Five years is a long time in the world of mortals, but for the Devil, it is an eternity of silence.

Aman Raichand was now 37. The ruthless billionaire had grown colder, harder, and entirely devoid of the human emotion that had briefly touched him. His empire had tripled, built on the ashes of his broken heart. He searched for Amyra relentlessly, obsessively, but she had vanished flawlessly. The only remnant of his secret doll was a diamond ring sitting in a secure vault, next to a blurry ultrasound photo.