THE Escobar mansion shimmered in gold and ivory hues, the grand chandelier raining elegance over the long dining table being set with the finest cutlery and crystal glassware. Fresh flowers lined the center, and the mouthwatering aroma of roasted lamb, buttered vegetables, and delicate pastries floated through the air as uniformed chefs and servers made final adjustments.

It was a rare and cherished evening, one the Escobar family hadn’t experienced in years. Not since the days when laughter once danced through these same halls.

Lady Frances stood by the grand hallway, clasping her fingers in an unusual flurry of excitement. Her heart was fluttering, not because her beloved son was...