“Yes, but you know the sympathy for you will only last so long. I think you were almost seen through today. Ada isn’t as gullible as Fiona, you know. Really, Kitty, you need to address all the whisperings going on about Bernard and your daughter.”

Kitty turned toward the ocean and stared at a small island in the distance. “Let them whisper all they want.”

“Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on? Is Bernard really ill? Did he really infect your daughter with some strange genetic disorder?”

Kitty suddenly burst into tears, and Corinna could tell that this time, her tears were all too real. “I can’t explain…I don’t know if I even have the words to explain,” she said softly.

“Then can you show me? If you want me to help you, I need to understand. Because until we can put a full stop to all the rampant rumors about Bernard, things are not going to get much better for you here in Hong Kong,” Corinna said gently.

Dabbing away her tears with an embroidered handkerchief, Kitty nodded. “Okay, I’ll show you. I’ll take you to Bernard.”

“I can go to Macau with you anytime after Thursday.”

“Oh no, we won’t be going to Macau—we haven’t lived there in years. You’ll need to come with me to LA.”

“Los Angeles?” Corinna said in surprise.

“Yes,” Kitty said through clenched teeth.

2

CHANGI AIRPORT

SINGAPORE

Astrid had just gotten off her flight from Paris, and as she strolled past the Times Travel shop in Terminal 3 toward the exit, a clerk was placing a stack of the latest Pinnacle onto the magazine rack. There was a man hugging a young boy on the cover, and as Astrid walked by, she glanced at the cover from afar and thought, What a cute kid. Then she stopped, turned around, and headed back to the newsstand. It wasn’t often that Pinnacle would publish a cover that didn’t involve some overly photo-shopped woman in a ball gown, and she was intrigued to see who these people were. She went up to the magazine rack and gasped in horror.

Staring back at her on the cover of Pinnacle’s “Special Fathers and Sons Edition” were her husband and son. MICHAEL & CASSIAN TEO SAIL TO CONQUER, it said on the cover. Michael was pictured at the prow of some megayacht, wearing a striped sailor tee with an electric blue cardigan draped fussily over his shoulders, his arm awkwardly positioned on the railing to show off his vintage Rolex “Paul Newman” Daytona to full advantage. Crouched between his knees was Cassian, dressed in a blue checked shirt and a gold-buttoned navy blazer, with what looked like a gallon of gel in his hair and a hint of rouge on his cheeks.

Oh my God, what have they done to my son? Astrid grabbed the magazine and began flipping furiously through the five hundred pages of jewelry and watch ads, desperate to find the article. And there it was. The opening spread featured a completely different photo shoot of Michael and Cassian, this time in matching suede Brunello Cucinelli driving jackets and Persol sunglasses, shot from above as they sat in Michael’s Ferrari 275 GTB convertible. When the hell did they take these pictures? Astrid wondered. In bold white type, the title of the article ran along the bottom of the picture: