A collective gasp rang around the ballroom. Behind me, Jenny began to cry, and Sloan's murderous rage drilled into the side of my skull.

All I could do was stare at Stride in disbelief, in horror.

Me. Impossibly, he'd chosen me as his wife.

Stride continued to rave about me while I blinked out at the crowd as if they could help me.

Connolly, sitting at a table right in front of the stage, looked flabbergasted and bright red with rage. It had been Sloan all ...