The Pretender and The Prince novel Chapter 2

He had no idea that Ondine was standing right in front of him.

The mascot costume was heavy and suffocating, and Ondine felt like she couldn’t breathe. It was as if her heart had been ripped open, leaving a raw, bleeding wound of unbearable agony.

Just then, someone else spoke up. “So, Ellis, does this mean you’re going to keep her in the dark?”

Ellis’s expression hardened. “I’m not done having my fun yet. If any of you dare say a word to Ondine, don’t blame me for what happens next.”

“Still,” another guy chimed in, “you’ve got to admit, even if Ondine’s poor, she’s a real knockout. Pale skin, gorgeous face, amazing body… I’d be tempted myself. You’ve got good taste, Ellis.”

“Of course.” Ellis smirked and took a sip of his red wine. “I might be playing around, but I don’t waste my time on ugly girls.”

“You’ve been with her for two years. You must’ve slept with her by now, right?”

“Not yet.” Ellis scoffed. “I’m just messing with her. Why would I touch her? Girls from poor families like that get attached way too easily. If I took her to bed, I’d never be able to get rid of her. Too much trouble.”

The group erupted in laughter.

Ondine’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. All she could taste was blood; she’d bitten her lip so hard it had split.

One of the guys drawled, “Well, when you’re tired of her, how about you pass her my way? If you won’t sleep with her, I will. A girl that beautiful? It’d be a crime not to.”

Ellis’s face went dark. His eyes, cold and sharp as knives, shot toward the speaker. Sensing the shift in mood, the man quickly backpedaled. “Hey, don’t get mad, Ellis. I was just joking.”

“I’m warning you,” Ellis said, his voice low and deliberate, each word a threat. “If you so much as touch Ondine, I’ll destroy you.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, Ellis! I wouldn’t dare.”

Just then, the door to the private room swung open, and a woman who looked every bit the heiress walked in. She was dressed in a chic Chanel suit, her chestnut-brown hair styled in glamorous waves.

“What’s all the chatter about?” she asked, smiling as she walked over and sat down beside Ellis.

Ellis’s expression softened instantly. “Look who decided to show up,” he said, a playful pout in his voice. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me.”

His words jolted Ondine back to reality. Before she’d left, her roommate, Yasmeen, had begged her to do a good job with this gig. If she messed it up, not only would she not get paid, but Yasmeen would be fired from the club.

Swallowing the agony and humiliation, Ondine forced herself to play the clown for her boyfriend as he tried to win back another woman.

As she moved, she saw Ellis pull the woman into his arms and kiss her again. They were lost in each other, clinging together like a couple deeply in love.

Tears streamed down Ondine’s face, hot and unstoppable. In that moment, she knew that the real clown wasn’t the costume—it was her.

Ondine didn’t remember how she got out of the club. The December air in Riverdale City was already frigid, and a cold rain had begun to fall. A damp, biting wind snaked its way into her collar and cuffs, but she barely felt the chill. She just walked aimlessly through the rain, a lost soul wandering the empty streets.

Her phone vibrated several times before she finally, numbly, pulled it out.

It was her neighbor, Wanda. Ondine answered woodenly.

“Ondine, you need to come home right now! Something’s happened to your mother!”