Chapter 1
1417 Words
The cold sea breeze whipped through my hair as I stood on the beach, staring blankly at the ocean and the distant horizon like a scarecrow rooted in a field. My gaze was unfocused, my mind adrift.
After leaving the military, I managed to land a position at a company founded by the daughter of the president of Blackwell Group, one of the world's top-tier conglomerates. It was thanks to my exceptional skills that I got the job. Perhaps, I thought, this company could one day serve as a stepping stone for me to enter Blackwell Group.
This time, I joined my colleagues on a team-building trip, a cruise to explore the vast ocean. But things took a disastrous turn. The ship capsized, and a sudden storm nearly delivered me straight into the arms of the Grim Reaper.
"That was close," I muttered to myself. "Even during survival training in the military, it was never this dangerous." I couldn't help but marvel at my luck. Surviving such a major accident after leaving the army felt like a cruel joke.
I began searching the area, hoping to find other survivors.
Suddenly, a figure on the distant beach caught my eye. Could it be another colleague who had survived the shipwreck?
I hurried over, hoping they were still alive.
As I got closer, the figure became clearer. When I turned her over to see her face, I let out a startled cry. "Florence!"
I couldn't believe it. The first person I had rescued turned out to be Florence Blackwell, the CEO of the company I worked for.
The Blackwell Group's influence spanned the globe, and the company I worked for was just one of its many subsidiaries.
Florence, as the eldest daughter of the Blackwell Group's president, had been a prominent figure in the media over the past two years. Her sharp tongue and ruthless tactics had earned her a reputation as a formidable woman.
Rumor had it that her father clearly favored her younger brother as the successor to the family empire, forcing Florence to handle everything personally to prove herself.
This cruise had likely been her way of pushing the company forward. But no one could have predicted it would end in disaster.
Now, Florence lay unconscious in my arms. Her tailored business attire was torn in several places from the accident, revealing black lace undergarments beneath. It seemed that, to maintain her image as a strong, professional woman, she had chosen tightly fitted clothing. At this moment, however, her ample breasts looked as though they were straining against the constraints of her undergarments.
I blinked, stunned. I couldn't believe that beneath her cold, commanding exterior, she had such a voluptuous figure.
'Wait, what the hell am I thinking? I'm here to save lives!' I reminded myself.
Shaking off the inappropriate thought, I slapped myself and leaned down to check if she was breathing. I placed my fingers under her nose.
'No breathing.'
Recalling my military training, I immediately opened her mouth to ensure her airway was clear. Then, taking a deep breath, I began performing CPR and artificial respiration.
It didn't take long for her tightly shut eyes to snap open.
Florence looked at me like a startled kitten, her eyes wide with shock and fear.
I froze, about to explain the situation when her right hand suddenly swung toward me.
Smack!
Her slap landed squarely on my face.
Still dazed from the shipwreck and the slap, I barely had time to react before her sharp voice rang out.
"Arthur West, what the hell are you doing? This is s*xual harassment! My lawyer will be filing a lawsuit against you tomorrow!" she bellowed.
Florence glared at me, her eyes filled with anger and disgust as if she were staring at a common street thug.
In both Blackwell Group and her own company, no employee would have dared to even glance at her for too long.
"Our ship went down. The fact that we're even alive is a miracle. You'd better focus on surviving and getting back to civilization before thinking about suing me!" I snapped back. "I was performing CPR on you just now. Maybe take a good look around before you start throwing accusations."
Hearing my words, Florence followed the direction of my pointing finger. Her gaze finally landed on the endless expanse of ocean stretching before us. Debris from the shipwreck occasionally washed ashore with the waves.
"Are you saying... we can't go back?" Florence's voice trembled slightly, a stark contrast to her usual commanding tone.
"We don't even know where we are. How do you expect us to go back?" I said with a sigh, still annoyed about the slap. "Forget it. Take care of yourself."
I turned away from her shocked expression and began scanning the beach for stones. I needed to spell out an "SOS" signal in the sand.
By the time I placed the last stone, the sun was already sinking below the horizon.
The damp, cold sea breeze chilled me to the bone, and hunger gnawed at my stomach.
"Night temperatures on an island can drop significantly," I muttered to myself. "I need to start a fire for warmth and prepare for any wild animals that might be lurking here."
Drawing on the survival skills I had learned in the military, I immediately began gathering dry branches, grass, and leaves, along with a few relatively dry stones I'd found nearby.
Florence, meanwhile, watched me move back and forth, busy with my tasks. She adjusted her torn clothes, trying to cover herself as much as possible. Then, in her usual tone, though slightly forced, she asked, "Arthur, what are you doing?"
I held two stones in my hands, striking them against the haystack as I explained, "I had survival training in the military. These are basic skills. Both of our clothes are wet, and we need to dry them quickly, or we'll catch a cold."
After a few tries, a small fire finally sparked to life under my efforts.
"Your lips are still pale. You should sit by the fire, warm yourself up, and dry your clothes first," I said, glancing at Florence. "It might rain or get windy tonight, so I need to gather some materials to build a tent and see if I can find any wild fruits to eat."
With that, I turned and walked away from the fire.
Before long, I managed to find some edible berries and a few sturdy branches. When I returned to the fire, I began setting up a simple tent nearby.
"I need to dry my clothes too," I said, taking off my shirt and hanging it on a nearby branch.
Florence's eyes flicked to my toned upper body, then quickly dropped to her own thin spaghetti-strap dress. She tugged at the fabric instinctively, trying to cover herself as much as she could.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest beneath the dress.
My gaze briefly traveled further down, taking in her slender waist, peach-shaped booty, and long, toned legs still wrapped in nude-colored pantyhose.
To break the awkward tension, I smiled at her and said, "Don't pull too hard. If you snap the straps by accident, that'd be even more embarrassing."
After speaking, I took out the berries I had just picked and held them out to her.
Florence eyed the colorful berries in my hand warily and immediately shook her head. "These berries don't look safe."
I sighed as I looked at these edible berries before me, knowing an explanation wouldn't convince her. Instead, I wiped my hands clean and began eating the berries one by one in front of her.
When Florence saw that I showed no signs of poisoning after eating several of them, her tense expression eased. Hesitantly, she picked up a berry and began eating as well.
After we finished the berries and relaxed by the fire, Florence suddenly shifted uncomfortably. She pressed a hand to her stomach and glanced at me, who was still calmly eating. Without saying a word, she stood up and walked off into the distance, probably due to the call of nature.
I watched her retreating figure, her long legs moving gracefully as she disappeared into the shadows. For a brief moment, I couldn't help but think about when—or if—we'd ever escape this situation.
Suddenly, a sharp cry for help broke through the quiet night.
"Help!"
- Writer
