Chapter 14
The day after the incident, Sion and Safia drove to the client’s house. His father’s words still echoed in his mind from their earlier conversation.
Past conversation between Sion and his dad Karen:
"You might be wondering why I'm sending you to a small ranch owner for a deal when we have a whole lot of employees to work for us. The place has got some of the best grapes which will turn out to be a fortune for us in the future. The owner of the ranch is a difficult woman. That is where you come in. We have tried everything to get that piece of land. Money and pressure don't seem to have any effect. We have 3 weeks to get this parcel in escrow. If not, the deal falls apart before Christmas."
Present:
Safia looked out the car window, watching the empty fields pass. "I wonder who lives here. It's a whole lot of nothing."
Sion restricted the grin threatening to break through his stoic expression. "This is wine country. Did you know that 80% of the nation's wine is made right here in California? And chardonnay grapes are the most popular ones planted."
Half an hour later, they pulled up to a modest ranch house. "I am Sion Canes, CEO of Wellcrow Grape Wines," he said, extending a hand to the old woman who greeted them.
"You're an impressive name drop, aren't you?" the gray-haired woman replied, assessing him. "I read volumes about you in newspapers and on the internet."
"Pleasure is all mine, ma'am, but you have no idea how exhausting it can be sometimes," Sion said humbly before flashing his signature charming smile.
"Please take a seat." She gestured to a chair and sat across from him.
"My company is going to offer you the best price," Sion said, taking a seat and writing a figure on a legal document before forwarding it to her.
"I thought for a second that you were a suit," Ms. Stan said, her eyes running over his expensive, tailor-made clothes. "But you seem modest despite the vast wealth you hold."
"What?" Sion asked, slightly taken aback but maintaining his polite demeanor.
"A suit. We thought some hoity-toity company man would come here and wave money in our faces," a younger woman said, standing beside Ms. Stan. "I'm Ms. Tisra Stan, daughter of Cara Stan," she introduced herself.
'That spoke volumes about her. Hating a rich, high-pride woman who struggles to keep her head above water,' Sion thought to himself. He'd mastered the art of not letting his emotions show.
"I know this is a ranch you planned to turn into a winery one day and are fighting tooth and nail to allow it to survive," Sion stated. "But the amount my company is offering is more than fair. I've offered double what my dad promised you. This will clear all your previous loans and also allow you to buy a new ranch."
"Do you know about our local wine culture? We have a collective, friendly buyer for our land," Ms. Tisra said with determination.
"Whatever the quote, I know it won't be greater than the amount I'm offering," Sion said with finality, tucking his pen back into his shirt pocket.
"You have a one million dollar loan taken by your late father three years ago. The money you make from the ranch is hardly a few hundred every month. How do you think you will clear that loan?" Sion asked diplomatically. He was a creative genius at work.
"You seem to have come here after doing all your homework, young man," Ms. Stan said with a smile, though her eyes held a word of caution.
"Well, I don't simply step into the ground. Deals don’t work with selfishness and pride. You strike the best when you think about the welfare of both parties," Sion added, taking a sip of the coffee he was offered.
"My dad did a lot of work on that," Cara stated. "In the late 1800s, there was a parasite that destroyed all the vineyards. My great-grandfather bought those vine plants in suitcases from France and planted them here. The best quality of wine is what we get out of them. There is no way we are going to sell this land to you."
The bodyguard standing beside Sion took a step forward in anger at her words, but Sion stopped him. He was not there to get carried away by emotions and lose the deal. "Do you sell the wine that comes from your grapes?"
"No. We give it to our friends and relatives during birthdays and festivals," Ms. Tisra informed him.
"Can I have a taste of it?" Sion asked. Safia watched, her mind racing, wondering what he was up to.
Ms. Tisra guided him to the barrel room. "Our vineyard is the only remaining source of local grapes in Los Santos. And this facility is where our precious produce produces their wine."
"And those barrels are made of teak wood, right?" Sion pointed to one from which she was taking out the wine.
"Mmm hmm," she said in a sing-song way, offering him a glass.
Sion carefully observed the color of the drink before swirling and smelling it. He took a sip, his eyes slightly highlighted. "Good fruit, super grippy, some austere tannins. Isn't it?"
"Indeed. Your taste and smell are perfect," Ms. Tisra said, walking closer, her eyes conveying something he wished not to see.
Sion created distance between them and walked back to the sitting room where Safia and Ms. Stan were waiting. "I may have an option that could be beneficial for both of us."
"What would it be?" Ms. Stan leaned forward on her seat, looking at him with eagerness. Ms. Tisra 's swooning eyes on him didn't create a favorable impression in Safia's mind. But did she have a choice? Maybe she did because the next words from Sion 's mouth were, "What if your daughter becomes a partner in my company?"
Ms. Tisra and Cara's faces lit up, but Safia's heart sank. She knew what this meant. Sion was offering the daughter of the woman he was trying to con a partnership in his multi-million dollar company, and he was going to get it. And she also knew that Ms. Tisra 's predatory look would not stop at a business partnership.
She was about to voice her concern, but a low growl from a nearby room stopped her. Ms. Tisra and Cara froze, their eyes widening in fear. A huge, shaggy wolf with eyes the color of a setting sun stepped out of the shadows.
It was not a stray. It was too big, too powerful. It sniffed the air, its gaze locking onto Sion . But it wasn't a look of aggression. It was a look of profound recognition, as if it had been waiting for him. Sion ’s face paled. He had been so focused on the deal, on the human scent, that he hadn't noticed the faint, intoxicating aroma of a werewolf in the room until it was too late. He was a werewolf, an alpha, and he had just stepped into another alpha's territory.
The two wolves, one in human form, the other in beast, were now face to face. Safia watched, terrified. She had no idea what would happen next, but she knew this was no longer a business deal. This was a territorial dispute. And the outcome would be decided not by a contract but by blood.
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