Page 1 of Rose
Prologue
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 wasRose. 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 wascutthroat.
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.
