The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy - Page 296

“And you’re blaming Charlie for this?” Astrid shook her head, not seeing her father’s logic.

“No. I am blaming you. Your actions, however unconsciously, have led to this. If you had never gotten entangled with these people, our lives would not now be under the spotlight.”

“Come on, Dad, you’re making a mountain out of a mole—”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND DON’T INTERRUPT ME WHEN I’M TALKING!” Harry banged his fist on the table, startling both Astrid and her mother. Neither of them could recall the last time he had raised his voice like this.

“You have completely exposed yourself! And you have exposed and compromised your family! For more than two hundred years our business interests have never been scrutinized, but now they will be. Don’t you see how this affects you? I don’t think you truly realize how much damage has been done, not just to us but to your mother’s side. The Shangs were mentioned. Tyersall Park was mentioned. And all at the most inopportune time possible, when your grandmother is so ill. Tell me how you plan to face Uncle Alfred when he arrives this afternoon?”

Astrid was momentarily dumbfounded. She hadn’t thought about the repercussions of this gossip site, but she finally said, “I will face Uncle Alfred myself if that’s what you want me to do. I’ll explain everything that happened.”

“Well, you can thank your lucky stars you won’t have to. This column and this whole ridiculous website have been taken down.”

Astrid looked at her father, momentarily surprised. “This article is really gone?”

“Erased from the face of this planet! Although enough damage has been done—there’s no telling how many people must have read this rubbish before it was taken down.”

“Well, hopefully the exposure will be minimal. Thanks, Dad—thank you for doing this,” Astrid muttered in relief.

“Oh I had nothing to do with this—thank your husband.”

“Michael had it taken down?”

“Yes. He bought the company that owns this infernal website and put an end to all of the nonsense. It’s probably the first useful thing Michael has ever done to protect you. Which is far more than I can say for Charlie Wu!”

Astrid sat back in her chair, feeling her face flush with anger. This was all Michael’s doing. He must have alerted her parents to this gossip column in the first place, and of course he was only too happy to alert them that he’d saved the day. Hell, he was probably Leonardo Lai’s “Singapore insider,” relishing his chance to sabotage Charlie, to sabotage her.

* * *

* Cathleen Kah Leong, the wife of Harry and Felicity Leong’s eldest son, Henry, takes great pride in her thrift. A partner at Singapore’s most esteemed law firm, she takes the public bus to work every day. A granddaughter of the late banking tycoon Kah Chin Kee, she uses a plastic bag from the local neighborhood gourmet grocers to transport her legal briefs when she could well afford to buy Goyard. (Not a nice Goyard leather tote bag—I mean Goyard, the company.)

CHAPTER SEVEN

19 WEST FOURTH STREET, NEW YORK

Rachel was in her office suite at New York University, splitting a piece of German chocolate cake from Amy’s Bread with her suitemate, Sylvia Wong-Swartz, when her mother called.

“Hey, Mom! How’s Panama?” Rachel answered in Mandarin. Her mother was on a Chu family reunion cruise through the Panama Canal.

“I don’t know. I haven’t left the ship,” Kerry Chu replied.

“You guys have been cruising for four days now and you haven’t docked once?”

“No, no, the ship has docked but we’ve never gotten off. No one wants to leave the boat. Auntie Jin and Auntie Flora want to get their money’s worth, so they just sit and stuff their mouths at the all-you-can-eat buffet all day long, and of course Uncle Ray and Uncle Walt aren’t speaking to each other again. So they’re both at the casino, but at opposite ends. Walt is at the blackjack tables, and supposedly Ray is losing his shirt at baccarat but won’t stop playing.”

“Well, Uncle Ray can afford it.” Rachel chuckled. She was so glad she decided to skip this family reunion.

“Ha! Yes. You should see that wife of his! She changes outfits four times a day, and every night it’s a different ball gown and different jewelry. I don’t know where she thinks she is—this is a cruise ship, not the Oscars.”

“Auntie Belinda is just doing what she loves, Mom.”

“She’s trying to rub it in all our faces, that’s what she’s doing! And of course, your cousin Vivian has to ask her what she’s wearing every time, and Belinda always says something like, ‘Oh, this one I bought in Toronto at Holt Renfrew, or this is a Liberace—I bought it on sale. It was $7,500, marked down to $3,000.’?”

“Liberace? I don’t think he ever designed clothes, Mom.”

“You know that Italian designer, the one that got shot in Miami.”

“Oh, you mean Versace.”

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