It’s two A.M. in Rio de Janeiro on Friday, February 28, the night before Carnival begins. At dawn, the streets will flood with bodies in fishnet tights and tiny bikinis, drinking Guaraná, Brazil’s answer to Coca-Cola, and cachaça, the sugarcane liquor in caipirinhas. But for now, the city sleeps.
Most of the city, that is. In a mansion perched high in the lush hills of Santa Teresa, overlooking the Atlantic, a party rages on.
