the case. He sent everything—crime scene reports, forensics, photos, autopsy files.”

Savior flipped it open, eyes scanning the pages. Gruesome crime scene shots. Typed witness statements. Forensic breakdowns.

But something was missing.

“There was only one body recovered?” he asked, brow furrowing.

Olivia nodded. “Yeah. That was Raz. No sign of William. My bad, Lazarus.”

His jaw tightened. “So he’s alive?”

“There’s a strong possibility,” Olivia replied. “Sin’s still running facial recognition on the new photo to confirm. But according to the official report... the only confirmed corpse in that fire was Raz.”

Savior kept flipping, disbelief tightening his chest.

“Wild said they gunned him down. Burned the house after. Said Lazarus was already dead before they lit the match. How the fuck does someone survive that?”

“I don’t know,” Olivia admitted. “But you know how psychos like Lazarus are. Niggas like that got nine lives.”

She stood, walked to her file cabinet, and pulled another folder free.

“I dug deeper. Checked hospitals in the area. If Wild was right and Lazarus was bleeding out, someone had to treat him. But... he never checked in. No ER reports, no fake names, nothing. ”

She paused, laying the second file in front of him.

“But I did find this. A patient admitted to St. Joseph’s Memorial that same night—same time window. Woman. Third-degree burns. Gunshot wound to the abdomen. Pregnant.”

Savior stared at the folder before slowly opening it.

“What’s her name?” he asked.

Olivia hesitated.

“That’s the bad news. She’s listed as Jane Doe. And not as a placeholder or alias. Her legal name in the system is Jane Doe. Nothing else.”

Savior’s eyes lifted, mugging her hard.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she said, frustration in her voice now. “No ID. No security footage of her being brought in. No ambulance logs. It’s like she never existed.”

Savior clenched his jaw, staring down at the file.

First Selene. Now this.

It was like the universe was daring him to lose control.

“So, any location on where Jane Doe is now?” Savior asked, desperation bleeding into his voice. “She might be connected to William somehow.”

Olivia didn’t answer right away. Her eyes dropped to the file.

“Dead,” she finally said. Quiet. Heavy.

Savior’s body stilled. His blood started to simmer.

“Dead?” he repeated, barely above a whisper.

“According to the hospital records... she died a few days after the incident. No autopsy. No funeral. Just a single line on a chart. Time of death. Cause of death. End of file. ”

His jaw locked. The muscle ticked violently at the side of his face. His hand curled into a tight fist on his knee.

“ Bullshit. ” The word dropped like a threat.

“They just let a pregnant woman with a gunshot wound and third-degree burns die, and nobody asked questions?”

“I said the same thing,” Olivia murmured, eyes dark. “Nothing adds up. No body released to next of kin. No records of burial. No cremation. It’s like she just... vanished.”

Savior stood, pacing now. The walls of Olivia’s office felt like they were closing in.

“She didn’t die,” he muttered, more to himself than her.

“You don’t know that—”

“No.” He cut her off, his voice low and certain. “I feel it. Ghosts don’t leave this many clues unless they want to be found. This wasn’t a failed hit. This was a fucking escape. ”

He turned and met her eyes, his stare sharp enough to slice through glass.

“Someone wiped her clean.”

Olivia slowly nodded. “And if that’s true… whoever Jane Doe really is, she’s still out there. ”

Savior’s breath caught in his throat, rage building beneath the surface. Everything inside him was screaming. None of it made sense. It was too clean. Too controlled.

“I’m feeling played, Olivia,” he said through gritted teeth.

And that? That was a feeling he couldn’t fucking stand.

“I know,” she said softly, scanning the chaos of files. “Shit’s not adding up.”

“All we got is a blurry-ass photo of some nigga in sandals walking down the street,” Savior growled.

“Pretty much. Until Sincere comes back with facial recognition, that’s all we have,” Olivia said with a sigh.

“We need to meet with Cain again,” Savior said, standing tall. “Pick his brain. See if there’s anything else he didn’t say.”

“What about Jane Doe?”

“She’s a dead end—for now. But Cain might know if William had a family before he went ghost. If there’s a thread to pull, he’ll have it.”

He grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

“Set up the meeting.”

“You know your father’s gonna want to be there,” Olivia added.

Savior paused at the doorway, nodding once. “That’s cool. I’ll hit you later.”

He left without another word.

The second he was back in his car, he pulled out his phone and dialed the only number that brought him peace.

Allure .

No answer.

His grip tightened around the steering wheel as that boiling anger threatened to crack the surface again.

He needed a break. He needed oil, tools, vinyl, and silence. He headed to his shop, praying the sound of engines and the hum of music could drown out the noise clawing at his mind.

???

Ahzii walked into Gold , the blast of cool air hitting her sun-warmed skin like a welcome kiss. Miami’s heat still lingered, even with summer nearing its end. She slid off her shades, helmet in hand, scanning the familiar space. The scent of buttery garlic and grilled citrus filled the air.

“Hi, Ms. Rose,” Chris greeted from the host stand with a smile.

“Hey, Chris. How you been?” she asked, her voice smooth, casual.

She’d been coming here often after her first visit— Gold had quickly become her favorite spot. Every dish hit like a memory she didn’t know she needed.

“Doing good. Just trying to keep the boss lady happy,” Chris said with a wink.

Ahzii chuckled. Chris and Sarai were messing around on the low, and while Sarai treated it like a no-strings escape, Chris clearly wanted more. It was written all over him, his gaze lingered, his smirk always a little too soft when she wasn’t looking. Sarai couldn’t see it. But Ahzii could.

“Mmm, I bet. Where’s boss lady now?” she asked, glancing toward the back.

“Corner table, by the window. She’s waiting on you.”

“Thanks.”

Ahzii made her way toward the table, her Marni slides quiet against the tile. Sarai was already seated, phone pressed to her ear, voice sharp with irritation.

“Sav, I don’t know why Ahzii’s not answering the phone,” Sarai said. “She’s not your wife— yet…. Well then, put a ring on it.”

Ahzii smirked, recognizing that tone, and who it was for.

She’d seen Savior’s calls but hadn’t picked up. Not because she didn’t want to. Because she did. Too much. After opening up to him that night about her daughter, about her childhood… something shifted. He made her feel too much. And that terrified her.

“Tell her yourself, Savior. I have to go—I got a business to run.” Sarai hung up with a sigh as Ahzii approached.

“Girl,” Sarai said, standing to hug her, “please call my brother. Send him the eggplant emoji or something so he knows you thinking about him. I’m tired of this man blowing up my phone every thirty minutes like I got a tracking chip on you.”

Ahzii laughed softly as they hugged. “I’ll call him later.”

Sarai tilted her head, catching the shift in her tone.

“What did his big-headed ass do?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “I love my brother, but I will shoot his knees if he hurt you. Don’t test me, Ahzii.”

That protective glint in her eye made Ahzii smile, reminded her why she liked Sarai so much.

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” she said quietly as they sat. “I promise.”

The waitress returned quickly, jotting down their drink and food orders with a practiced smile before disappearing again.

Ahzii’s phone buzzed on the table.

Savior . Again.

She pressed decline without a second thought.

Sarai raised an eyebrow as the waitress came back, setting down their drinks with perfect timing.