On Friday afternoon, seeking a private respite before the winter expansion, Marcus flew Sienna to his historic coastal estate in Nantucket. The estate, nestled among the windswept dunes of Siasconset overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, was surrounded by wild beach grass, weathered grey cedar shingles, and the rhythmic crash of ocean waves. Dressed in thick cable-knit sweaters and wool trousers, they walked along the deserted beach as the autumn sun sank…
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