Avery turns and locks eyes with Evan. He's standing in the aisle between the pews as if he's ready for a fight. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, and his eyes flash dangerously.

"Evan," she gasps. "What are you doing here?"

He ignores her and stalks toward the altar with a team of uniformed bodyguards behind him. Several guards break off from the group and start to clear the reporters and guests out of the church. A few men start to argue with the guards, and the guards pull out batons and guns. The crowds vanish.

"Remember when I said I'd bring you a wedding gift?" Evan asks. "Well, here it is."

He snaps his fingers, and two bodyguards step forward, holding a weak-looking man between them. The man has a pale doughy face and nervous blue eyes, and the way he leans into the guards suggests he can't stand on his own.

"Avery, you need to open your eyes and see what type of man you're about to marry," Evan says. "Ask this man who he is."

Avery turns to look at the feeble man and stammers, "Who are you?"

"I'm no one," the man mutters miserably. "I'm here because of my heart. I have the heart of some man named Charles Meyer."

The words hit Avery like a physical blow. She staggers backward and almost bumps into the priest. She catches herself at the last minute and turns to look at Andrew. The color has drained from Andrew's face, and there's a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Is that true, Andrew?" Avery asks. "Did you lie to me?"

Before Andrew can answer, Evan says, "We ran all the tests. The heart in this man's body is a 99% match for Charles' heart. There's no way it could be anyone else's."

Evan reaches into his jacket and pulls out a neatly folded piece of paper. She steps forward and takes it from him, quickly scanning the test results. Unless Evan faked the results or bribed the doctors to lie, it seems what he's saying is true

"I understand if you don't believe me," Evan continues. "We can go to any hospital and ask any doctor to rerun the tests. Hell, if you want, we'll put this heart back in Charles' chest so you can see that it really is his. Just say the word, Avery."

Avery closes her eyes and tries to think. The room around her seems to be spinning. The panicked look on Andrew's face makes it clear that Evan is telling the truth, but it's all too much to process. Without thinking, she lunges forward and rips the weak man's shirt open. Buttons scatter and disappear among the rose petals, and she looks down at his bare chest. There's a long neat scar across the right side of his chest.

"Andrew, just tell me the truth," she whispers. "Do you have Charles' heart?"

Andrew steps forward and tries to take her hands, but she sidesteps him. For a moment, he looks like he's going to insist he has the heart, but then his shoulders sag, and a long sigh escapes his lips.

"You have to understand it's not so simple, Avery," Andrew says.

"But it is," she says. "You either have his heart, or you don't. And if you don't, you lied to me. You lied to me and tricked me, so I'd be with you."

Andrew shrugs, and the simple dismissive gesture makes her blood boil. She lunges forward and slaps him hard across the face: her palm stings, and the sound echoes throughout the church. The priest looks horrified, but Evan chuckles low in his throat.

"We're done, Andrew," she says. "I never loved you, and I'll never be with you."

"Listen to me, Avery," Andrew begins.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say," she snaps.

Evan reaches into his pocket and passes Avery a small silver pistol. She cocks it and hears the bullet click into place. With a deep breath, she raises the gun and squeezes the trigger. There's a loud bang, and then Andrew crumples to the floor, clutching his thigh.

"Consider yourself lucky I didn't shoot you in the heart," she says, lowering the gun.

Andrew groans with pain, but he drags himself to his feet. Blood flows freely from the bullet wound in his leg, and it stains his white suit dark red. Once on his feet, he tries to step toward Avery, but two bodyguards raise their guns and force him to stay where he is.

"Avery, I didn't mean to lie to you," Andrew says. He sees her raised eyebrows and continues, "At least not at first. I really did think I had Charles' heart. It's impossible to prove that it isn't."

"Spare me your pathetic excuses," she says. "You disgust me."

"Wait, Avery," Andrew screams, clutching at his chest as if he's in pain.

"Your fake little heart attacks won't work on me anymore," she says. "I swear to God, if you open your mouth again, I'll shoot. And this time, I might not aim for your leg."

For a moment, she stares him down, and then she tosses the gun to Robert and walks toward the church doors. Before she can make it even halfway down the aisle, Evan grabs her hand and pulls her toward a side room. The room is small and white, with a large stained glass window casting rainbow patterns on the floors and walls.

"What are you doing, Evan?" she asks.

"I'm taking you to get changed," he says.

It's only then that she sees the dress hanging against the wall. The rainbow light bounces off the diamonds and makes the pearls glow. Even the silk seems to shine like water in the brilliant light.

"Don't you like it?" he asks. "I had it specially made for you."

She raises a hand to stroke the beautiful dress and then lets it fall limp at her side. Her relief at the thought of leaving Andrew is suddenly replaced with worry. Does Evan mean to marry me today? She wonders. Is this even about me or about some sick competition between the two men?

"When I said you're mine, I meant it," Evan says, his voice low and rough. "I wasn't sure why you were with Andrew—if you truly loved him or if he had tricked you somehow. I tried everything to make you admit you didn't care for him, but you never would. I had to know, Avery. I looked for any dirt I could find on him, anything that might make you change your mind. Anything to convince you to leave him. Now, I see I was right—you never loved him."

He steps forward and tries to take her in his arms, but she dodges him. Her heart is hammering in her chest, and her head is spinning. It doesn't matter that he knows I don't love Andrew, she thinks. It doesn't prove that he cares about me—just that he cares about beating Andrew. He moves toward her again, and she steps to the side.

"What about Rebecca?" she asks.

"What about her?" Evan asks, confused in his voice.

"Well, she's your girlfriend," Avery says. "You're in love with her."

A self-mocking smile twists his mouth, and he asks, "Do you have any idea who she is?"

Avery shakes her head, "No."

"Well, it doesn't matter who she is," he says. "All you have to know is that she's basically a stranger to me. I made a deal with my grandfather to enter into a relationship with her, but there was nothing between us. You're the only one in my heart, Avery."

Avery stares at him in wonder. Questions swirl around in her mind, but she can't decide which to ask first. A loud knock at the door makes her jump, and she sees Evan scowl.

"What is it?" he asks.

"We have Andrew all tied up," Robert says through the door. "What do you want us to do with him?"

"Give him a VIP seat," Evan says.

"A VIP seat?" Avery asks.

Evan reaches forward and tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He smiles a devilish smile and nods.

"The cruelest punishment I can think of is to make him watch me marry you," he says.

Avery feels her heart sink. No matter what pretty things Evan says to her about his heart and his love, the wedding is just about beating Andrew and making him jealous. How stupid to think he'd changed, she thinks. He's just as possessive and petty as ever. They're both like two children fighting over a favorite toy.

She shakes her head and says, "I won't marry you."

His jaw clenches, and he asks, "Are you refusing me again?"