Once Close, Now Strangers

The day I escaped, my body was battered and barely covered, bearing wounds and scars.

A swarm of reporters surrounded me, their camera flashes blinding my eyes. Some had even started live-streaming, spinning one outrageous headline after another.

“Heartthrob actor Luke Trainor’s Secret Lover: Reduced to a Plaything Just to Get Resources for Her Beloved.”

“Desperate Mistress Self-Harms to Pressure the Actor into Taking Responsibility.”

I stared at them blankly, watching as they twisted the truth, smearing my name. They even started filming my disheveled and miserable state with their cameras. Yet, I didn’t feel a single thing.

However, their actions grew increasingly outrageous. They ignored my injuries and shoved cameras directly into my face. Some even pushed me to the ground, trying to capture more revealing photos to fuel their sensational headlines.

Just then, I heard the sound of police sirens, and the officers dispersed the crowd. Immediately after, a masked man lifted me from the ground and carried me to a car. His name was Ian Somerset, Luke’s assistant.

As I curled up in the car seat, Ian draped his coat over me.

“Ms. Roland, Mr. Trainor is waiting for you at home.”

The pain in my stomach left me unable to respond, and sweat was breaking out on my forehead.

Noticing my condition, Ian hesitated before speaking again. “Ms. Roland, why don’t we head to the hospital first?”

I shook my head.

“I’m fine.”

Hearing that, Ian looked at me as if he had something to say but ultimately chose not to. He drove me to Luke’s private residence, a place very few people knew about.

Standing at the entrance, I heard the gentle music and bursts of cheerful laughter coming from inside. Hearing that, my hand clenched.

“Suzy Roland? I have no idea who that is.”

Well, of course. He was the nation’s heartthrob—an A-list celebrity with hundreds of millions of fans. And I? I was nothing more than an ordinary, insignificant person. How could I expect such a big shot to recognize me?

From the start, I had been nothing but a joke to him.

“Ms. Roland?”

Ian’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

When I entered the house, my eyes immediately landed on Luke. He was lounging on the sofa in his pajamas, his collarbone faintly visible, his posture effortlessly casual.

Though he was not doing anything, he looked like he had stepped right out of a high-fashion photoshoot. Compared to him, I was nothing but a filthy mess, reeking and repulsive.

“Mr. Trainor, Ms. Roland is back.”

Upon hearing Ian, Luke opened his eyes and looked at me. A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes. However, it quickly turned to ridicule.

“Suzy, did you just go for survival training in the wild?”

The corners of my lips tugged. I was trying to smile, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do it.

After the kidnappers abducted me, I called him, begging him to save me. Instead, he said he had no idea who I was and hung up. When I tried calling again, he had turned his phone off.

Just as I wanted to call someone else for help, I suddenly remembered something. For him, I had burned all my bridges with everyone.

Enraged by my cries for help, the men lashed out, kicking and punching me mercilessly. Worse still, they even took turns violating me.

My body could not endure it, leaving me bleeding heavily. As I lay on the cold, hard ground in utter despair, a harsh truth dawned on me: I meant nothing to Luke. I was just a fool, hopelessly clinging to a one-sided love.

To escape, I ran barefoot across rugged mountain paths. At night, I had to stay on high alert to watch out for wild wolves and animals lurking nearby.

Surviving in the wilderness? Well, his words were not that far off.

“Suzy, can’t you hear me?”

His impatient voice broke through, and he raised his eyebrow at me, irritated.

Lowering my gaze submissively, I murmured, “I’m sorry. I-I was just–”

“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear your excuses. You’ve caused me enough trouble today,” he said coldly.