The hard-won peace of the winter was broken on a cold Thursday morning, not by the sound of gunfire or the arrival of a hostile Capo, but by the sharp, rhythmic chime of an encrypted satellite phone.

Outside our Manhattan penthouse, a gray, freezing sleet fell over

The cathedral of St. Jude Basilica was quiet on Saturday morning, filled only with the soft, sacred light filtering through the ancient stained-glass windows.

The air inside the vast stone sanctuary was cool, carrying the familiar, comforting scent of aged cedar, m

The private Salvatore jet touched down in Florence just as the Tuscan sun began its slow, golden descent behind the Apennine Mountains.

The air outside was thick with the scent of roasted pine and ancient, sun-baked terracotta. It was a sensory world away from t