"To City Hall," Andrew says. "We need to get a marriage license first. Why do you look so surprised to hear me say that? I thought we had an agreement."

"It just seems a little sudden, doesn't it?" Avery says, fighting an intense wave of nausea.

"At least I'm dressed for the occasion," Andrew says, looking at her white tracksuit out of the corner of his eye.

"The outfit doesn't matter," Avery says, desperately trying to think of an excuse. "The problem is the date. Today is a bad day for marriage—I've checked the horoscopes and everything."

"Really?" Andrew asks with a smirk. "I didn't know you believed in fortune-telling."

"Sure," Avery says. "And I'm telling you this date is bad. Anyone who gets married today will probably have a divorce. And if there isn't a divorce, the wife will bring terrible luck to her husband. He'll suffer terribly and die at a young age."

Andrew laughs and says, "But I have to return the heart to Charles, so it's only a matter of time until I die."

"Not soon enough if you ask me," Avery mutters under her breath.

"You really want me to die?" he asks, his voice soft and sad.

Avery turns to look at him, surprised that he could hear her. She looks him up and down and feels an intense wave of sympathy for him. She sighs and shakes her head.

"You know, when you're like this, I don't find you quite as annoying," she says.

Andrew narrows his eyes and presses his lips together. The car starts to go faster, and he weaves in and out of the city traffic. Avery closes her eyes with exhaustion. She knows she only has to stay with Andrew for six months, but that time is starting to feel like an eternity.

"Maybe we should sign some sort of agreement," she says, keeping her eyes closed. "In case you don't honor your word."

Andrew laughs and says, "If I don't want to honor my promise, nothing will force me to do it—least of all a piece of paper. You're the only thing that binds me, Avery."

Avery opens her eyes and stares at him, trying to find a trace of guilt in his expression. But he seems perfectly calm. The thought of cheating her doesn't bother him at all.

"You better treat me well during our time together," he says. "You wouldn't want me to regret our deal suddenly, would you?"

"How dare you!" Avery hisses.

As the car slows for traffic, she jerks at the door handle. It doesn't matter that the car is still moving; she wants to get out as quickly as possible. The door doesn't budge. She tugs on the handle again, pulling with all her weight, but the door is locked.

"Stop this car and let me out right now," she says.

"I forgot how feisty you are," Andrew says. "Rest assured, Jackson will never let me off the hook. If I don't honor my promise, he could easily forge an alliance with Evan, and I'd be powerless against them. Does that make you feel better?"

Avery shrugs. An alliance between Jackson and Evan doesn't make her feel better at all. She doesn't want to ever see Evan again. Andrew takes one hand off the wheel and makes a finger gun. He points it to his temple and smiles lazily.

"Or you could just shoot me here and now and take the heart," he says. "Really, you'll have many opportunities to kill me. If you think about it, you're the one with the advantage."

He turns the car onto the highway and begins to head out of the city. He changes lanes quickly and suddenly without signaling, and Avery gasps and clutches the sides of her seat. He laughs and drives even faster.

"If you don't want to get married today, that's fine," he says. "We can choose another day."

She closes her eyes and gives in to the exhaustion. It's a long drive to Misty Mansion, and she figures she might as well sleep. She opens her eyes as the car slows to a stop and looks around in confusion.

Bright light streams through the tinted windows, and she can see the clear blue sea in the distance. They're parked next to a beachside villa made of glass on top of a hill. Red, yellow, pink, and orange hibiscus flowers cover the hillside, bending and swaying in the sea breeze.

Andrew hops out of the car and opens Avery's door. She inhales deeply; the sweet smell of the flowers mixes with the salty sea air. In the distance, she can hear the waves crashing onto the sand and the cries of seagulls.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asks. "I always thought you preferred cold, and dank places."

"I know you didn't like your time at Misty Mansion," Andrew says, helping her out of the car.

He reaches for her suitcase, but she slaps his hand away. She takes the bag and clutches it tightly in her hand as she looks at her new home. It's undeniably romantic.

"You just chose this house because you thought it would make it easier for me to fall for you," she says. "You want me to develop feelings for you."

"I didn't say anything about feelings," Andrew says.

Before Avery can respond, she sees a small sparkly object go flying through the air. It looks like a woman's high-heeled shoe. She rubs her eyes and sees another shoe fly through the air and land among the hibiscus flowers. Andrew takes her arm and leads her down a pebbled path toward the front door. As they walk, Avery sees dresses, shoes, shirts, and scarves littered along the path.

"What's going on?" Andrew asks a bodyguard.

"It's Miss Clifford," the bodyguard whispers.

"What's wrong with her now?" Andrew asks.

The bodyguard shrugs and opens the front door. They pause in the massive, bright entryway, and Avery looks around. There are floor-to-ceiling views of the sweeping hillside and sea below. A modern, crystal chandelier hangs above, and the floor is covered in some sort of polished stone. On the right are glass and steel staircase.

"Miss Clifford, don't do that," a desperate voice shouts from the second floor. "Mr. Clifford will be so upset when he returns. He bought all that stuff, especially for Miss Peters."

"I don't care," Jessica shouts. "I don't want that woman to be my sister-in-law."

"Jessica!" Andrew calls, climbing the stairs. A white high heel flies toward his face, and he swats it away. "What the hell are you doing?" he asks.

"Andrew!" Jessica screams, running down the stairs. "Why did you bring that woman here? You know, I don't like her."

"I don't care whether you like her or not," Andrew says. "Why are you here, anyway? I'll ask the driver to take you to another house."

"No, I won't go," Jessica says. "I don't want her in this house. Her sister, Gabrielle, seduced Jackson, and she did the same to you. The Peters are all slutty, scheming women!"

Andrew gestures to a bodyguard, and the man climbs the stairs. Jessica clings to the railing and screams at the top of her lungs.

"If anyone dares to touch me, I'll come back and return with Mom," she says. "I'm sure Mom will be thrilled to see that you've brought a divorced, pregnant woman into our family home."

Avery rolls her eyes at Jessica's childish tantrum. I don't want to live with Jessica, but she seems better than Leonie, Avery thinks. At least Jessica is open about her feelings—she's not trying to hide the fact that she hates me. Leonie pretends to be your friend while she secretly plans to stab you in the back.

"Get her out of here," Andrew says with an impatient ave of his hand.

"I'm not leaving," Jessica shouts. "I want to keep an eye on her and figure out what she's after. I don't want any of her evil schemes to succeed."

"I'll tell you what she's after," Andrew says, pointing at his chest. "She's after this."