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The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy Box Set

Page 132

by Kevin Kwan


  “It feels fucking great! I want to tell the pilots to steer this plane and crash it right into his fucking face!” Kitty screamed again, before breaking into loud heaving sobs.

  Oliver sighed as he looked out the window of the spa on the second floor of Kitty’s Boeing 747-81 VIP. They were over the English Channel now, and soon they would be landing in London. “I don’t know if a quick revenge is the answer, Kitty. I think you need to be playing a long game here. Look at the life Jack has given you. You’ve got three airplanes at your disposal, wonderful Elenya here to give you hot-stone massage treatments when you need it most, and all your other beautiful homes around the world. And let’s not forget about Harvard. You’ve given Jack a son, and as he grows up, he will begin to eclipse Colette in importance. Kitty, do you know the story of the Empress Dowager Cixi?”

  “She was the old lady that died in the opening scene of that Last Emperor movie, wasn’t she?” Kitty said in a quiet voice.

  “Yes, the Empress Dowager Cixi was one of the concubines of Emperor Xianfeng, and after he died she launched a palace coup and became the true force of power in China. Cixi had a greater impact than possibly any other emperor in the country’s history—she transformed it from a medieval empire into a modern nation, opened the country up to the West, and abolished foot-binding for girls. And she did all this, Kitty, even though she technically had no power at all because she was a woman.”

  “So how did she do it?” Kitty asked.

  “She ruled indirectly through her five-year-old son, who succeeded to the throne as emperor. And after he died as a teenager, she adopted another boy and put him on the throne so she could rule through him. As the Empress Dowager, court etiquette decreed that she wasn’t even allowed to be seen by men, so she took all her meetings with her ministers from behind a silk screen. You could learn a great deal from Cixi, you know. You need to bide your time and solidify your position by being the best mother to Harvard that you can possibly be. You need to be the most influential person in his life, and in time, he’ll come to rule the Bing empire and you will be the power behind the throne. Throughout history, Kitty, the people who wielded the most power weren’t always the ones who were in the spotlight. Dowager Empress Cixi, Cardinal Richelieu, Cosimo de’ Medici. These are the people who flew under the radar in their own time, but they amassed all the power and influence through patience, intelligence, and stealth.”

  “Patience, intelligence, and stealth,” Kitty repeated. Suddenly she rolled over and sat up on the massage bed, the hot stones rolling off her back and scattering onto the floor as Elenya scurried to pick them up. “Has the contract to buy Tyersall Park been signed yet?”

  “I think the lawyers are still drafting the agreement.”

  “So it’s not a done deal?”

  “No. There’s a gentleman’s agreement, but it won’t be official until the contracts are actually signed.” Oliver wondered where she was going with all this.

  “Didn’t you tell me that there were other interested parties in Tyersall Park before Jack bought it?”

  “Well yes, my cousin Nick was trying to buy it, but he never managed to scrape up enough money to match Jack’s offer.”

  “How much did he need?”

  “I think he was short about four billion dollars.”

  Kitty’s eyes gleamed. “What if I became a secret investor in the house? What if I put in the money and stole this house away from Jack?”

  Oliver stared at her in surprise. “Kitty, do you have that kind of money on your own?”

  “I got two billion in my divorce settlement from Bernard, and I invested all that money in Amazon. Do you know how much those shares have gone up in the past year? I have more than five billion dollars, and it’s just all sitting there in an account managed by the Liechtenburg Group,” Kitty proudly announced.

  Oliver leaned forward in his armchair. “You’d really be willing to invest all that money in a deal with my cousin?”

  “You’d still get your commission either way, wouldn’t you?”

  “I would, but I’d just be concerned about you putting so much of your own money into one venture.”

  Kitty went quiet for a moment, touched that Oliver cared for her beyond her money. “It will be worth every last cent just to know that Colette doesn’t get her hands on that house!”

  “Well, let me make a few calls.” Oliver unbuckled his seat belt and left the spa cabin. Five minutes later, he returned with a smirk on his face. “Kitty, there’s been the most interesting development. I just spoke to my cousin Nicky. It turns out that Tyersall Park has been deemed a national historic landmark, and he and a group of partners are putting together a radical new proposal to challenge Jack Bing’s offer.”

