Page 159 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
Chapter Sixty-Four
Ivy
When I open my eyes the next day, it’s too bright out, and I shriek with panic. I know I overslept without having to check the time.
This is all Yuna’s fault! She called twenty times last night, and I had to turn off my phone, so I could drink my wine in peace after Hanon. Then I fell asleep on the couch. Unfortunately, my phone also serves as my alarm. And it stayed off the entire night.
I rush out of the apartment, Bobbi in tow. I compressed my morning routine as much as possible, but I’m still running fifteen minutes late.
“Do you think you can drive a little bit faster today?” I ask as we hurry down the steps.
“Speed limit’s the speed limit.”
“But I’m late, and nobody drives that slow! TJ certainly doesn’t. Where’s the car?” Crap, crap, crap!
“There. I had to park down the street a little. You know how many tickets he’s had?”
“If you get pulled over, just flash your most charming smile.”
In response, she bares her teeth in a grin Jack the Ripper must’ve worn when he was stalking his victims.
She’s not going to do it. Great. Grumbling under my breath, I open the passenger door, about to hop in.
“Wait! Stop right there!”
The hair on the back of my neck bristles. I don’t need to turn my head to know it’s Yuna heading our way, but I can’t help but look.
In a pink designer dress, she’s running straight for me, her feet in sneakers, rather than her usual high heels. She’s holding a wide-brimmed hat down with one hand so it doesn’t fly away. Mr. Kim is right behind her, easily keeping up in his suit and loafers.
No way, especially not today, not when I’m running late. “There’s no time for this. Let’s go,” I tell Bobbi.
Nodding, she opens the driver’s-side door.
“Stop her!” Yuna points a finger at Bobbi.
Mr. Kim accelerates like a bullet. I stare at the man, my jaw slack. Although Yuna threatened to use him to hold me down so she could shovel food down my throat, I’ve never expected her to actually unleash him. On Bobbi of all people.
He grabs for Bobbi, so she can’t get behind the wheel. She does something with her hands and he misses his grip; she turns and pushes him away. But he doesn’t go down. Instead, he goes after her again, warier now but determined to keep her out of the car.
Yuna finally stops when she’s three steps away from me, gasping for air. “Finally!”
“Using Mr. Kim to beat up a woman is rude,” I say, my gaze gliding toward Bobbi briefly—to make sure she’s defending herself from Mr. Kim—then back to Yuna.
She glances at the two of them. “Bobbi looks like she can handle herself.”
“Make him stop.”
“No.”
This is ridiculous. “Call off your man, and I’ll ask Bobbi to let him live.”
Yuna looks at me for a second, then says something to Mr. Kim in Korean. He immediately backs off, and so does Bobbi.
Yuna turns to me. “I have to talk to you.”
I cross my arms across my chest. “I’m late for work.”
“I’ll donate a hundred thousand dollars to the foundation if you give me ten minutes.”
