Perched atop the towering basalt cliffs of the Palisades in Alpine, New Jersey, looking across the vast expanse of the Hudson River toward the northern tip of Manhattan, stood Marco’s private sanctuary: Hudson Heights. The estate was an architectural marvel of slate, cedar timbers, and floor-to-ceiling glass, completely hidden from public view by twenty acres of private ancient oak forests and secured by double biometric gates. It was two o’clock…
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