Whispers cascaded from every direction like a swarm of needles piercing my skin. Heat flooded my cheeks while my chest felt crushed beneath an enormous weight, each breath a struggle. I had become a publicly exposed joke, my dignity ground to powder before this audience.
"Mrs. Morozov, are you quite well?" some lady inquired with false solicitude.
"Perfectly fine."
"Your gown is exquisite," another woman observed, studying my expression, "though Mr. Kholod and Miss Vance do appear rather... intimate?"
"They're friends."
"Friends?" Her smile turned knowing. "How enlightening."
I'd endured enough.
"Please excuse me a moment."
I pivoted, lifting my skirts, and navigated through the crowd with as much grace as I could summon. Each step brought the sensation of burning stares boring into my back. I reached a secluded corner of the hall, pressed myself against the wall, and drew a shuddering breath.
Damn you, Kholod Morozov.
"Care for a drink?"
A man's voice materialized beside me.
I looked up to find a man of perhaps forty standing nearby. He wore a rumpled gray suit, his hair slicked back with excessive precision, but his eyes held an unfocused quality, and alcohol fumes emanated from him.
"No, thank you."
"Don't be so standoffish," he said, edging closer with a smile. "Standing here all alone must be terribly lonely."
I frowned and shifted away. "I'd prefer to be left alone, if you don't mind."
"I'm James Thompson, vice president of the Real Estate Association..."
I attempted to leave, but he extended his arm, blocking my path.
"No need to rush off," he said. His gaze began traveling over mybody with increasing boldness. "That dress is absolutely stunning... and this figure, my God..."
My pulse quickened alarmingly.
"Please move aside."
He suddenly planted his clammy hand on my waist. "I merely want to chat. Don't be so unfriendly..."
"Get your hand off me!" I tried to push him away.
The restrictive gown hampered my movements—any forceful action risked the straps slipping from my shoulders.
"Keep your voice down," he breathed against my face, reeking of alcohol. "Everyone's watching Kholod and Miss Vance dance. No one's paying attention over here. Come now, let's get better acquainted..."
His hand began sliding lower, attempting to tug at my dress.
"I said let go of me!" I tried to kick him but found myself trapped by the mermaid silhouette.
His hands grew increasingly aggressive. I felt the side zipper being pulled apart, desperation and terror washing over me in waves. Just as I prepared to scream—
"Get away from her."
The voice cut through the air like ice. Before the man could react, powerful hands seized him and hurled him backward, sending him stumbling across the floor.
