From a Wrong Turn to Mr. Right novel Chapter 378

“Everybody, stop right now!”

Her voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

The two men looked up, their hands stilled mid-destruction, glancing over at Carmen Gates.

With a flick of her wrist, Carmen signaled them to step aside. They moved to the wall, arms folded, watching.

Hilary glared at Carmen, fury bubbling up inside her. “Who the hell are you people? Who said you could wreck my place like this?”

Carmen tilted her chin up, eyes half-narrowed as she looked Hilary over. “Hilary, right?”

Just two syllables, but they dripped with cold, mean undertones.

Hilary faltered for half a second, studying Carmen. The longer she looked, the more off things felt.

She bit her lip, shifting her gaze uneasily.

Carmen let out a low, mocking laugh. “So, you do recognize me.”

There was a smugness in her tone, like she was standing on a pedestal looking down.

Hilary felt a twinge of guilt, but her pride flared up just as fast—she’d never thought much of Carmen anyway, and Carmen’s attitude now was plain infuriating.

Hilary squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. “Yeah, that’s me. Got something to say about it?”

She stared straight into Carmen’s eyes, throwing all the disdain right back at her.

Carmen’s presence seemed to grow even colder, the air between them crackling with tension. “Oh, I’ve got plenty to say. Let me show you.”

The anger inside Carmen was about to burst. Just looking at Hilary’s smug little face made her want to slap her.

And she did. Hard.

Hilary was still standing on the bottom step when Carmen lunged at her. The slap came out of nowhere, sending Hilary stumbling, crashing down onto the hardwood floor with a thud.

Her cry of pain mixed with the sound of the fall.

She’d landed hard, her back and hips slamming into the steps. Pain shot through her, making her scrunch up her usually composed face.

She didn’t have to say it twice. The men rushed over—one grabbed Hilary’s arm, then the other, yanking her away and tossing her aside like she weighed nothing.

Hilary struggled, but their grip was iron. She twisted and kicked, screaming at the top of her lungs, “Let me go! Get your hands off me!”

The men barely blinked, holding her fast, making Hilary look almost unhinged.

Carmen got to her feet, hair wild, cheeks flushed and bearing the clear imprint of Hilary’s hand.

She brushed her tangled hair from her face, spat on the floor, and stalked over to Hilary, step by step.

Fear flickered in Hilary’s eyes as Carmen drew closer. “You touch me again, and when Mason hears about this, he’ll—he’ll make you pay!”

The more Hilary threatened, the angrier Carmen got.

She grabbed Hilary by the hair, yanking her head back without an ounce of hesitation, and slapped her so hard it echoed through the room.

A bright red handprint bloomed on Hilary’s pale cheek.

Carmen sneered, chest heaving, and slapped her again. And again. And again.