The golden light of dusk faded into deep indigo over New York Harbor, casting long, peaceful shadows across the master suite of 111 Franklin Street. The linear fireplace embedded in the travertine wall crackled with warm amber flames, bathing the smoked walnut bed platform and cashmere rugs in a soothing, hypnotic glow. Clara sat on the edge of the bed, wearing a soft ivory silk robe that pooled around her…
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