The grand ballroom reception at The Plaza Hotel had ended in a flurry of white rose petals, cheering friends, and flashing cameras. Now, the heavy double doors of the TriBeCa master suite clicked shut, locking out the world and sealing Julian and Clara in their private sanctuary. The suite was illuminated by dozens of flickering scented beeswax candles. The floor was strewn with thousands of fresh white rose petals, filling…
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