Viktoria POV
Kyra gave me the nastiest scowl I’ve ever seen on a human face before she stalked toward Elon and me. We were only standing quietly at the side, observing the flow of elegantly dressed guests drifting across the ballroom like polished ornaments. But the moment Kyra’s eyes landed on me, I felt stripped bare.
“The guests will be moved to the next hall for dinner,” she said. “But Viktoria isn’t dressed for the ball after that. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask her to leave.”
For a moment, I didn't understand the words. Leave? Me? Elon immediately stepped in, explaining that I can’t leave, that he already—
Kyra whipped her glare at him. “You didn’t tell the valet you were attending the ball with an escort. My word is final. She must leave so she doesn’t ruin the party. B
