Page 69 of Rose

Relief flickered, but only for a second.

“I’ll call you when it’s done,” Savior said before heading for the door, disappearing into the night like he’d never been there.

Savior pulled up to the address Cain had given him, engine rumbling low as his eyes swept the block.

Middle-class neighborhood. Clean lawns. The kind of place where no one would guess a mass murderer was hiding in plain sight.

The red Cadillac sat in the driveway exactly like Cain said it would—confirmation that William was home.

He told himself to lock in, to focus on business, but every few seconds Ahzii pushed her way back into his mind.

The unread messages. The block. The silence.

He’d promised her space, but she’d had enough of that.

Once this was done, he was going straight to Bianca’s to see her. Whether she wanted him there or not.

He parked two houses down, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he waited. Cain’s intel needed to be airtight—one wrong move, and this could spiral. Minutes crawled by until the front door cracked open. A man stepped out with a trash bag slung in one hand. Savior’s eyes locked on him.

William.

He watched him walk to the curb, toss the bag into the dumpster, and stroll back inside like he was nothing more than a regular neighbor. Like he hadn’t killed thousands. Like he didn’t have enough blood on his hands to drown in.

Savior’s jaw flexed as he screwed the silencer onto his gun. He hit Olivia’s number.

“Yeah? Move the fuck up!” she barked over the sound of honking.

“I’m outside his house. Cain was right,” Savior said, sliding on his gloves.

“Traffic’s still bad as fuck. Sin’s with me—we’re twenty minutes out. He already hacked into the street cameras, and William’s too. They’re down.”

“Where the fuck is that nigga? I’ve been calling him.”

“We’re together,” Olivia said, then snapped at another driver. “Be careful, Khaos. All Love.”

“All Love,” Savior returned, ending the call after Sin echoed the words.

Twenty minutes was twenty too long. He wasn’t about to risk William slipping away.

Sliding out of the car, Savior moved like shadow—through the alley, across the grass, his boots silent on the damp ground. He rounded to the back of the house, catching sight of William through the window.

There he was. Sitting on the couch, back to the glass, eyes on the TV. Comfortable. Safe.

Savior moved like a shadow, slipping through the side yard until he reached the farthest bedroom. The window was cracked, unlocked. Fate, or maybe just arrogance. He eased it open, climbing inside without a whisper of sound.

Gun in hand, he swept through the house. William’s TV blared in the living room, drowning out every creak in the floorboards. This nigga stupid, Savior thought, shaking his head. He checked every corner, every door. Empty. Just him and William.

He crept into the living room and pressed the cold barrel to the back of William’s head. “About time you showed up,” William chuckled like he’d been expecting him.

“Stand the fuck up,” Savior ordered, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

William rose slowly, hands raised, the smirk never leaving his face. “Not sending soldiers to do your dirty work anymore? I get it… the ones you sent the first time must’ve been new. Didn’t even check a man’s pulse after they pulled the trigger.”

“You talk too much for a dead man,” Savior said, finger tightening on the trigger.

“Wait—” William’s breath hitched, a show of fear Savior didn’t buy. “You should know something before you kill me.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Savior steadied his aim.

Pow.

The shot came from behind. Pain exploded in his leg, hot and searing, dropping him to a knee. His gun slipped from his grip. William snatched it before Savior could recover.

“I’m not Lazarus,” William said, standing over him.

“Fuck!” Savior roared, clutching his bleeding leg. Footsteps echoed—slow, deliberate—followed by the tap of a cane. Cain stepped into view, gun leveled at Savior, eyes cold.

Savior’s gaze flicked between Cain and the man who wore William’s face.

“I bet you care what I have to say now,” the man said.

Savior tried to push to his feet, but another shot ripped through his side, sending him back down.

“My name is Darius Cain. Cain’s twin brother,” the man said with a grim smile. “Or maybe you know him better as William Davis… aka Lazarus Cain.”

Cain’s smirk was lethal. “Don’t feel so good being on this side of death, does it?”

Savior bared his teeth in defiance. “I’ll see yo ass in hell, my nigga.”

Lazarus laughed as he sank into the chair Darius dragged over. “Second time you’ve failed to get me, Khaos. I’m shocked your pops even gave you the business.” His grin was sharp and mocking. “Hell, the pussies you sent the first time did better—they at least fucked me up a little.”

