Rich People Problems (Crazy Rich Asians, #3)

by Kevin Kwan

ATC: I don’t have that information, but this is a direct order from the Directorate General of Civil Aviation.

Hey we have a DGCA in India too!

And now that she had provided him with his first son (Harvard Bing, born in 2013), she could do anything she damn well pleased.

Lmao Harvard lol

BOMBAY, INDIA His nails were like onyx. They were perfectly formed and lightly buffed so that there was just a hint of sheen. Su Yi had never before seen such beautifully manicured nails on a man, and couldn’t help but stare as his fingers counted out rupees for the woman manning a cart piled high with brightly colored candles and strange wax figures, some in the shape of babies, some in the shape of houses, and others resembling arms and legs. “What are these wax sculptures for?” Su Yi asked. “People burn them as favors, in the hopes that their prayers will be answered. The babies are for people hoping for a child, the houses are for those that want a new home, and the sick choose a body part that corresponds to their ailment. So if you are looking to heal a broken arm, this is the one you’d get,” he said, holding up a wax form of an arm with a clenched fist. “I bought two candles in pale red and blue—they were the closest colors I could find to represent the British flag.” “You must tell me what to do,” she said hesitantly. “It’s very simple. We just place them in the shrine, light them, and say a little prayer.” As they walked up the hill with the lovely views of the Arabian Sea, Su Yi glanced at the imposing Gothic façade of Mount Mary Church. “Are you sure they’ll allow me to enter? I’m not Catholic.” “Of course. I’m not Catholic either, but everyone is welcome. If anyone asks us what we’re doing, we can tell them that we’re lighting candles for Singapore. Everyone is...

Yoooo Mount Mary and Bandra representttt

Suddenly it was all terribly bright, and she was no longer in the confession booth of Mount Mary in Bombay. She was in a hospital room, and her cardiologist was staring down at her. “Mrs. Young, can you hear me?”

Can’t believe they did a bit in Mount Mary!!

“Everything ends up seeming irrelevant in the face of loss,”

After they had enjoyed a classic Indian breakfast of akuri-spiced scrambled eggs on laccha paratha, chicken samosas, and fresh mango pudding on their private balcony,

What the fuck is this shit lmao?! No one eats this!

Suddenly the song stopped abruptly, and the window shutters on the opposite side of the courtyard flung open, revealing a man in a gold embroidered sherwani. He extended his arms toward Astrid, singing a cappella in Hindi. Then the music resumed as the dancers continued to stomp and twirl. Astrid burst out laughing, delighted at the Bollywood spectacle unfolding before her. Charlie must be behind all this! No wonder he’s been acting weird ever since we got here, she thought. The man disappeared from the turret, only to appear moments later in the courtyard leading a band of musicians. The entire troupe danced to the beat of the music, moving in perfect formation. She looked down at the handsome lead singer outfitted in gold, realizing with a shock that it was none other than Shah Rukh Khan, one of India’s biggest stars.

Lmaaaooo Now this is realistic. That man is everywhere 😂

I made my money the old-fashioned way. I was very nice to a wealthy relative right before he died. —MALCOLM FORBES

firm Gladwell and Malcolm.

lmao taking a famous author and making his name into a legal firm's name, I can't

No matter how old you are, no matter how ready you think you are, nothing quite prepares you for the loss of a parent.

My father passed away years ago, and I still haven’t quite recovered. People have been saying to me all week long, “At least your mother lived to this ripe old age, and you got to spend all these years with her.” And I just want to spit in their faces. I want to scream at them, Shut up, all of you! My mother died. Please don’t tell me how lucky or fortunate I am that she lived this long. She has been here on this earth my entire life and now suddenly in the blink of an eye she’s gone. Gone, gone, gone. And I am an orphan now. And even though she was a difficult woman, even though she drove me crazy half the time and I was never ever quite good enough for her exacting standards, my heart is broken. I will miss her every day and every hour for the rest of my life.

Peel away the veneer of wealth and sophistication and you’ll find extremely provincial, narrow-minded people. The problem is that they all have too much money, and it’s come so easily to them that they think they’re bloody geniuses and so they are always right.”

“We’re attracting royalty already! Maybe the Countess of Palliser will hire it out for her next big gala,” Rachel said with a slightly naughty smile. “How is she doing, by the way?” Araminta asked Kitty. Everyone knew that Colette had been the victim of a horrendous freak accident at her Save the Orangutans Proust Ball last year at the historic Goodwood Park Hotel. Colette had insisted on re-creating the space to look exactly like the French château where the original Proust Ball took place in 1971, complete with authentic 1971 lighting. In the middle of her speech, the electrical wiring on the 1970s lamp at her podium had short-circuited, and it would have been fine if Colette hadn’t been wearing her multimillion-dollar Giambattista Valli gown plated with eight hundred eighteen-carat rose gold disks. “From what her father tells me, she’s getting better every day. She’s still in that wonderful facility in England, and she can speak without dribbling now, but it will be some time before she can make it to Sumatra again,” Kitty said sweetly.

Haha a happy ending, karma laden, if not a bit too heavy handed