From a Wrong Turn to Mr. Right novel Chapter 377

Lavinia Bennett nodded. “Alright.”

Carmen Gates barely looked at her, her mood foul. She waved a hand dismissively. “Go get some rest. Text me the address later.”

Lavinia hesitated, glancing at her, then stood and left. “I’ll send someone to clean up.”

The door clicked shut behind her.

Carmen’s lips twisted into a bitter, mocking smile, so sharp it hurt. She laughed, but the laughter turned to tears, wetting her cheeks.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, lost in her thoughts, before a knock sounded at the door.

“Olivia, Miss sent me to tidy up the room.”

The voice snapped Carmen out of her daze. She wiped her eyes, determination hardening inside her.

Mason Bennett…

If that’s how he wanted to play, then fine. Two could play that game.

He wanted to hand off The Bennett Group to someone else? As long as she was breathing, that would never happen.

—

A quiet suburb, late afternoon.

Hilary was upstairs, stretching into a yoga pose when the doorbell rang.

The housekeeper heard it and hurried to open the door.

Standing outside was a woman, dressed in expensive clothes, her posture radiating confidence—and maybe a touch of menace. Two large men flanked her, both built like linebackers, one with a scar running down his cheek.

The housekeeper’s hands trembled as she looked at Carmen Gates, swallowing nervously. She asked, almost in a whisper, “C-can I help you?”

Carmen peered inside, her gaze cool and assessing. From the foyer, she could see the place was empty—no sign of anyone else.

She turned her attention back to the housekeeper, her voice icy. “This Hilary’s place?”

The housekeeper faltered, unsure how to respond. But with those two men looming behind Carmen, she didn’t dare lie. She nodded. “Y-yes. And you are—?”

“That’s all I needed to know.”

But for a housekeeper, it was more than enough.

She shook her head frantically, waving her hands. “No, no, I won’t! I won’t call anyone!”

Carmen just nodded once. “Then get out.”

The housekeeper didn’t look back, not even for a second. She swallowed hard and bolted out the door.

Carmen strolled into the mess of a living room.

The two men didn’t hold back, smashing everything in sight—vases, framed photos, even the fancy espresso machine. In minutes, the room looked like a tornado had ripped through.

Carmen watched, feeling a rush of satisfaction.

“Don’t hold back,” she ordered.

The men grunted and doubled their efforts, wrecking the place with even more gusto.

Upstairs, Hilary finally realized something was wrong. She rushed down the staircase, only to stop dead at the bottom, eyes wide with shock at the scene before her.