The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

“We’re calling security—you need to get off the premises right now!”

By this point, Rachel was beside him. Nick glanced at her quickly in concern, and Rachel smiled at him reassuringly. “Hello, Mrs. Young,” she said, finding a renewed confidence in her voice.

“Hello, Rachel. Can we please speak somewhere private?” Eleanor asked.

“No, Rachel is not speaking to you in private! Haven’t you already done enough?” Nick interjected.

“Alamak, I’ll pay to have everything fixed. Actually, you should be thanking me that rickety bamboo thing came down—that was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Listen to me, I’m really not here to ruin your wedding. I came here to ask for your forgiveness. I want to give you my blessing.”

“It’s a bit late for that. Please just LEAVE US ALONE!”

“Trust me, I know where I’m not wanted, and I will gladly leave. But I felt that I needed to make things right for Rachel before she walks down the aisle. Do you really want to deprive her of meeting her father before her wedding?”

Nick stared at his mother as if she was deranged. “What are you talking about?”

Eleanor ignored her son and looked Rachel straight in the eyes. “I’m talking about your real father, Rachel. I found him for you! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell the both of you for the past month!”

“I don’t believe you!” Nick said defiantly.

“I don’t care if you believe me. I met Rachel’s father’s wife through your cousin Eddie when I was in London last year—you can ask him yourself. It was all a complete coincidence, but I managed to put two and two together and confirmed that he really is her father. Rachel, your father’s name is Bao Gaoliang, and he’s one of the top politicians in Beijing.”

“Bao Gaoliang…” Rachel said the name slowly, in utter disbelief.

“And right now, he’s at the Four Seasons Biltmore in Santa Barbara, and he’s hoping to see your mother, Kerry, again. And he’s dying to meet you. Come with me, Rachel, and I’ll take all of you to him.”

“This is another bullshit scheme of yours. You’re not taking Rachel anywhere.” Nick was seething.

• • •

Rachel put her hand on Nick’s arm. “It’s fine. I want to meet this guy. Let’s see if he’s really my father.”

Rachel did not speak during the short helicopter ride to the hotel. She clutched Nick’s hand tightly and looked pensively at her mother sitting across from her. She realized from her mother’s expression that all this was much more difficult for her, since it was the first time in more than three decades that Kerry would be seeing the man she had been in love with, the man who had rescued her from her abusive husband and the terror of his family.

As they disembarked from the helicopter, Rachel had to pause for a moment before continuing into the hotel.

“Are you going to be okay?” Nick asked.

“I think so…it’s all

happening too fast,” Rachel said. This was not how she had imagined it would happen. She didn’t really have a set vision of how things might unfold, but after the disappointment of her last two trips to China, she had begun to lose hope that she would ever find her father. Or else, it would happen years from now, after making a long, arduous journey to some far outpost. She never thought that she would meet him for the first time at a resort in Santa Barbara on the day before her wedding.

Rachel and her mother were led through the mimosa-scented lobby, then down a long Mediterranean-tiled corridor, and outside again. As they walked through the lush gardens toward one of the private cottage suites, Rachel felt as though she were floating through some strange, nebulous dream. Time seemed to have sped up, and everything seemed so unreal. It was all too bright, too tropical for such a momentous occasion. Before she could fully collect herself, they were at the front of the cottage, and Nick’s mother was giving the Mission-style wooden door a few rapid knocks.

Rachel took a deep breath.

“I’m right here with you,” Nick whispered from behind, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

The door was opened by a man with an earpiece who Rachel assumed was some sort of bodyguard. Inside the room was another man in an open-collared shirt and a pale yellow sweater vest, sitting in front of the fireplace. His rimless glasses framed a vibrant, fair-complexioned face, and his jet-black hair, meticulously combed with a part on the left, had a few graying streaks at the temples. Could this really be her father?

Kerry stood at the doorway hesitantly, but as the man got up and came toward the light, she suddenly put her hands to her mouth and let out a small gasp. “Kao Wei!”

The man came up to Rachel’s mother and stared into her face searchingly for a split second, before scooping her into a tight embrace.

“Kerry Ching. You are even prettier than I remember,” he said in Mandarin.

Kerry broke out in loud, violent sobs, and Rachel found her eyes flooding uncontrollably with tears as she watched her mother crying against the man’s chest. Managing to collect herself after a few moments, Kerry turned to her daughter and said, “Rachel, this is your father.”

Rachel couldn’t believe she was hearing those words. She stood by the doorway, suddenly feeling as if she were five years old again.