  “Does this mean Colette won’t get it either?”

  “Well, that’s very likely. However, they are desperate for one more investor. They’re short three billion dollars.”

  “Only three billion? Sounds like a deal.”

  “Should I call the cockpit and get them to turn this plane around?”

  “Why not?”

  Oliver picked up the phone by the console. “There’s been a change of plans. We need to get to Singapore, and fast.”

  “Not too fast. I want to get back to my hot-stone massage,” Kitty purred, as she stretched languidly onto her massage bed again.

  EPILOGUE

  TYERSALL PARK, SINGAPORE

  ONE YEAR LATER…

  “I can’t wait to see the bride. I wonder which designer she chose to do her gown?” Jacqueline Ling said to Oliver T’sien at the reception before the intimate wedding ceremony. Two hundred guests invited by the happy couple’s families milled about the Andalusian Cloister, enjoying cocktails and canapés while admiring the mesmerizing light installation created by artist James Turrell in the columned arcades surrounding the courtyard.

  “Let’s make a bet,” Oliver ventured.

  “The way you’re rolling in money these days, I’m not sure if I want to bet against you. Congratulations on your new commission in Abu Dhabi, by the way.”

  “Thank you. It’s just one palace for now. The princess was so impressed by what we did here that she’s put me on an embarrassingly large retainer. Anyway, let’s make the bet for lunch at Daphne’s the next time we’re both in London, and my money’s on Giambattista Valli,” Oliver said.

  “Okay, lunch at Daphne’s. Well, I wager that the bride’s gown will be designed by Alexis Mabille. I know how much she adores his work.”

  The string quartet that had been playing suddenly stopped as the door at the far end of the courtyard opened to reveal a dashing young fellow in a tuxedo holding a violin to his chin.

  “Oh look, it’s Charlie Siem! He’s popping up everywhere these days, isn’t he?” Oliver commented as the absurdly handsome virtuoso strolled along the arcade playing Elgar’s “Salut d’amour.” The doors at the other end of the arcade opened slowly, and Charlie strolled through, turning around to beckon the guests to follow him as he continued to play. Outside, a pathway lit with thousands of votive candles led from the rose garden past the stunning new saltwater swimming pool lined with thirteenth-century Moorish tiles into the wooded area of the estate.

  Following the musician as he ambled along merrily playing his violin, the guests oohed and aahed when they reached the lily pond, where black wooden chairs had been arranged in a crescent along one side of the pond. Hundreds of pale pink lanterns hung from the trees, cascading down branches and mixing with thousands of hanging vines that had been festooned with white dendrobium orchids, peonies, and white jasmine. A beautiful arched bridge built just for the wedding extended from one side of the pond to the other, covered entirely in different-hued roses, making the whole bridge appear as if it had been painted with impressionistic brushstrokes like one of Monet’s bridges at Giverny.

 
After the guests had settled into their seats, four cellists placed in the direction of the four winds began to play Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G major as the wedding procession began. An adorable little flower girl dressed in a gossamer white Marie-Chantal gown scattered rose petals along the central aisle, followed by Cassian Teo, who ambled up the aisle in a white linen suit (but barefoot), focused intently on not dropping the velvet pillow bearing the wedding rings.

  Next came Nick and Rachel walking arm in arm. Eleanor swelled up with pride as she watched Nick, dashing in his midnight blue Henry Poole tuxedo, escort Rachel, who Eleanor had to admit looked glowingly beautiful in a sublimely simple eggshell pink silk crepe gown designed by Narciso Rodriguez.

  “Aiyah, it’s like their wedding all over again,” Eleanor sniffed to her husband, dabbing away a few tears.

  “Minus your crazy helicopter invasion,” Philip quipped.

  “It wasn’t crazy! I saved their marriage, those ungrateful kids!”

