The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy
Charlie smiled. “You’re never going to believe it. You know that raggy old stuffed giraffe that Delphine has?”
“Yes! The one she can’t sleep without every night?”
“It was a gift from Isabel, and it turns out there was a very sophisticated camera and recording device implanted inside.”
“Oh my God…”
“Delphine would drag the damn stuffed animal with her between both houses, so Isabel always knew my every move. And she got the footage of us completely by accident, because Delphine had slept in my room the night before you came over and left the giraffe on the chest at the foot of my bed.”
“No wonder the footage was shot from such a weird angle!” Astrid said with a little laugh. “But how in the world did she get this sophisticated nanny cam made?”
“Michael helped her. They were in cahoots all along. It came out after Isabel’s suicide attempt, and the police got involved investigating the source of the video clip on her phone.”
Astrid shook her head sadly. “So they ganged up?
??the two bitter ex-spouses.”
“Yep. But their little partnership is also the silver lining in all this. I flew to Singapore a few weeks ago and had a nice long chat with Michael. I told him he could withdraw the lawsuit, sign the divorce papers, and go on enjoying his life as a billionaire bachelor, or he could do the following: First, he could go to jail for aiding and abetting Isabel in her illegal surveillance. Second, he could go to jail for extortion, since he stupidly sent you the video with that text message demanding $5 billion. And third, he could go to jail for being linked to the malicious leak of the video. By the time the Singapore court system is done with all the charges that I would bring against him, he could very well spend the rest of his life in Changi Prison, or worse, he could be extradited to Hong Kong and then sent to a prison camp in Northeast China, near the Russian border, where guys that look as pretty as he does end up having a very sore time.”
Astrid leaned back into her chair, taking it all in.
Charlie grinned. “Michael has promised to never be of any trouble to you or Cassian. Ever again. So the minute you put your name on those divorce papers, you’ll be a free woman.”
“A free woman,” Astrid said the words softly to herself. “Charlie, I love you, and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me over the past few weeks. If I’m being true to myself—to the new me—and if I’m being completely honest with you, I just don’t know if I really want to get married again right now. I’m not sure I’m ready to return to Singapore yet. I’ve been exploring these islands quite a bit, getting to know the locals, and I am really connecting to this place. I think there’s a great deal I could do right here to help the indigenous people. I could really use more time here, and what I really want is to send for Cassian. I’ve seen how happy the kids are in these islands…their lives are so integrated with nature, they’re so free and adventurous. They run along the narrow little prows of wooden boats like sailors, they climb the trees like acrobats and knock down all the ripe coconuts. They laugh and they laugh. It reminds me a little of the kind of childhood I had at Tyersall Park. Cassian’s whole life these days is about homework and exams and Chinese lessons and tennis lessons and piano competitions, and then when he’s not doing that he’s just glued to his computer screen playing those violent games. I can’t remember the last time I saw him laugh. If I’m going to live a new life of true freedom, I want the same freedom for him too.”
Charlie peered deep into Astrid’s eyes. “Listen, I want you to have exactly the kind of life you’ve dreamed about, for yourself and for Cassian. My only question to you is: In this new life, is there a place for me?”
Astrid looked at Charlie, not sure what to say.
* * *
* Fresh caught jumbo prawns in coconut milk, a Palawan delicacy.
CHAPTER TEN
ANTWERP, BELGIUM
Kitty stood in the middle of the space, staring at the exquisite alchemy of furnishings, objets, nature, and light. There was an elegant purity to the way everything was arranged, and the room emanated a calm and quietly invigorating energy. “This is what I want! This is how I want Tyersall Park to be,” she told Oliver. They were in the midst of wandering through Kanaal, a nineteenth-century complex of industrial spaces next to a former grain silo on the Albert Canal that had been breathtakingly transformed into the atelier and private showroom of Axel Vervoordt, one of the world’s most esteemed interior designers.
“We’re already halfway there, Kitty. Tyersall Park has amazing bones, and it’s got that perfect patina of age that no amount of money can buy. We wouldn’t have to import any new floors or create new walls that look like they came from the seventeenth century. But look how this bronze ax from the Neolithic period changes the whole vibe of the room. And these simple ferns wilting beautifully on this refectory table. It’s all about placement, and Axel is the master of all this.”
“I want to meet him right now!” Kitty said.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be here very soon. Didn’t you hear what his assistant said? He’s having lunch with Queen Mathilde of Belgium right now,” Oliver whispered.
“Oh, I couldn’t understand his accent. I thought he said he was in the middle of reading Matilda. I was thinking, why is this man reading a children’s book when I’ve flown all the way here to meet him?”
“Axel’s work is held in such high esteem, his clients include many of the world’s crowned heads,” Oliver informed Kitty as they wandered into a dramatically lit chamber that was, coincidentally enough, filled with nothing but ancient Buddha heads carved out of stone.
“Can we do this somewhere in the garden? I think it would be so cool to wander through the forest and just find a bunch of Buddha heads everywhere,” Kitty suggested.
Oliver chuckled to himself, trying to imagine how Victoria Young might react to the sight of dozens of Buddhas scattered around Tyersall Park. Still, Kitty’s idea wasn’t half bad. Maybe the way to really launch Kitty into the social stratosphere would be to style her as Singapore’s answer to Peggy Guggenheim, and have the grounds of Tyersall Park become a venue for contemporary art like Storm King in New York or the Chinati Foundation in Marfa. They could have the world’s greatest artists in residence to create site-specific installations. Christo could wrap the entire house in silver fabric, James Turrell could create a light projection in the conservatory, and maybe Ai Weiwei could do something controversial with the lily pond.
In the midst of his reverie, there was a sudden flurry of activity as Axel Vervoordt entered the room, impeccably dressed in a gray suit with a black turtleneck, and surrounded by a monastic entourage of assistants. “Oliver T’sien, what a pleasure to see you again!” the legendary antiquarian said.
“Axel, the pleasure is all mine. May I introduce Mrs. Jack Bing.”
“Welcome to Kanaal,” Axel said, giving Kitty a courtly bow.