Page 79 of Rose
Her blood ran cold. She stood from her chair so fast it made Kiyan look up at her, confused. But she smiled. Smooth. Kept her tone light as she slowly straddled him in his chair—blocking his chest with her body, keeping him covered.
“Enjoy the view,” she whispered into the phone, sultry and slow.
Kiyan smirked, thinking the show was for him. “Hell yeah… Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, hanging up his call as he kissed her.
She kissed him back. Twice. Soft, but full of fire—because she knew he was watching. She wanted Savior to see every damn thing.
“Niggas don’t run me,” she said, her lips brushing Kiyan’s.
“Playin’ with fire, Allure.” Savior’s voice was low, dark, and deadly through the phone. It made her thighs clench.
“I’ve survived fire before, sweetheart.”
Kiyan, still caught up in the moment, blinked. “Wait—what’d you just say?”
“Baby, it’s time to show you why they call me Khaos,” he said, sounding sexy.
She rolled her eyes, ignoring him, then hung up the phone. “Bye, nigga.”
Kiyan looked up at her, confused. “Everything good?”
Ahzii nodded, forcing a tight smile, now standing in front of him like a shield. “I want to get out of here. Now.”
She held out her hand, already planning their exit—not because she wanted to continue the night, but because she could feel those dangerous eyes still watching.
“Let’s go,” Kiyan said, standing as he grabbed her hand and tossed a wad of cash on the table. They made their way down the steps to where his car sat parked in the middle of the street like it owned the block. Valet nodded as Kiyan hit the keypad for his Ferrari.
BOOM!
The explosion shook the ground. A fiery blast erupted from the Ferrari, sending people screaming and stumbling away. The impact knocked them both back. Kiyan yelled, “What the fuck!” as he scrambled up to stare at what was left of his car.
Ahzii didn’t move.
Her ears rang. Her body locked. The flames roared in front of her, but it was the fire in her mind that burned hotter. The smoke. The screams. The blood. The house. William. Willow. The flames that swallowed her life.
Her breathing spiraled, too fast, too shallow. Her chest rose and fell like she was drowning in air. Her hands trembled. Her feet wouldn’t move. She was standing on that street, but her soul was trapped in that burning house all over again.
The loud ring of her phone sliced through the havoc.
She answered with a shaky voice, eyes locked on the fire. “Hello…”
"A car is gonna pull up on the corner. You’ll get in.”
His voice.
That low, lethal rasp. Smooth as silk, sharp as a blade.
“I don’t mind reminding you why they call me Khaos,” he continued, cold and slow. “And I know you don’t want that shit on your conscience, Allure.”
Right on cue, a black Bugatti rolled up like death itself. The door opened, and out stepped Savior—calm, composed, dressed like he hadn’t just blown up a six-figure car in the middle of the street.
Ahzii stood trembling. Her body shook, her mind fraying at the seams, but her feet started moving on their own. She didn’t speak. Didn’t meet his eyes. She walked right past his outstretched hand and slid into the passenger seat.
Savior got in, slammed the door shut, and took off like a shadow with a vengeance.
Ahzii didn’t look back.
Kiyan was yelling into his phone, pacing in front of what used to be his car. Too busy trying to grasp how close he came to dying to even notice she was gone.
