The journey down Fifth Avenue toward the Metropolitan Museum of Art was an exercise in cinematic Manhattan elegance. Outside the tinted glass of Dante's armored Maybach, the drizzle had softened into a gentle autumn mist, turning the streetlamps along Central Park East into glowing halos of amber light. Aria sat in the passenger cabin, her fingers lightly touching the cold platinum setting of the forty-carat Ceylon sapphire necklace resting against…
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