  Nick and Rachel parted at the end of the aisle as they took their places as best man and matron of honor on opposite sides of the bridge. Suddenly, a grand piano became illuminated behind the bridge, giving the effect of floating in the middle of the pond. Sitting at the piano was a young man with slightly disheveled strawberry blond hair.

  Irene Wu gasped out loud, “Alamak, it’s that Ed Saranwrap! I love his music!”

  As Ed Sheeran began singing his wildly popular love ballad “Thinking Out Loud,” the groom, looking sharp in a bespoke tuxedo from Gieves and Hawkes, walked up to the middle of the bridge with the American pastor from Hong Kong’s Stratosphere Church. And then as a full band assembled at the far end of the pond emerged to accompany Ed in his song, the bride made her grand entrance at the foot of the pathway.

  The guests rose from their seats in unison as the proud father of the bride, Goh Wye Mun, nervously escorted his daughter Peik Lin up the aisle. The bride wore a strapless gown with a fitted white bodice and a long train skirt of ruffles appliquéd with pale pink silk roses. Her hair was swept up into an elaborate braided bun and crowned with a vintage pearl-and-diamond tiara from G.Collins & Sons.

  Jacqueline and Oliver looked at each other and said in unison, “McQueen!”

  As Peik Lin glided past them, Jacqueline nodded approvingly. “Sublime. Sarah Burton does it again!”

  “We both lose, but we can still have lunch at Daphne’s. Of course, you’re treating, Jac—you’ve got more fuck-you money than I do,” Oliver said with a wink.

  Peik Lin walked up to the middle of the bridge, where she was met by the pastor, who looked a little too disturbingly like Chris Hemsworth, and the man she was about to marry—Alistair Cheng.

  Nick and Rachel beamed joyously as the couple exchanged their handwritten vows, while Neena Goh, dressed in a gold-sequined Guo Pei gown with a plunging neckline, wept noisily. The Young sisters—Felicity, Catherine, Victoria, and Alix—glared at the mother of the bride with varying degrees of disapproval while shedding their own discreet tears.

  “I can’t believe my baby Alistair is getting married,” Alix sniffed to her sisters. “It seemed like only yesterday he was crawling into my bed, too afraid to asleep in the dark, and look at him now.”

  “Well, the boy was smart enough to marry a woman as capable as Peik Lin! I must admit I am quite impressed with what she and Alistair have done with Tyersall Park,” Felicity said.

  “I’m impressed by what they all did!” Catherine interjected. After all, it was she who cast the tiebreaking vote between the sisters one year ago when Nick had come to them with a radical new proposal hours before they were about to sign the sales contract with Jack Bing.

  The result of Nick’s proposal had now come to life as the just completed Tyersall Park Hotel and Museum, which preserved the main house as a historic landmark while breathing new life into it as an incomparably elegant new boutique hotel run by Colin Khoo and Araminta Lee. Set among nineteen acres of lush gardens in the immediate vicinity of the main house were forty guest villas exquisitely designed by Oliver T’sien in partnership with Axel Vervoordt. Beyond this rose Tyersall Village, a forty-five-acre community of sustainable housing specifically designed for artists and middle-income families, built by Goh Developments—the construction company owned by Peik Lin’s family.

  “I think Father would be proud of Nicky. I don’t think he was ever truly comfortable coming home every night to this decadent palace, when he spent the whole day being a doctor to the poorest people on the island,” Alix said approvingly. From the row behind the sisters, Cassandra Shang leaned in and whispered, “I’m told every single house in Tyersall Village sold on the first day of offering, because for so long no one with less than ten million dollars has been able to afford a house with a garden in Singapore! But apparently the people living in those big houses along Gallop Road are furious that the hoi polloi are now moving in to this tony neighborhood!”

  “I don’t mind what they did with Tyersall Village, but all those Buddha heads in the garden have got to go!” Victoria huffed. “I wonder if Peik Lin had anything to do with that. Those parents of hers look like they could be Buddhist.”

  Felicity shook her head. “I don’t think Peik Lin was involved. I think the Buddhas belong to the secret investor who chipped three billion in to Nick’s venture. I just wish I knew who it was!”

