Page 148 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Iris Ivy
When I drag my suitcase into the living room, Bobbi appears, looking concerned. “What’s going on?”
“I’m leaving.”
I pick up my purse and roll the suitcase to the door. When I open it, Yuna’s on the other side, Mr. Kim carrying a huge takeout bag that smells like Thai.
“Iris,” she says with a smile, which immediately dims as she notices my lip. “Oh my God, look at your mouth.”
She sounds so concerned, but I’m unmoved. Actually, I wish she’d stop. Were we ever even really friends? Why would a friend lie like that?
She glances down. “Where are you going? Did you and Tony have a fight?” She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Just give him time to apologize. Men always act stupidly.”
Of course. But she didn’t have to be part of that stupid act. Or take his side. “Lying bitch,” I say dispassionately.
Yuna pulls back, her spine stiffening. Mr. Kim stares, his jaw slack.
“I know everything,” I tell her.
“Iris—”
I’m sick of people Irising me. It’s a reminder of how stupid and gullible I am. “You know that isn’t my name.”
Her face slowly collapses, tears gathering in her eyes.
I look away, anger and frustration filling my heart to overflowing. Why do liars always act indignant or behave like victims when they get caught? I don’t have the patience or energy for either act. I walk into the waiting elevator, Bobbi following.
“Ivy,” Yuna says. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever come near me again,” I say.
The elevator closes.
* * *
Anthony
The door is ajar. Ivy didn’t bother to shut it.
She’s gone. The pressure in the bedroom drops. But that doesn’t ease the pain in my heart.
I’ll never forget her terrible face—the corpse-white skin, the blood on her lip, the glassy gray eyes. She knows I failed her… No, worse. I betrayed her. If she walks out of the building, she’s going to be out of my reach. She’s going to vanish.
I can’t let that happen.
Sudden urgency energizes me. I jump to my feet and rush out.
“Ivy!” Don’t let me be late. “Wait!”
I take four steps at a time on the penthouse stairs, not caring if I trip and break something. I’d gladly break every bone in my body if I could have her back.
“Tony.”
I stop at the teary voice. Yuna. Her face is tear-stained and blotchy. This is nothing like the pampered daughter of a wealthy Korean chaebol family.
Then I spot Mr. Kim standing beside her, holding a takeout bag. I swivel my head.
