The evening air was cool, but Ryan’s blood was boiling with frustration.

The image of Steve Jacob flashed in his mind, but what made his chest tighten was the little girl he saw in those features—Amy.

Her resemblance to Steve was undeniable, and it gnawed at him, making his head spin.

Slumping back in his office chair, Ryan let out a rough sigh. His tie hung loosely around his neck, and his suit jacket was tossed aside.

He needed to clear his head. Finishing the last of his work, he reached for his phone.

“Mr. Ryan,” Jefferson, his assistant, peeked in through the half-opened door. “Anything else you need before...