Bryan stood there, masking his rage and jealousy with a calm demeanor, but inside, he was seething. Five long years, every single night, he had spoken to Amara on the phone, and the voice he had just heard—Cloe's voice—was undeniably her. Every tone, every inflection, even the attitude in her words. And those eyes—those unmistakable, crazy ocean green eyes—belonged to Amara Clark. There was no doubt in Bryan's mind anymore.
His body trembled with a mixture of anger and possessiveness as he watched Caesar holding her. The way Caesar touched his Amara—now Cloe—was unbearable. The fact that she was standing there in front of him, alive, pretending to be someone else, made his blood boil.
Bryan took a deep breath, controlling his emotions, and then spoke, his voice calm but with a dangerous