  When the ceremony had concluded, the guests proceeded to the wedding banquet at Alexander’s, the ravishing new restaurant in what was formerly the conservatory managed by Araminta Lee’s Sublime Hospitality Group. Su Yi’s prizewinning orchid hybrids commanded the space, but now they sprang out of handblown glass vessels suspended from the ceiling. Lit by candlelight, the hundreds of orchids seemed to dance in the air like celestial creatures over the long wooden seventeenth-century refectory tables.

  Eddie was the first to clink his wineglass and propose a toast to the newly married couple. “Peik Lin, I want to officially welcome you to the Cheng family, even though you know that you’ve already been welcomed into our hearts. And Alistair, my baby brother, I’ve never been more proud of you than I am today, and I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you and cherish you! I love you, brother!” Eddie said, crushing Alistair into a tight bear hug as he began sobbing into his collar.

  Sitting at the family table, Astrid turned to Fiona. “Is Eddie okay?”

  Fiona smiled. “He’s fine. After Ah Ma died, I forced him to go see a therapist. I gave him an ultimatum—either he went, or I would leave him. At first he was very resistant, but now it’s completely changed his life. And ours too. He’s given up all his mistresses, he’s become totally devoted to me and the kids, and he’s really learning to process his feelings in a healthier way.”

  “Well, it’s been more than a year since I’ve seen him, so it does seem like quite a transformation,” Astrid noted, watching as Eddie continued to soak Alistair’s shoulder with tears.

  “You know my Eddie. Whenever he does anything, he goes all out. Anyway, how have you been? I see that island life suits you well—you look amazing!” Fiona remarked, as she admired Astrid’s golden tan, naturally sun-streaked hair, and new style, which seemed like a perfect fusion of laid-back beach chic with imperial splendor. Astrid wore a simple indigo-dyed sarong-wrap dress with an incredible pearl choker that was comprised of crisscrossing vertical ropes of pearls starting from just underneath her chin and cascading down to the middle of her chest.

  “Thank you.”

  “The choker is just beyond! Is that one of Ah Ma’s pieces?”

  “No, it’s from Chantecler Capri—a birthday present from Charlie.”

  “I have to ask where you got that dress. It looks so refined, and yet somehow so relaxed!”

  Astrid gave an almost bashful smile. “Actually, I made this dress.”

  “You’re joking? I thought you w
ere going to say this was Yves Saint Laurent from some obscure resort collection in the eighties.”

  “Nope, it’s Astrid Leong Resort Wear 2016. I’ve learned to sew, and I’m also creating my own fabrics. This is actually a bamboo cotton, hand-dyed in ocean water.”

  “My God, Astrid, it’s amazing! Can I buy a dress from you?”

  Astrid laughed. “Of course, I’ll make you a dress if you like.”

  “I guess you aren’t bored in paradise?”

  “Not at all. I’m absolutely in love with my life in Palawan, and every day’s an adventure. Charlie and I have also started a school, partnered with this wonderful arts-focused school in Brooklyn called Saint Ann’s. Charlie’s discovered a new passion—teaching! He’s leading all the math and science classes, and Cassian’s one of the students. The boy’s never been happier being in a classroom with no walls and a constant ocean breeze. You really should bring the kids for a visit sometime.”

  Charlie came strolling up with two flutes of champagne for the ladies. “Thanks, Charlie. So are tonight’s nuptials inspiring you two?” Fiona teased.

  “Haha. A little bit, maybe. But right now I just enjoy living in sin with my gorgeous lover. Plus, it infuriates my parents to no end,” Astrid said, giving Charlie a long, tender kiss just as her mother glanced over in their direction.

  —

  After the banquet, the bride stood on the top steps of the rose garden with her back to a gaggle of excited women ready to catch her bouquet. Peik Lin threw it up in the air with gusto, and the bouquet of lilies of the valley made an almost perfect arch, landing right in Scheherazade Shang’s hands. The crowd cheered wildly as Scheherazade blushed.

  Catching Carlton’s startled expression, Nick said teasingly, “The pressure’s on now!”

  “No shit.” Carlton nodded grimly, before breaking into a huge grin.

 

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