A frown settled on Irene’s face when she heard Ivy. A low chuckle escaped her lips as she stared at her incredulously. “What are you talking about? Drugged? When did I ever drug you…”
Ivy didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on her as if willing her to admit to it. While they continued their staring match, Ivy’s heart thudded slightly while her mind raced, trying to ascertain what Irene might be thinking.
Finally, after a few seconds of strained silence, Irene broke the impasse, her voice laced with defiance. “Okay, I admit. I did drug you. So what are you gonna do…”
Ivy’s expression remained unreadable, but inwardly her heart twisted with overwhelming emotions. As if betraying her wasn’t enough, she continuously tried to ruin her career at any chance she got, but now she had gone overboard.
“Why?” Ivy asked, her voice barely audible. “What was your malicious reason for doing that…”
“And why are you asking me that? Stop pretending to be oblivious; you know the reason…” Irene replied, eyeing her in contempt.
Upon hearing Irene’s response, Ivy teetered, not knowing whether to press on with the same subject or tread lightly with her wily questions. Although Irene had admitted to the drugging, Ivy wasn’t sure which drugging incident Irene was referring to: the one at the restaurant some time ago or the recent one.
“Despite failing on the first attempt, why did you try drugging me again?” Ivy asked, ambiguously referring to the recent drugging incident.
Irene’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Drugging you again? What exactly do you mean?”
Ivy bit her lip, her heart racing. “You know what I mean…” she responded, masking her voice with confidence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Irene spat, then her eyebrow raised in sudden realization. “Why does this seem more like an interrogation?”
Ivy’s heart skipped a beat; she held her breath, trying to act all calm and collected. “I’m…” She paused, thinking of a good reply to avoid sounding suspicious. While she teetered, a faint voice from her earpiece sounded, prompting her on what to say.
“I’m here for an open conversation, not an interrogation…” Ivy’s eyes were fixed on her as she spoke, trying to hide her hidden agenda. “I called you here because I wanted to understand you more. Well, I guess I have now understood why you hate me so badly. It’s all about me trusting in Father. I initially thought it was something else…” She paused before adding, “We are siblings; we are supposed to stick together, not fight. We have been through a lot in our lives…”
“Cut the crap…” Irene snapped, interrupting her speech that seemed like rambling in her ears. “I thought you said you didn’t come here to settle our differences; you are clearly going towards that path…”
Ivy averted her eyes, inwardly racking her brains on how to continue the ruse of conversation.
Irene, upon sensing her speechlessness, lost the will to continue the worthless conversation. She picked up her purse from the table, attempting to stand, but Ivy’s sudden question caught her off guard.
“Do you hate me to the extent you want me dead?” Ivy asked, her gaze fierce yet flashing with hurt. “Has your hatred gotten to the point you’re ready to do anything to get rid of me…”
Irene didn’t know how to respond to her words; she was still taken aback by the abrupt question and change of subject.
Ivy’s eyes were still locked on hers, unwilling to look away while Irene, on the other hand, was baffled. After a few seconds, she finally responded with a hint of exasperation in her voice. “Ivy, I hate you, but if death seems to follow you, I really don’t care, but surely you won’t get it from me…”
With that, Irene turned around to leave, but Ivy’s next words made her halt.
“You still haven’t told me your motives for drugging me, Irene… I have been silent since then without taking action… But if you want me to retaliate, be my guest…” Ivy said, her voice firm as steel.
Irene turned to face Ivy, her voice filled with contempt. “Is it? You want to retaliate? I’d like to see you try. You know it was becoming one-sided; fighting back will make it more… interesting.” She drawled, her lips curving up with a mischievous smirk.
Ivy rose from her seat, her eyes flashing with defiance. “You’ll regret everything you’ve done to me…”
Irene chuckled, her voice dripping with malice. “Ivy, what have I done exactly…” she asked, tapping her palm with her fingers in a slow and steady rhythm. “Stole the love of your life? Mimicked your face? And what again… Nothing else. I haven’t started yet, Ivy… you’ll know when I’ll stop, and that’s when you get what you deserve…”
Ivy’s lips twitched, inwardly seething. She was so tempted to bark at her, to tell her what a hell of a sister she was, but she composed herself to avoid revealing her true intentions behind their conversation. She let out a silent sigh, calming her emotions. “Tell me, what will make you stop? Is it until you see me dead? Is that when you’ll finally be satisfied?”
Irene rolled her eyes, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Sis, you’re pathetic…” She hung her purse over her shoulder, making her way to the door.
“Irene…” Ivy called, her voice barely above a whisper. “There’s one thing I want to know and never forget…”
Irene raised her eyebrow, pretending to be intrigued. “And what is it?” She tilted her head, batting her lashes slightly while awaiting her response.
Ivy exhaled deeply, knowing fully well what would follow when she released her next words from her lips. “Father didn’t murder our mother; she died of asthma… don’t blemish his name; allow him to rest… in peace…”
Irene’s face darkened in an instant, her anger rising. Like a fiery lioness, she shortened the distance between them. “Say that again and I’ll rip out your tongue.”
Ivy’s lips curled up, her expression unreadable with a hint of menace. “Father is not a murderer…”
‘PAK!’ Irene unleashed her shimmering anger with all her might and slapped Ivy across the face.
Ivy flinched, her hand on her cheek as she stared at Irene, wide-eyed.
However, she wasn’t the only one who reacted to the impact.
A few meters away from the bistro was a limo perched up at the corner of the road. Inside were Zack and the two detectives, their eyes pinned to the iPad monitoring the actions taking place inside the restaurant.
Zack’s fist clenched tightly, his fingers digging into his flesh as he watched his wife standing with her hand on her cheek. Her eyes darkened by the second as he hated to see his wife helpless, vulnerable, and defenseless. He hated the fact that she had to go through all this to pull out the knife stuck in her back. He was against the idea of her risking so much to fish out the perpetrator.
He was even more annoyed by Irene’s savage behavior. How dare she slap his wife… doesn’t she have any fear of him?
He had been silently letting her do as she pleased since he and Ivy got married. As much as he wanted to teach her a lesson on Ivy’s behalf, he never did because he trusted his wife’s way of handling things.
But now, he wasn’t so sure he would continue allowing Irene to have her way… He would love to balance the scales.