Rich People Problems (Crazy Rich Asians #3)(157)
"Well, who put her in this situation in the first place? As far as I'm concerned, everything bad that's happened to Astrid in the past few months has had something to do with your involvement in her life. The leaked paparazzi photos. The leaked video. Your ex-wife. I'm sorry, but my only duty here is to protect Astrid from you."
And that's when things got out of control. He knew he shouldn't have lunged at Diego, but some visceral force just overtook his body. And now he had caused yet another scandal, this time among the most elite circles of Manila high society. And these people were sure to talk. The news would be all over town, all over Asia, and into Astrid's ears in no time. And this might make her go even deeper into hiding. Goddamnit, he had really screwed things up again.
Charlie dumped the ice from his towel into the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. Turning off the running faucet, he suddenly heard a soft knock on the door. He walked out of the bathroom and peered through the peephole. He saw a petite Filipino girl in a gold lamé cocktail dress standing in the hallway.
"Who is it?"
"My name is Angel. I have a message for you."
Charlie opened the door and stared at the girl. She looked to be in her early twenties, with shoulder-length hair and a friendly, open face. "Sir Charlie, I have some instructions for you from my boss. Go to the ITI Private Terminal on Andrews Avenue in Pasay City tomorrow morning and take the seven-thirty flight. Your name will be on the list."
"Wait a minute, how do you know me?"
"I was at China's party tonight. I recognized you immediately."
"Who's your boss? How does he know I was staying here?"
"My boss knows everything," Angel said with an enigmatic smile, before turning to leave.
-
The next morning, Charlie followed the instructions that had been provided by the mysterious girl and went to the private terminal in Pasay City, where he discovered in the hospitality lounge that this was a charter plane bound for different resorts on the Philippines' southwest coast. He boarded the twin-propeller plane, which was filled with tourists eager to get their beach vacations started. The plane took off and flew low over the coast, landing forty-five minutes later at a small desolate airstrip on the edge of the sea.
It was gray and raining when Charlie got off the plane. All the passengers were guided onto a colorfully painted bus, and they were driven down a muddy track to a series of open-air wooden huts. EL NIDO AIRPORT, a charming painted wooden sign announced. A row of Filipino women stood in the rain at the edge of the hut, singing a welcome song. Charlie got off the bus and was about to follow the tourists into the hut when an athletic young Filipino dressed in a white polo tee and crisp navy cargo pants approached him, holding a large white golf umbrella.
"Sir Charlie? My name is Marco. If you'll come with me please," the man said in an American accent. Charlie followed the man down a pathway to a private dock, where an elegant Riva speedboat awaited. They hopped into the boat, and Marco turned on the engine.
"It's been a wet morning. There's a raincoat under that seat for you," Marco said, as he expertly turned the boat around and sped off onto the open sea.
"I'm fine, I enjoy the rain. Where are we going?" Charlie yelled over the roar of the wind and the splashing waves.
"We're heading twenty-five nautical miles southwest."
"How did you recognize me?"
"Oh, my boss showed me your picture. You're easy to spot in a crowd of American tourists."
"Sounds like you spent some time in America yourself," Charlie said.
"I went to UC Santa Cruz."
"I don't suppose you'll tell me who your boss is?"
"You'll find out soon enough," Marco said with a little nod.
After about thirty minutes, the gray clouds gave way to open sky and puffy white clouds, turning the color of the ocean into a deep sapphire. As the speedboat continued to zoom along the Sulu Sea, Charlie stared out to the horizon as fantastical rock formations rose up from the water like apparitions. Soon they were surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of tiny islands floating on the blindingly azure waters. Each island resembled a monolithic rock carved in some otherworldly shape, bursting with lush tropical vegetation and sugary white beaches.
"Welcome to Palawan," Marco announced.
Charlie took in the mystical landscape in awe. "I feel like I'm dreaming. These islands look like they don't belong on this earth-they look like they rose out of Atlantis."