Chapter 2
The crew members on set started cheering and applauding. Chloe James shyly nestled into Ethan Chase’s embrace.
“Oh, come on, everyone. There’s really nothing between Chase and me,” she said coyly.
Chase didn’t respond or offer any explanation, but his arms tightened around Chloe James.
I used all my strength to push away the wooden frame pressing against my calf and pulled out the splinters embedded in
my flesh. I limped away from the scene.
After cleaning my wounds in a secluded spot, I returned to the filming location to find everyone had left.
Endless darkness surrounded me, punctuated by the howls of fierce beasts.
I curled my battered body into a ball, clutching a tree branch as I hid on a stone stump beneath a large tree, staying alert
throughout the night.
It wasn’t until daybreak that I staggered down the mountain on foot.
Halfway down, my phone finally got a signal. Chase called, berating me:
“Samantha Hayes, you’ve really outdone yourself! Not answering my calls and disappearing without a trace!
“Chloe got bitten by mosquitoes while filming last night. Go to the hospital and get her some medicine right away!”
As this year’s Most Popular Actress in Hollywood, Chloe James had always been adored by fans for her unpretentious
personality.
Everyone knew she never hired a personal assistant, always doing things herself.
But no one knew that all of Chloe James’s daily affairs were managed by Chase, who in turn ordered me to do everything.
Seeing my silence, Chase quickly lost patience:
“Samantha, are you deaf? I’m giving you half an hour. Get your ass to the set now!”
“Chase, I’m on the mountain,” I said.
The other end of the line went quiet for several seconds before he spoke:
“You spent the night on the mountain? Alone?”
Looking around, I still felt like a pair of bloodshot beast eyes were lurking behind a tree, watching me intently.
The highly strung cord in my mind suddenly snapped at that moment, and belated tears of fear welled up in my eyes.
Chase’s tone softened considerably:
“Stay where you are. Don’t move. I’ll come get you. I should be there in about an hour.”
The sun blazed overhead as one hour passed, then another.
I still hadn’t seen any sign of Chase.
Dragging my broken body, I made my way back to the set.
When Chase entered the tent, I had just finished a phone interview with the New Assistant.
His gaze lingered coldly on my phone as he asked in a low, demanding tone:
“Samantha, who were you talking to?”
I replied nonchalantly, “No one you know.”
Chase naturally assumed it was an unfamiliar scam call.
He didn’t press further, and I didn’t explain.
“Saw you were hungry, so I brought this specially for you.”
Chase slammed a takeout box onto the camping table.
The partially visible contents of the box were nothing but leftovers, occasionally wafting out a rancid smell.
Chase quickly put the box away and cleared his throat, saying:
“There were too many people getting takeout. They must have given me the wrong one.”
But who among those sitting at a table with a famous actor wouldn’t be a big name themselves? Who would really make
such a mistake?
