Page 14 of Pretender

[YEW]

[Lavish-Monkey] how do I say this without saying too much… someone I know says HE asked Katrina out

[Ziggy] I’ve never seen her at The Orion before btw

[Lavish-Monkey] REVEALS!! Careful @Ziggy or you’ll lose your job as The Orion’s toilet cleaner

[Ziggy] Funny. Excuse me while I go ROFLMAO

[thekatrinastarre] True story. You can watch the video where I talk about it on my YT page @thekatrinastarre

[thekatrinastarre] also to those who put me down and @YEW

[whathappensinmayfair] @thekatrinastarre oh hello

CHAPTER FOUR

entrapment

AIDEN

“I’d say ignore them,” Mark answers, but I shake my head in response.

I’m fucking sick of this blogger.

Those pictures of Katrina and me in the What Happens in Mayfair blog were an unpleasant surprise. I took her to a bar known for its understated luxury, and although it’s not a private club, it’s under the radar—a hidden gem. Well, it was, until the blogger linked it in their post, that wanker.

And the way they portray me, like some arsehole with an ulterior motive?

The worst part is, those photos were clearly taken by someone near us—inside the bar. What if the person who took those photos followed me later that night? If I become a liability to Le Lounge, they’ll cut my membership… Just the thought makes my skin crawl.

“Agree. Ignore them,” Sebastian adds. “That’s what I’ve been doing, and it seems they’re over me.” Sebastian swirls his glass of whiskey. The blogger was infatuated with Sebastian for a long time. Especially when with his various brunettes and the show they put on every weekend.

Unfortunately for Sebastian, the blogger might turn elsewhere, but the paparazzi will always keep an eye out for the last Vincent fortune heir, no matter what he does. I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with them as well.

Is he on to something, though? The blogger got bored with him, and they’re done with Mark. The last few months they’ve been watching me. Does it mean soon they’ll move on to something else? It’s a risk to assume.

“As a precautionary measure, I got Vic to source a private investigator for me.”

“That’s taking it a bit far, isn’t it?” Mark asks.

“Just protecting my business.”

Mark raises an eyebrow. “Why is Vic doing that for you? Isn’t he an event coordinator?”

“He has a fluid job description, and I trust him implicitly.”

Vic has worked with me since the very start of The Orion, but I’ve known him for nearly two decades—well before I branched out of property development and into Mayfair luxury establishments. He’s married to the photographer I modelled for at university. Vic would never risk our friendship, or his husband’s reputation with his celebrity clients, by leaking gossip.

I lean back into my red velvet armchair in the Diamond Members’ Lounge at The Orion. It’s quiet for a moment. Only the popping and crackling of wood in the Victorian-style fireplace beside us.

With the low number of Diamond members I allow, this is the least-frequented room in the club, which makes it the best place for frank conversation—personal or business—without eavesdroppers. This downtime with my friends is something I treasure. Although it’s not as often as it used to be. What happens when Mark gets married? Has children?

“Where’s Elliott tonight?” I ask.

His chair’s still empty. I’d like to hear what he has to say, considering he’s the one who suggested I try dating someone I hadn’t considered before.

In the past few months—with Mark living with his girlfriend, Rey, and Sebastian exercising all the time—Elliott has been my most reliable company here, and I appreciate his analytical mind and well-thought-out advice.