“Coffee?” the woman said.

“Thank you. I’ll be right down,” Rachel replied. She tiptoed around the room for a few minutes, trying not to disturb Nick as she brushed her teeth, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and fretted about what she should wear. Oh, this was ridiculous—the lady had already seen her in her oversize Knicks jersey and Nick’s old boxers. A thought occurred to her: Was that lady even Carlton’s mother? She threw on a simple embroidered white cotton summer dress and walked gingerly down the graceful curving staircase. Why was she suddenly so nervous? She knew that the Baos had talked till the early hours—there were muffled voices echoing every now and then down the hallway from their guest room.

Where was she supposed to meet the lady? As she peeked around the stately reception rooms on the ground floor, which were filled with an elegant mix of French and Chinese antiques, she wondered what Carlton’s mother was going to say to her now, after all that had happened. Carlton’s words in Paris suddenly echoed in her mind: My mother would rather die than let you set foot in her house!

A maid passing along a corridor with a silver coffee carafe stopped when she saw Rachel poking around. “This way, ma’am,” she said, leading her through a set of French doors onto a wide flagstone terrace, where the lady from the garden sat at a dark rosewood bistro table. Rachel walked toward her slowly, her throat suddenly going dry.

The lady watched the girl come out onto the terrace. So this is my husband’s daughter. The girl who almost died because of Carlton. And as the girl came into focus, a revelation: My God, she looks just like him. She’s his sister. And just like that, all the fears she had bottled up so deeply, all the thoughts that had been tearing her up inside instantly became meaningless.

Rachel approached the table, and the lady stood up and extended her hand. “I’m Bao Shaoyen. Welcome to my home.”

“I’m Rachel Chu. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

15

RIDOUT ROAD

SINGAPORE

When Astrid returned from Friday night dinner at Tyersall Park, Led Zeppelin was blasting at an eardrum-shattering level on the sound system in Michael’s study. She carried a sleepy Cassian upstairs to his bedroom and handed him over to his au pair. “How long has it been like this?” she asked.

“I only got home an hour ago, madame. It was Metallica then,” Ludivine dutifully reported. Astrid shut the door to Cassian’s bedroom firmly and went back downstairs. She peeked into the study and found Michael sitting in the dark in his Arne Jacobsen armchair. “Do you mind turning it down a little? Cassian’s sleeping and it’s past midnight.”

Michael turned off the stereo with one click and remained motionless in his chair. She could tell he had been drinking, and not wanting to pick a fight, she ventured cheerily, “You missed a good time tonight. Uncle Alfred suddenly had a mad craving for durians, so we all dashed off to 717 Trading on Upper Serangoon Road to get some. I wish you could have been there—everybody knows you pick the best durians!”

Michael snorted derisively. “If you think I’m going to sit there and make idle conversation with Uncle Alfred and your father about durians…”

Astrid came into the room, turned on a lamp, and sat down on the ottoman facing him. “Listen, you can’t keep avoiding my father like this. Sooner or later you’re going to have to make peace with him.”

“Why should I make peace when he was the one who started the war?”

“What war? We’ve been over this so many times, and I’ve told you I know for a fact that my father did not buy your company. But let’s say for argument’s sake that he did. What difference would that make at this point? You took that money and quadrupled it. You’ve already proven to everyone—to my father, to my family, to the world—what a genius you are. Can’t you be happy with that?”

“You weren’t there that morning on the golf course. You didn’t hear the things your father said to me, the contempt in his voice. He has looked down on me from the very beginning, and he will never stop.”

Astrid sighed. “My father looks down on everyone. Even his own children. That’s just the way he is, and if you haven’t figured that out by now, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I want you to stop going to Friday night dinner. I want you to stop seeing your parents every damn week,” Michael announced.

Astrid paused for a moment. “You know, I would do that if I thought it made any difference. I know you’ve been unhappy, Michael, but I also know that your unhappiness actually has very little to do with my family.”

“You’re right about that. I think I’d be happier if you would also stop cheating on me.”

Astrid laughed. “You really are drunk.”

“I’m not drunk at all. I’ve only had four whiskeys. Either way, I’m not drunk enough to ignore the truth when I see it.”

Astrid looked him in the eye, unsure if he was being serious or not. “You know, Michael, I am trying so hard to be patient with you, for the sake of our marriage, but you really aren’t making it easy.”

“So you’ve been fucking Charlie Wu for the sake of our marriage?”

“Charlie Wu? What in the world would make you think I’m cheating on you with Charlie?” Astrid asked, wondering if he had somehow discovered the real truth about his company.

“I’ve known about you and Charlie from the very start.”

“If you’re talking about that weekend road trip we took in California with Alistair, you’re being ridiculous, Michael. You know we’re just old friends.”

“Just old friends? ‘Oh Charlie, you are the one person who truly understands me,’?” Michael said in a mocking, girlish voice.

Astrid felt a chill go up her spine. “How long have you been eavesdropping on my phone calls?”

“Since the beginning, Astrid. And your e-mails too. I’ve read every e-mail you’ve ever exchanged with him.”

“How? Why?”

“My wife spent two weeks in Hong Kong with one of my top competitors back in 2010. You don’t think I’m going to look into that? I was a surveillance specialist for the government—I have all the resources right at my fingertips,” Michael bragged coldly.

For a long moment, Astrid was too shocked and outraged to move. She stared at Michael, wondering who this man was in front of her. She used to think he was the most handsome man on the planet, but now he looked almost demonic. At that moment, Astrid realized she could no longer live under the same roof with him. She bolted out of her seat and walked down the breezeway past the reflecting pool to the staircase that led to Cassian’s bedroom. She ran up the stairs and knocked on Ludivine’s door.

“Yes? Come in.” Astrid opened the door and saw Ludivine lying on her bed FaceTiming with some surfer dude on her laptop.

“Ludivine, please pack an overnight bag for yourself and for Cassian. We are leaving for my mother’s house.”

“When?”

“Right now.”

From there, Astrid ran to her bedroom and grabbed her wallet and car keys. As she came downstairs with Ludivine and Cassian, Michael was standing in the middle of the great hall leering at them. She handed the car keys to Ludivine and whispered, “Get in the car with Cassian. If I’m not out in five minutes, drive straight to Nassim Road.”

“Ludivine, don’t you dare fucking move or I’ll motherfucking break your neck!” Michael shouted. The au pair froze, and Cassian stared at his father wide-eyed.

Astrid glared at him. “Nice language in front of your son, Michael. You know, for the longest time I tried, I really tried. I thought we could save this marriage, for the sake of our son. But the fact that you would invade my privacy in such a fundamental way has shown me how broken our marriage is. You don’t respect me, and more importantly, you don’t trust me. You’ve never trusted me! So why do you want to stop us now? Deep down, you know I’m no longer the wife you want. You just won’t admit it to yourself.”

Michael ran to the front door and blocked it. He grabbed a fifteenth-century Bavarian poleax from the wall and waved it threateningly at Astrid. “You can go to hell for all I care, but you are not taking my son! If you leave this house now, I am going to call the police and tell them you have kidnapped him. Cassian, get over here!”

Cassian started to cry, and Ludivine held on to him tightly, muttering under her breath, “C’est des putains de conneries!”*

“Stop it! You’re scaring him!” Astrid said angrily.

“I’m going to drag you and your entire family through the mud! You’re going to see yourself on the front page of The Straits Times! I’ll sue you for adultery and desertion—I have all the e-mails and phone recordings to prove it!” Michael snarled.