DESCRIPTION Not the sweet kind of rose. Wild Card hits like a late text and a locked stare. Damask rose and saffron kick things off — rich, reckless, addictive — before diving into a haze of oud, smoke, and whatever trouble you're into. There’s warmth underneath, but it doesn’t beg. Sandalwood, tolu balsam, and musk wrap it up like skin after fire. Unpredictable. Deep. Can’t be played.
