“What are you doing? Get back in formation!” Roxanne screamed, as the convoy of black Audi SUVs came speeding up the driveway.

The doors on the lead SUV flung open, and several men in black suits and dark sunglasses emerged, one of them approaching the middle car and opening the door. Judging by how thick the door was, Nick surmised it was a reinforced bombproof model. A short, stocky man in a bespoke three-piece suit was the first to emerge.

Roxanne, who was standing next to Nick, let out a barely audible gasp.

Seeing that the man appeared to be no older than his mid-twenties, Nick asked, “I take it that’s not Colette’s father?”

“It’s not,” Roxanne said curtly, before stealing a quick glance at Carlton.

* * *

*1 A body-hugging one-piece Chinese dress for women, created in the 1920s in Shanghai and perennially fashionable since Suzie Wong famously seduced Robert Lomax in one. In Singapore and Hong Kong, it is known by its Cantonese name—the cheongsam.

*2 Mattress makers to the Swedish royal family since 1852; the basic H?stens mattress starts at $15,000, and their top-of-the-line 2000T will set you back $120,000. But how much is it worth to you to sleep on a mattress that aficionados claim can actually prevent cancer?

*3 Not only is she China’s most renowned contemporary folk singer, she’s also the First Lady, being married to President Xi Jinping.

9

MICHAEL AND ASTRID

SINGAPORE

“Is that all you’re wearing?” Michael asked, lurking by the doorway of Astrid’s dressing room.

“What do you mean? Am I too scantily clad for you?” Astrid joked as she struggled to fasten the delicate clasp on her sandals.

“You look so casual.”

“I’m not that casual,” Astrid said, standing up. She was wearing a short black tunic dress with crochet panels and black fringe.

“We’re going to one of the best restaurants in Singapore, and it’s with the IBM people.”

“Just because André is a top restaurant doesn’t mean it’s formal. I thought this was just a casual business dinner with a few of your clients.”

“It is, but the bigwig is flying in and he’s bringing his wife, who’s supposedly very chic.”

Astrid shot Michael a look. Had aliens secretly abducted her husband and replaced him with some finicky fashion editor? In the six years they had been married, Michael had never made a single comment about what she wore. He had, on certain occasions, grunted that something looked “sexy” or “pretty” on her, but he had never used a word like “chic.” Until today, it wasn’t part of his vocabulary.

Astrid dabbed a little rose essential oil onto her neck and said, “If the wife is as chic as you say, she will probably appreciate this Altuzarra dress—it’s a runway look that never went into production, which I’m wearing with Tabitha Simmons silk stripe sandals, Line Vautrin gold earrings, and my Peranakan gold bracelet.”

“Maybe it’s all the gold. It looks a bit kan chia*1 to me. Couldn’t you swap it out for diamonds or something?”

“There’s nothing kan chia about this bracelet—it’s actually part of an heirloom suite that my great-aunt Matilda Leong bequeathed to me, which is now on loan to the Asian Civilisations Museum. They are dying for me to let them display this piece too, but I held on to it for sentimental reasons.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend your auntie. And I’m not a fashion guerrilla or whatever like you. This is one of the most important business deals I’ve ever been involved in, but please wear what you want. I’ll be downstairs waiting,” Michael said in a patronizing tone.

Astrid sighed. She knew all this fuss had something to do with that silly Hong Kong gossip columnist’s barb about Michael needing to upgrade his wife’s jewelry. Even though he denied it, the comment must have gotten under his skin. She made her way to the vault, punched in the nine-digit code to open the door, and peered inside. Damn, the earrings she was thinking of were at the big vault at OCBC Bank. The only thing she had of any significant size at home was a pair of gargantuan Wartski diamond-and-emerald pendant earrings that her grandmother had inexplicably handed her after mah-jongg at Tyersall Park the other day. The emeralds on each side were almost the size of walnuts. Apparently the last time her grandmother had worn them was at King Bhumibol of Thailand’s coronation in 1950. Well, if Michael really wants a Busby Berkeley showstopper, that’s what he’s going to get. But what outfit could possibly go with these earrings?

