agricultural. But when I walked the grounds, the fresh air tickling my nose, the cypress trees swaying in the breeze, I felt closest to Enzo.
My twin brother, my touchstone, was the one who’d been enamored with the winemaking business. He’d had so many plans, so many hopes and dreams.
It was Enzo who had first mentioned the legacy of the lost grapes. At the time, I’d listened to him talk about the possibility of resurrecting ancient varietals but it’d seemed a fantasy, something to dream about. Enzo had been sure that it was a possibility and he was going to try to make it happen when he was old enough.
But my brother never got the chance. When he died in an auto accident at sixteen, a part of me died with him. Twins share a bond that is hard to explain.
Enzo would’ve been a premier winemaker—his love for the business had been unparalleled. I was but Enzo’s weak imitation, but I swore to his memory that I would never let Baroni wines fail. They would thrive in his honor.
Uva Persa would be our crowning achievement. Only Nonno knew what I’d been through to cultivate my secret vineyard, and he kept my secret, but the pressure to succeed was nearly crushing me.
Even after carefully selecting the property to grow the tenerone—testing the soil, checking for acidity and appropriate climate, tending to the vineyard as it finally yielded fruit—it’d taken three years for the wine to mature and it was finally ready for its debut.
So when Donato came around making offers, what he didn’t know was that there was no amount I would ever accept. I would never shame Enzo’s dream by selling—much less selling to an American.
Donato would just have to find another winery to purchase for his collection.
Castello di Baroni would never be for sale.
Dante
ALESSANDRA EXPECTED ME to leave the grounds. Given her curt refusal to entertain my substantial offer, it wasn’t surprising that she gave me little thought after leaving me in the great hall.
But I wasn’t ready to leave.
Maybe I’d play tourist and check out the gift shop. I needed to poke around, get a more accurate idea of what I was dealing with. I couldn’t think of a better way to get information than playing the part of a tourist within Castello di Baroni walls.
With a final appreciative glance around the great hall—my father would dig the whole king of the castle vibe the room gave off—I headed for the gift shop.
It was easy enough to find, and I stepped inside with a friendly smile and a disarming disposition for the attractive woman manning the counter. Unlike my brothers, I wasn’t one to use the Donato charm to get what I wanted, but I liked to win and I wasn’t above using whatever tools I had at my disposal.
“Welcome to Castello di Baroni,” she said with a sweet Italian accent and a welcoming smile. “My name is Mia. May I interest you in a sample today?”
“Pleasure to meet you, Mia. I’m Dante. What are you pouring?” I asked, feigning curiosity.
“Well, Dante, you’re in for a treat,” Mia said, retrieving a small tasting glass. “Today we have a bottle of Castello di Baroni’s Chianti Classico. Our wines have been served on royal tables since the seventeenth century.”
“That’s quite a claim,” I said.
“And completely verifiable,” she said, eyes sparkling. “But once you taste our wines, you’ll understand why Castello di Baroni is a premier choice for discerning palates.”
I accepted the glass and swirled the dark burgundy before burying my nose to appreciate the notes rising from the glass. With a short smile, I took a sip. It was good. Not quite as good as the Riserva Alessandra had shared earlier but still quite good. It was easy to see why Castello di Baroni was a solid label.
My father would enjoy having the label in his collection.
But first, I had to bring it home. “Excellent,” I said, smiling as I pretended to be in awe of the grounds.
“We offer shipping to anywhere around the world,” Mia said, fishing for a sale. “Having a Baroni wine on the table is a guaranteed conversation starter.”
“I can imagine,” I mused, savoring the wine. I took a moment to peruse the shop, making sure my gaze returned to the large open window with the gorgeous view of the grounds. “Incredible. The history within these walls… I’m overwhelmed by everything.”
She nodded, pleased that I was impressed. “Is this your first trip to Italy?”
“Actually, yes,” I answered, stretching the truth a bit. I’d been to Italy for business but I’d never played the tourist. Most of my time in Italy had been spent in boardrooms or hotel bars. I’d spent precious little time enjoying the visual treats the country was known for. “I’m so glad I stumbled on this place. It’s simply stunning. A working winery with such deep roots…pretty amazing.”
Mia was happy to chirp on about her employers’ origins, which I eagerly encouraged. The more I knew about my opponent, the better.
“Castello di Baroni has the distinction of being the largest winery in the Chianti Classico area as well as being one of the oldest working wineries in the region. Did you know that the original castle was built in the late thirteen hundreds?”
“Very impressive. All that history…if only these walls could talk, eh?”
Mia giggled. “Much intrigue and bloodshed. The Medicis were frequent guests and where they went, scandal followed.”
I laughed along with Mia. “You should put that on the brochure.”
“Oh, goodness,” she said with a flirty smile. “Alessandra would never do that.”
“And who is Alessandra?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
“Alessandra di Baroni. She is the winery’s CEO and the only living Baroni heir.”
“And does this Alessandra have no sense of adventure? I think playing up the Medici angle would be a sensational tourist trap. You’d sell more wine that way.”
“We do things differently here at Castello di Baroni. It’s not always about the sale,” Mia said, politely chastising me for such a crass suggestion. I probably came off as typically American. I’d done enough traveling throughout Europe to know that Americans were often disdained for our lack of tradition or sense of ritual.
“I agree, the way you’re doing things is better. Obviously, when you’ve been around since the thirteen hundreds, you’ve got a firm handle on how to succeed.” I winked to show that I was capable of listening to subtle cues. She rewarded me with an approving smile. I sensed a deep appreciation for Alessandra, which was interesting. While Alessandra may seem the hardnose, she must truly value her staff as Mia wasn’t about to say anything that threw her boss under the bus.
There was no one I would
