THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: Marry To Rival's Son novel Chapter 181

Chapter 181 

“Then there’s no need covering my face if I’m not going to leave here alive,” Mia said, her voice steadier than she felt. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but she kept her expression calm, controlled. 

“I just need to know my mom is okay. You’ll let her go, then I’ll give you what you want.” She shifted the bag on her shoulder, feeling the weight of the documents that could destroy everything Stefan had built. 

“I already know you won’t let me leave here alive, and I also know whoever sent you wants this file in my hands the same way they want me dead.” She paused, letting that sink in. “Even though you get this file, it’ll be useless unless I make it work.” 

The man’s smile faltered slightly. “And you think I can’t make you do it?” 

“I’m not sure you understand what’s going on here,” Mia said, looking at him with a controlled smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You can call your boss and ask him to explain what I’m saying.” 

She knew she was walking into danger, knew exactly why she’d been asked to come here, but she wouldn’t give up without a fight. 

They wanted to kill her and Stefan both, but not if she got them first. No one hurt any member of her family and walked away free. 

The guy stepped closer, his hand reaching out like he was going to cup her face or grab her arm, but Mia moved slightly, signaling she could walk on her own. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of manhandling her. 

They both walked toward the alley where empty container lay around, him looking around constantly, checking corners and shadows to make sure no one had followed. But Mia was looking too calm, too collected, like she had everything under control. 

This wasn’t his first job. Hell, it wasn’t even his tenth. But no one had ever had that look on their face when they knew they were walking toward their death. Most people begged, cried, tried to run. This woman looked like she was going to a business meeting. 

“You better not try anything stupid,” he growled, his hand moving to the gun tucked in his waistband. “If you do, I’ll blow your brains out right here.” 

Mia smiled – actually smiled. “You’re the one who has my mom. I’m defenseless. What can I do?” 

But there was no fear on her face. No trembling hands, no tears, no desperate pleas for mercy. Just that same calm expression that was starting to unnerve him. 

“No matter what you feel or think, you’re not ever leaving here alive,” he said, trying to regain control of the situation. 

“I know. I know.” Mia’s voice was almost sing-song, like she was agreeing to something as simple as the weather forecast. 

The guy couldn’t help but wonder how she wasn’t scared of death. Everyone was scared of dying. It was human nature. Fear kept people alive, made them fight, made them beg. But this woman was acting like she’d already accepted it. 

“You might be wondering if I’m not scared of death,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. She found an old wooden chair near the entrance and sat down, crossing her legs like she was settling in for a long conversation. 

“What? If I’m going to die, then I need to be comfortable before I die. My father would want that too.” She said it with such casual indifference that the kidnapper raised his yebrows. 

Mia smiled, but it was the saddest smile he’d ever seen. 

“I know my dad sent you. What kind of father would want to kill his child?” She gave a bitter laugh that echoed off the walls. “So tell me, why would I want to continue living There’s no point. Because every day I’d be reminded that my own father is after my life.” 

Mia’s eyebrows shot up. Her father had another wife she wasn’t aware of? 

Her mind raced through possibilities, through half-remembered conversations and family stories. 

The smile spreading across the kidnapper’s face made her knees go weak. It was the smile of someone about to deliver a killing blow, the expression of a man who knew he was about to destroy whatever was left of her world. 

No. No, no, no. It couldn’t be true. Whatever he was about to say, it wasn’t true. Her father wouldn’t do such a thing. 1 

He had loved her mother too much to kill her. 

“She found out he was cheating and wanted to leave him. Should I tell you how he killed her?” 

The words hit Mia like physical blows. Her hands flew up to cover her ears, her whole body rejecting what she was hearing. “No,” she whispered. “No, I don’t want to hear it. 

But the man was enjoying this too much to stop now. He’d found her breaking point, the one thing that could shatter her calm facade. 

“She was so beautiful,” he continued, his voice taking on a dreamy quality that made Mia’s skin crawl. “I saw the photos. You look exactly like her, do you know that?” 

“Stop,” Mia said, but her voice barely audible.