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His Last Choice, My First Gambit Novel Cover

His Last Choice, My First Gambit

After surviving a lifetime of brutal abuse from her billionaire fiancé, who blamed her for his true love Lily's death, Coralie gets a second chance. In her previous life, he saved her only for show, punishing her endlessly for surviving. But when she wakes up back on the sinking yacht, she decides to rewrite her fate. Instead of begging for rescue, she steps back and lets him save Lily. By surrendering her spot on the life raft, Coralie initiates her ultimate gambit to secure her freedom.
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Chapter 2

Once they were swallowed by the wind and rain, I sprang into action.

Although the yacht was sinking fast, there were still useful things on board.

As water swamped the deck, I scrambled into the cabin and found the flare gun and first-aid kit. As a surgeon, I was always prepared for the worst on a sea voyage.

My foresight was finally paying off.

I grabbed a few energy bars and bottles of water, then found a large, floating piece of the hull to use as a makeshift raft.

When the yacht finally slipped beneath the waves, I took a deep breath, clung to the wreckage, and focused on conserving energy while I waited for rescue.

The Caribbean wasn't completely deserted; it was a popular route for wealthy yacht owners. I just had to be seen.

Unfortunately, it was the middle of the night. Even if a yacht were nearby, the roar of its engine would likely drown out my cries.

Despite this, I didn't give up. I paddled with all my might toward a possible shipping lane.

But fate seemed determined to work against me. The sea, relatively calm moments before, was now churning violently in the downpour.

It was just like the night Lily died in my past life. A torrential rain had begun, hampering rescue efforts and sealing her fate.

Unlike her, I wouldn't give up.

I clutched the piece of wreckage and kicked harder.

After drifting for what felt like an hour, I finally spotted a black superyacht slicing steadily through the storm ahead.

I immediately raised the flare gun and fired a flare in its direction.

"Help! Is anyone there? Please, help me..." The roaring downpour swallowed my cries.

My hope dwindled as the yacht forged on, oblivious to my plight. Despair began to creep in.

But I still didn't give up. I fired another flare.

"Is anyone there? Please, save me!"

Just as I was about to lose my last shred of hope, a searchlight swept across the water in my direction.

The light swept across the waves, searching.

He saw me! I was saved!

A wave of pure relief crashed over me, and I immediately swam towards the beam of light.

"Help! Please, save me!"

Using the last of my strength, I finally reached the side of the yacht. A rope ladder was quickly lowered the moment I got close.

Climbing it, I nearly slipped several times, my limbs shaking with exhaustion.

The moment my feet touched the deck, my legs gave out, and I collapsed.

But before my knees could hit the deck, a pair of strong arms caught me.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, thank you," I gasped, leaning against his solid chest, utterly spent.

The man frowned, then wordlessly swept me into his arms and carried me into the warm cabin.

He handed me a set of dry clothes. "Here. You're soaked. Get into these."

"Oh, thank you."

After he left, I quickly peeled off my wet dress. Everything had happened so fast, I hadn't even had time to change into something more practical for the sea.

Just as I finished changing, a knock came at the door. I opened it.

The man returned with a bowl of steaming broth and set it on the table before me.

Only then did I get a good look at him. He had chiseled features and a calm, powerful aura, like a soldier. But I was too hungry to dwell on it.

I devoured the soup before looking up to thank him properly.

"Hello, my name is Coralie Vance. Thank you so much for saving me."

He glanced at my still-damp hair and the gash on my arm from the wreckage. "I'm Julian Thorne. That wound needs to be treated."

He draped a towel over my head. "Let me get your hair, then we need to look at that wound."

I was a bit taken aback. "Huh?"

"There's a lot of bacteria in seawater. If you don't treat it, the wound could get infected."

"Okay, thank you."

He draped a towel over my head and gently began to dry my hair. Then he carefully applied antiseptic to my wound, preparing to stitch it.

I watched him, biting my lip. As his fingertips brushed my skin, a warmth I hadn't expected bloomed in my chest.

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