The sun had already slipped behind the Monaco harbor, and the surface of the sea broke the light into golden streaks in the soft evening breeze. The engine fell silent beneath you with a quiet purr as you stepped out of the McLaren. For a moment, you just stood there, leaning against the car door, trying to take a deep breath. Once, evenings like this were easy. Family dinner. Laughter. Your father’s voice telling a story too loudly while your mother smiled at him.