Savior groaned, blood pooling under him, but the fire in his eyes didn’t dim.

“When I met Saint at a poker table, I knew I had this dumbass family in my back pocket,” Lazarus went on, leaning forward. “The man felt so sorry for me, he walked me straight to the lion’s den. Tell me—how’s it feel to be played?”

“Man, nigga… fuck you,” Savior gritted out, wincing through the pain.

“Just like you been fucking my wife for the last few months,” Lazarus shot back.

Savior’s glare sharpened. “I don’t know your fucking wife.”

“Oh, but you do,” Lazarus said, voice low and venomous. “You caused her more pain than anyone. Tried to take her husband from her. And you’re the reason she lost her baby girl. Willow.”

The name hit Savior like a bullet to the chest. His breathing stuttered. He knew exactly who Lazarus meant. It was confirmation. The truth he never wanted to face. Ahzii had been in that house. And his family’s mission had destroyed her life.

Lazarus saw the change in his eyes and laughed. “Yeah. Ahzii is Jane Doe. How’s it feel to know you’re the reason the woman you fell for has been drowning in pain for a year?”

“She don’t know you. That shit ain’t true,” Savior said, shaking his head even though the weight of it was crushing him.

“You’re right about one thing—she doesn’t know this me,” Lazarus said with a smug grin. “But William Davis? She knows him. Loves him. And now she’s back where she belongs.”

Savior’s voice hardened. “Where the fuck is she? What did you do to her?”

“She’s none of your concern anymore,” Lazarus said, stepping closer. “I told her everything—how you and your family are the reason she’s spent the last year grieving. I made sure every piece of evidence pointed straight at you. She won’t mourn you after I kill you. Now? She will hate you.”

He smirked as he delivered the final blow. “Matter of fact… she already does.”

“No…” Savior’s voice was ragged, but the denial in it was thick. He didn’t want to believe it, yet the signs were all there—her silence, the block, the sudden wall between them. She knew.

“Oh… nigga really hurt,” Lazarus taunted, eyes glinting with malice. “She was never yours to have. That’s my woman, my wife. And now that she hates your ass, she won’t grieve you the way she grieved me.”

Savior gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet, but before he could take a step, Lazarus fired. The bullet tore into his shoulder, sending him crashing back to the floor.

“Ahhh… fuck!” Savior’s scream tore through the air, ragged and guttural.

“Ahzii is—and will always be—mine.” Lazarus stepped in close and squeezed the trigger again. The shot hit Savior in the chest, his body jerking before he went still, blood pooling beneath him.

Lazarus crouched, fingers to Savior’s neck, finding the pulse faint but still there.

“Is he dead?” Darius asked, leaning over the body.

“He will be.”

Before Darius could process it, Lazarus turned the gun on him and fired. The bullet slammed into his chest, his eyes going wide in shock as he stumbled back.

“The fuck?” Darius choked, coughing blood, confusion etched in every line of his face.

“Sorry, brother,” Lazarus said, voice cold and almost casual. “But I can’t risk anyone coming after me anymore. They’ll think you’re me.”

“Why?” Darius wheezed, his voice breaking.

“It’s time for me and my wife to be happy. I’m done with this life.” Lazarus stepped closer, eyes void of hesitation. “Love you, twin. And thank you… for everything.”

The final shot cracked through the air, piercing Darius’s skull. His body crumpled, lifeless.

Lazarus knelt, checking for a pulse he knew wasn’t there, then methodically pressed Darius’s fingerprints onto the gun. Framing complete.

“That’s for kissing my wife, too,” he muttered over the corpse before straightening.

Without a glance back, Lazarus strode out, slid behind the wheel of the red Cadillac, and tore down the street, racing back to the only woman who’d ever been heaven in the hell he built.

Savior lay sprawled in a pool of his own blood, every breath a war he was losing. Death was pulling him under, slow and merciless, each breath heavier than the last. His vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges, but his mind clung to one thing— her .

Flashes of Ahzii filled his fading consciousness: her laugh, her stubborn fire, the way she looked at him like he was more than the monster he’d been forged to be. Every kiss. Every fight. Every promise.

“My Allure…” The words scraped out of his throat, broken and raw, before the black swallowed him whole.