Hire someone.
The estate can’t be without a winemaker.
Don’t let sentiment cloud judgment.
And now the unspoken addendum, finally made clear: “Or I’ll prove she isn’t ready.”
Cesare doesn’t care how hard Alessia works. He doesn’t care that she’s been making wine for half her life, that Matteo trusts her judgment more than his own, or that the crews would follow her into fire.
He cares about control, which is why he’s reminding me that if I don’t move fast enough—if I don’t make the decision he wants—I’ll be made to watch while he manufactures a failure and lays it at her feet and mine.
A small, traitorous voice in my head whispers:What if he’s right?
Not that she isn’t brilliant. She is. I know she is.
But that Tenuta Pietra Alta is one estate, not a constellation. Appointing her across the board would be a declaration of war I might not survive, especially if she fails to deliver.
It’s a convenient doubt.
Renzo would call it exactly what it is.
An excuse.
The night after we come back from Suvereto, we don’t make love for the first time since we promised to build a real marriage.
We sleep in the same bed, but she’s not close to me.
The next day I kiss her and she hugs me—like we’re back to normal—when I leave for Florence.
But we’re not okay.
Not normal.
She’s hurt, and she isn’t pushing a confrontation over it. And, I’m not telling her the truth.
I want to tell her everything—that this was a power play, that she was never the problem, that Cesare is setting traps and I’m trying to step around them without setting them off.
But I don’t. Because she’ll get hurt. Worse, it will be me who will hurt her. Alessia is precious. I want to take care of her.
So, I choose diplomacy over loyalty.
I am exercising protection by omission.
Or are you dressing up cowardice as strategy?
I drive back to Florence. The company helicopter isn’t available. This is fine with me. Driving helps me think.
I dial Renzo when I reach theautostrada.
“I’m done postponing the interviews,” I tell him.
There’s a pause. “What changed?”
“Cesare upped the pressure.” Then I tell him what happened after the harvest celebration.
“As I remember you canceled Fontana, Costa, and theAmerican who I’m pretty sure Cesare wants in for you to hate and turn to Fontana.”
“I’ve been busy.”
