Page 59 of Rose
Savior?
Already vanished. Like he was never there to begin with.
Her mind spun.
The video. The violence. The way he looked at her like she was already his. The way her body still hummed from his proximity, despite everything in her screamingrun.
And the part that scared her most—
Shefeltsomething. Something she thought died with William. Something no one had touched since.
She dragged herself upstairs to the guest room and crawled into bed. She wanted sleep. Needed it.
But all she could think about wasSavior Carter.
And that was something shecouldn’tafford to do.
Chapter 7
Savior eased his black Dodge Durango through the towering black gates, tires crunching over gravel before rolling onto smooth concrete. The gates slid shut behind him, swallowing him into silence.
He stepped out, boots landing heavy on the pavement, and took in the vast open field stretching around him—miles of stillness in every direction.
In the center of it all sat the greenhouse.
Massive. Glass. Glowing in bursts of soft color like it held its own sun inside.
Savior walked toward it, the air calm, clean, and oddly peaceful. The kind of peace he never trusted.
The glass doors opened after he punched in the code, and a soft mist sprayed over him, sanitizing his clothes and skin before he moved any further inside.
It was Sincere’s sanctuary.
His little brother’s empire.
A living, breathing space filled with vibrant plants and the sharp, earthy scent of premium weed.
Savior moved slowly through the aisles, eyes scanning the lush greens, the climbing vines, the orderly rows of cannabis thriving under ultraviolet light.
He was in awe.
Everything in this place had been grown by Sincere’s hands. Nurtured. Researched. Protected.
This greenhouse wasn’t just a grow house—it was a damn kingdom.
Sincere had built successful dispensaries all over the city, pioneered natural medicine research, and provided real help to people who’d been failed by the system.
He was doing good.
Exactly what Savior always wanted for him—even if it meant sacrificing his own childhood so the twins could live without the weight of the family’s bloody legacy.
Through a haze of smoke, Sincere appeared in a white lab coat, clipboard in hand, looking more like a scientist than the little brother who used to ride shotgun with him on missions they weren’t supposed to survive.
“This shit gets bigger every time I visit,” Savior said, pride thick in his voice.
Sincere looked up, his smirk spreading slow.
Although he and Sarai were twins, he was a spitting image of Savior—just a few years younger. Same dark skin, same brown eyes, same quiet fire behind them. Tattoos climbed his arms, curls resting at his shoulders, face framed in a trimmed beard that mirrored Savior’s almost exactly.
