Chapter 117 Punishment...
Chapter 117 Punishment...
Unbelievable.
I just stared at this idiot in silence, then jerked my chin, signaling the guys to drag the rat toward the middle of the bridge.
The Kryukivsky Bridge—an excellent local landmark and a favorite spot among certain suicidal personalities.
It was already deep night, and we had temporarily blocked off the road from both sides.
“Mila, Mila,” I exhaled, shaking my head as we walked to our chosen spot. “I warned you…”
“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you’re this pissed off over that girl?”
“Not ‘that girl,’” I snarled, grabbing the bitch by her long hair. “My wife. The woman I love.”
“I don’t get it! What does she have that I don’t?!” she hissed, spitting venom. “I love you too! You want me to sew my virginity back? Fine! Want me to be an innocent little nun? Fine! Want me to have your kids?! I’ll do anything! What do you want from me?!” she broke down into hysterics—but I couldn’t care less.
“You’re simply not her.”
I gave the signal, and they untied her hands.
“Yes, I’m not her! I’m better!” she shrieked. “No one will ever please you the way I did!”
Now that was such a ridiculous claim that I burst out laughing. Her arrogance truly knew no bounds.
“You’d be surprised at how fast Vicky picked up certain techniques that even hookers don’t master right away. But that’s not why we’re here. Misha,” I ordered my head of security.
Misha grabbed the trash by the scruff of the neck and swung her over the bridge railing. Mila started shrieking, sobbing, screaming—but my guy held the brunette upside down over the river with effortless ease, not even breaking a sweat.
“So… Mila…”
I leaned on the rail, folding my arms as if admiring the lovely night view over the Dnipro.
“You’re lucky tonight. Vicky told me she loves me, and I’m in a generous mood. This is the last kindness you’ll ever get from me. Your limit was blown long ago. And from now on, you don’t even look in Vicky’s direction. Or mine. Or my children’s. Not even from afar. If I catch even a hint of your stare—”
I paused for effect.
“—you’ll get swimming lessons in the Dnipro with a concrete backpack tied to your neck.
Or we could take a scenic ride to the local granite quarry. Ooh! Actually—an idea just hit me!” I brightened, energized by my own imagination. “I could send you on an unforgettable trip to Kryvyi Rih! It’s not far at all—and you’ll remember it for the rest of your very short life. I heard their quarries are simply magnificent! Mmm. Gorgeous. They might never find your body under tons of stone. And that’s… assuming anyone even bothers to look. Or should we go there right now?” I asked the wailing mess dangling upside down.
“I understand! I understand!!!” the little rat howled, choking on her sobs.
I nodded to Misha, and he hauled the brat back onto the bridge.
The brunette was shaking violently now. She sobbed and hiccupped, her face a ruined smear of mascara, tears, snot, and spit. She stared at me and Nazar with pure, unfiltered terror—but especially at Misha.
“Lovely,” I said, staring her down with a hard, empty gaze. Not a hint of a smile. “And for your own sake, let’s hope our paths never cross again. Otherwise… well, you heard the options.”
Nodding like a broken bobblehead, the girl staggered backward—then bolted at full speed.
“Ahh, I’ve been to those quarries,” Misha said dreamily, lighting a cigarette and gazing out at the river. “Beautiful place.”