Page 113 of Rose
Now, she sat in the passenger seat, watching streetlights flicker on, scanning the skyline like it held clues. But he was taking turns without signaling. Cutting down streets she didn’t recognize. It was like he was purposely keeping her guessing.
The light pink V-neck suit dress she wore hugged her figure perfectly. Sleeveless, stopping just above the knee, the elegant fit kissed her brown skin like it was made for her. She almost refused to wear it at first, the way it exposed the burn mark on her inner thigh made her flinch when she saw it in the mirror. But Sarai and Kyre told her Savior picked the dress himself.
He wants to see you in it.
So she kept it on.
And when he showed up… when his eyes landed on her… the way he looked at her had her legs damn near giving out. Like she stole the breath from his lungs. Like she was the only thing that existed.
She burned that look into her memory. Let it wrap around the insecure pieces of her like armor.
Her matching open-toe heels flashed every time she shifted her legs, showing off her soft pink toes—proof she listened, even if she’d acted like she wouldn’t. The goldjewelry gleamed against her skin, and her pixie cut framed her face perfectly, the light makeup softening her sharpest edges just enough.
Savior cleaned up too. Black Amiri short-sleeve button-down that hugged his arms and chest like it was stitched in place. Top two buttons undone, exposing his gold chains and a glimpse of his tatted chest. Black Amiri jeans. Black designer shoes. A fresh line-up from his beard to his hairline that only made his features more defined.
His cologne—Creed—mixed with her Chanel in the small space between them. Rich. Intoxicating.
And every time she glanced over at him, all she could think about was riding his face. Or his dick. Or both. His jaw clenched when he drove. His eyes never stayed still. He had this quiet intensity, like he was thinking fifty things at once and all of them ended with her bent over something.
She crossed her legs.
This man was dangerous. And she didn’t know where the hell he was taking her.
But she was starting to care less and less.
Savior pulled up in front of a glowing brick building that stood out like the star of the street. Warm golden lights washed over its entrance, drawing eyes from every direction. People in sleek suits and elegant gowns strolled toward the doors, laughter and soft music floating into the summer air.
Savior stopped in front of valet and stepped out without a word.
“Good evening, Mr. Carter,” the valet greeted, taking the keys.
Savior nodded once, then circled to the passenger side. He opened Ahzii’s door, and she stepped out slowly, still trying to figure out where the hell he’d brought her.
Her eyes followed the crowd heading inside, eyebrows pulling together. “Savior… where are we?”
“You’ll see.” He laced his fingers through hers and led her up the steps, nodding to security as they passed through the entrance.
The moment they stepped inside, Ahzii’s breath hitched.
The building, with its elegant brick façade and minimalist charm, was an art museum.
But not like the ones she was used to.
This place felt alive.
Every inch of wall space was touched by color, texture, and soul. Paintings, sculptures, digital installations, art in every form surrounded her. Soft ambient music played in the background, blending seamlessly with the low murmur of voices and clinking glass. Waiters glided through the space offering champagne in crystal flutes, and both she and Savior took one without missing a beat.
“What is this place?” she asked, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.
She’d lived in Miami for years and swore she’d seen every museum the city had to offer, but this place? This space? She had never even heard of it.
“It’s calledArtistic Souls,” Savior explained, watching her closely. “A friend of mine owns it. When you told me about your dream of opening your own museum, I reached out. He hosts showcases here year-round.”
Ahzii blinked. Her chest tightened.
He remembered.
Not only did he remember—he did something with it.
