“It’s only one asshole trying to rob me of $5 billion,” Astrid sighed.
“You know what? I think we should assign a security detail to you. I’ll get the top team in the world.”
“You sound like my father now. He’s always trying to do this to me. I don’t want to live in a cage, Charlie. You know how invisible I try to be. If I can’t feel safe in my own house, in my hometown, I don’t know what point there is in living here.”
“You’re right, you’re right. I’m just paranoid right now, I guess.”
“Well, I’m wandering the streets of Singapore in nothing but a little linen shift and bedroom sandals, and no one’s even noticing me.”
“I bet you’re wrong. I bet every guy on the street is thinking, who is that half-naked babe?”
Astrid laughed. “Oh Charlie, I love you. Even in the midst of all this craziness, you can make me laugh.”
“It’s important to laugh. Otherwise, we’re letting the fucker win.”
Astrid had circled back to her terrace house, and now she sat down on the little step that extended just a foot beyond her front gate. “Win, lose, how did this even become a battle? All I ever wanted was for us to be able to find happiness.”
Charlie sighed. “Well, it’s clear to me that Michael doesn’t want to be happy. Ever. He just wants to be in a constant state of war with you. That’s why he’s been stalking us at every turn and dragging his heels with the divorce negotiations.”
“You’re right, Charlie. He sent that video tonight because he wanted to scare us and drive us out of our own homes.”
“And he damn near succeeded. But you know what? We don’t scare so easily. We’re both going to go back into our homes now. We’re both going to lock our doors, and we’re never going to let him in again!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE LAW OFFICES OF TAN AND TAN, SINGAPORE
The OCBC Centre at 65 Chulia Street was nicknamed “the calculator” because of its flat shape and windows that resemble button pads. The architect I. M. Pei had intended for the hulking gray tower to be a symbol of strength and permanence, since it was the headquarters of the Oversea-Chinese Banking Corporation, the island’s oldest bank.
Unbeknownst to most people, the thirty-eighth floor of the tower was home to Tan and Tan, a small law firm that kept an exceedingly low profile but was undoubtedly one of the most influential legal powerhouses in the country. The firm almost exclusively represented Singapore’s establishment families and did not take on new clients—one had to be specially recommended.
Today, the glowing mahogany-and-glass reception counter had been given an extra polish, fresh-cut roses bloomed in the guest toilets, and every member of the staff had been told to dress in their smartest outfits. At around fifteen minutes to ten, the elevator doors began to work overtime as the descendants of Shang Su Yi started to arrive en masse. The Leongs showed up first—Harry, Felicity, Henry Jr., Peter, and Astrid*1 were joined by Victoria Young and the Aakaras. At 9:55 a.m., Philip, Eleanor, and Nick joined the others in the discreet recept
ion room with its imitation Le Corbusier leather couches.
Sitting down next to Astrid, Nick asked, “You okay?” He could always sense whenever things weren’t right with his cousin.
Astrid smiled, trying to reassure him. “I’m fine. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night, that’s all.”
“I haven’t been sleeping much either. Rachel thinks my body’s just catching up to the grief, but it all still feels like some bizarre dream,” Nick said. As he made that comment, the grandfather clock in the lobby began to chime ten, and Alix Young Cheng entered with her husband, Malcolm, and Eddie, Cecilia, and Alistair. Eddie cleared his throat as if he were going to make a speech, but he was interrupted by Cathleen Kah,*2 who came out into the reception area to greet the family.
Cathleen shepherded everyone down the corridor and through the double doors into the main conference room. A massive dark oak table dominated the room, placed in front of the bank of windows framing a panoramic view of the bay. Sitting at one end of the table was Freddie Tan, Su Yi’s longtime lawyer, having coffee with Alfred Shang, Leonard Shang, and Oliver T’sien.
I knew Uncle Alfred would be part of this, but what the hell are Leonard and Oliver doing here? Eddie thought to himself.
“Good morning, everyone,” Freddie said jovially. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”
Everyone took their seats around the table, clustered more or less in their family units, except for Eddie, who positioned himself at the head of the table.
“That was quite the send-off yesterday, wasn’t it? Eddie, I never knew you could sing like that,” Freddie remarked.
“Thank you, Freddie. Shall we begin?” Eddie eagerly suggested.
“Relax, kiddo. We’re just waiting for one more person,” Freddie said.
“Who else is coming?” Eddie asked, suddenly alarmed.
At that moment, the sound of expensive designer heels making soft clicks against marble could be heard in the corridor outside, and the receptionist opened the conference room doors. “This way, ma’am.”