Astrid scanned her closet and pulled out a black Yves Saint Laurent jumpsuit with a drawstring waist and jet beaded sleeves. This was just dressy and yet simple enough to complement a pair of outrageously bling earrings. She would wear them with a pair of Ala?a ankle boots to give the whole look an extra edge. Astrid felt a little lump in her throat as she put the jumpsuit on—she had never worn it before because it was too precious to her. It was from Yves’s final couture collection in 2002, and though she was only twenty-three when she had her fitting for this, it still draped against her body more perfectly than almost anything else she owned. God, I miss Yves.

Astrid headed downstairs to the nursery, where she found Michael keeping Cassian company at the children’s dining table while he ate his spaghetti with meatballs.

“Wow, vous êtes top, madame!” Cassian’s nanny exclaimed as Astrid entered.

“Merci, Ludivine.”

“Saint Laurent?”

“Qui d’autre?”

Ludivine placed her hand on her chest and shook her head in awe. (She could not wait to try it on as soon as madame left the house tomorrow.)

Astrid turned to Michael. “Is this good enough to impress your IBM bigwig?”

“Where on earth did you get those earrings? Tzeen or keh?”*2 Michael exclaimed.

“Tzeen! My grandmother just gave them to me,” Astrid replied, slightly annoyed that Michael only noticed the earrings and failed to appreciate the subtle genius of her jumpsuit.

“Wah lan!*3 Van Cleef and Ah Ma strikes again.”

Astrid winced. Michael had punished Cassian for using cuss words, and yet here he was swearing like a sailor right in front of him.

“Look—doesn’t Mummy look pretty tonight?” Michael said to Cassian, pinching a meatball from his bowl and popping it into his mouth.

“Yes. Mummy always looks pretty,” Cassian said. “And stop stealing my meatballs!”

Astrid melted instantly. How could she be annoyed at Michael when he looked so cute sitting in the little chair next to Cassian? Things had gotten much better between father and son since she returned from Venice. After kissing Cassian goodbye, the two of them headed outside to the front driveway, where their chauffeur, Youssef, was doing a final polish on the chrome work of Michael’s 1961 red Ferrari California Spyder.

Jesus, he’s really out to impress tonight, Astrid thought.

“Thanks for changing, hon. It really means a lot to me,” Michael said as he held open the car door.

Astrid nodded as she climbed in. “If you think it makes any difference, I’m happy to help.”

They drove in silence at first, enjoying the balmy breeze through the open top, but as he turned onto Holland Road, Michael picked up the conversation again. “How much do you think your earrings are worth?”

“Probably more than this car.”

“I paid $8.9 mil for this ’Rari. You really think your earrings are worth more? We should get them valued.”

Astrid found his line of questioning slightly tacky. She never thought of jewelry in terms of prices and wondered why Michael even brought it up. “I’m never going to sell them, so what’s the point?”

“Well, we do want to insure them, don’t we?”

“It all goes under my family’s umbrella policy. I just add it to a list that Miss Seong keeps at the family office.”

“I didn’t know about this. Can my vintage sports cars get on the policy too?”

“I don’t think so. It’s just for Leongs,” Astrid blurted out, before regretting her choice of words.

Michael didn’t seem to notice and continued chattering away. “You’re really getting all of your Ah Ma’s biggest jewels, aren’t you? Your cousins must be envious as hell.”

“Oh, there’s plenty to go around. Fiona got the Grand Duchess Olga sapphires, and my cousin Cecilia got some superb imperial jade. My grandmother is very discerning—she gives the right pieces to whomever she knows will appreciate them the most.”

“Do you think she feels she’s going to conk off soon?”

“What a thing to say!” Astrid exclaimed, giving Michael a look of horror.

“Come on, lah, it must be going through her mind, which is why she’s begun divesting all her stuff. Old people can sense when they are going to die, you know.”

“Michael, my grandmother has been around all my life, and I can’t even begin to imagine the day when she won’t be here.”