The lights at the Lacy villa burned bright against the night, so brilliant that the entire estate seemed to glow like a private island of luxury carved out of the darkness.
A Western orchestra dressed in immaculate tailcoats filled the air with slow, elegant melodies—music designed not to excite, but to soothe, to lull, to remind every guest present that this was a place of refinement and status. Nearby, foreign chefs in crisp white uniforms and tall hats moved with mechanical precision, orchestrating the evening’s feast as if it were a carefully rehearsed performance rather than a meal.
Crystal glasses caught the light from the chandeliers, refracting it into soft prisms across the long dining tables. Bottles of imported wine lined the sideboards, their labels discreet but unmistakably
