The crew member freezes, his grip still tight on the desperate man's arm. Water continues dripping from the stranger's soaked clothes onto the yacht's pristine deck.
Alistair rises from his chair with deliberate slowness. His eyes study the trembling figure with calculating interest.
"Let him go," he commands.
The crew member reluctantly releases his hold. The wet man stumbles forward, nearly collapsing from exhaustion and desperation.
"Thank you," he gasps. "Thank you so much."
Scarlett hurries back toward us, phone still in hand. "What's happening? Who is this man?"
"Someone who understands the value of opportunity," Alistair says smoothly. His earlier anger has transformed into something more predatory. "Tell me your name."
"Oscar," the man pants. "Oscar Chen."
"Well, Oscar Chen." Alistair circles him like a shark sensing blood. "You mentioned needing twenty thousand dollars for your daughter's surgery."
