Love's Deadly Second Chance

The salt spray felt the same on my skin, a cold, familiar mist.

I stood on the deck of my private yacht, the Serenity, watching the turquoise water churn below.

This was where I died.

Not in a hospital bed, not in a car crash, but right here, in the middle of the ocean, because of the two people I thought I loved most – my fiancée, Chloe, and her precious artist, Alex.

The memory wasn' t a dream; it was a scar.

Pirates swarmed the deck, their jeering laughter echoing alongside Chloe' s cool, distant voice, telling them to hurry up.

She had a dinner reservation.