CHAPTER FIFTEEN – INVITATION TO THE YACHT

The taxi pulled to a stop with a screech of tires. Scarlett paid the driver, her heart hammering against her ribs. The Wellington port bustled with activity, massive shipping containers towering over her like metal giants. In the distance, the inky water reflected the twinkling lights of the city. Six men, all dressed in sharp tuxedos, stood out amidst the dockworkers in their overalls. They approached Scarlett, their faces emotionless. "Ms. O'Hara?" the one in the front spoke, his voice clipped. Scarlett swallowed nervously. "Yes, that's me." "We're here to escort you to Mr. Crawford," he said, gesturing for her to follow. Scarlett fell into step beside them, her questions dying in her throat as none of the men offered any explanation. The salty air stung her nostrils, and the rhythmic clanging from a nearby crane filled her ears. As they walked, she glimpsed a massive yacht docked at the pier, its gleaming white hull dwarfing the surrounding boats. They finally stopped before a