Chapter 15
“After thoughtful consideration and looking at the parameters of your land, I would like to offer you a fresh deal.” Sion wrote a new figure on a piece of paper and gave it to Ms. Stan.
“Sell the ranch to us but keep the wineries with you since it is your heritage. I can understand your sentiments. In this way you would keep the heritage which you had been carrying for ages. We would buy the wine from you and sell it in the market as a limited edition.” Sion declared with a well practiced sincerity in his voice.
“I would like to have a moment with my daughter,” Ms. Stan politely excused herself with Tisra.
“Have you even looked at him, Mom? That man looks like a clever con artist. I told you I will get another extension from the bank. This land is not for Wellcrow Grape Wines,” Tisra pleaded.
Cara did not say anything, but simply handed her the document Sion gave her earlier. “They're not taking our wineries. He wants to simply buy the wine produced from them. Why not? It looks like a fair deal. Plus they want to buy the ranch, too. You and I both know we hardly earn anything from it. That's too much money for that fruitless property.” She pointed to the figure on the paper.
“Are you sure it's only the ranch?” Tisra grabbed Sion’s quotation from Cara. And her lips slowly extended into a grin as she read it.
“You are really pulling your weight around here,” Cara spoke to Sion as they returned to the visitor's room.
“That would be awesome. We are happy with the deal,” Tisra said enthusiastically.
“I’m elated to hear it. Let us sign the documents tomorrow morning. Will that be okay?” He looked between the two women, a charming glint in his eyes.
“Of course. Why not?” Cara replied cheerfully.
“Everybody knows Los Santos grapes suck, and you're not even buying that winery,” Safia said sadly the moment they were back at the penthouse.
Sion didn’t reply directly. “I observed two things in the old woman’s eyes. She did not want to sell that property because it had been with them for generations. It's their legacy. Sentiments have a lot of value. Everything can't be weighed with money. Secondly, they are not money-hungry people. Did you see that house? They work hard, lead a simple life, and are content with it.”
“If you think they are not after your money, why did they accept your price?” Safia asked, her voice skeptical.
Sion chortled softly. “That is because they think I'm paying them a lot for that ranch. The most essential quality required in a businessman is to be able to read the thoughts of a person before him. Have you seen the spreading cloth on the centre table in the drawing room we were seated in? It was old, probably it had been washed a hundred times by now. The color looked faded, but it was perfectly ironed and clean with beautiful embroidery on it. That means they are poor but hardworking.
And not to forget that young woman…she is something else. Smart mouth with a good amount of self-pride. ‘Hoity-toity company man who waves currency notes’?” Sion shook his head with a grin recalling her earlier words.
“I know better than that. They hate rich people and no amount of money could buy them. When so many of my employees visited their place and came back empty-handed, it is an open and shut case—they're not into money. Thus, I offered them a deal which they can't refuse.” Sion spoke casually, looking through the window at the vast garden of their penthouse.
“How? You took the ranch but not the winery, which would earn you nothing. I don’t even understand why you are offering such a huge price for that good-for-nothing property.” Safia shrugged, clueless.
Sion presented a crooked grin. “Everyone would look at the ranch because that is the thing I bought from them. However, that is only a cover. The winery is where my eyes are set. I think differently, and it is that thought process which puts me at the top of American business.”
He walked towards her and stood tall, his hands in his pant pockets. “I am not stupid to make such a huge quotation without thought. To answer your earlier question regarding Los Santos grapes, didn’t you hear what that old woman said? Those grapes are not from here. They are from France, the best variety which we wouldn't get even if we sieve through the whole of America. You taste heaven in that wine. When the ranch is mine, the winery will soon be.” He said with clarity.
“Are you going to rob them of their generations-long heritage?” Safia asked, flabbergasted.
Sion shook his head. “I won't. I am not a thief. I only do smart business. They will offer me everything on their own.”
“How?”
“It's called intelligence.” He tapped the side of his head with his forefinger. “You won't understand because you are still a kindergarten student here.”
“I am not a kid and I can see everything, including how that bitch is trying to flirt with you.” Safia said with scorn.
Sion chuckled. “Let her flirt. I will play with her until the time I seal the contract. This is very important to me because Dad wants to acquire this land by any means.”
“So you will continue to do hunky-funky with her but won’t tell her you are married to me?” Safi tightened her lips and asked Sion.
“No. I won't. Like you told me a hundred times now, our wedding is only on paper. Nobody knows about it. You're just here to warm my bed. After two years you're on your way and I'm on mine.” Sion shrugged as a matter of fact.
“You…” Safia raised her hand to slap him, but it was stopped mid-air by a speed and a strength that were inhuman. His fingers, impossibly strong, wrapped around her wrist, his grip a silent threat. A cruel, knowing smile played on his lips.
“Using men for your needs and abandoning them later like a piece of trash is the art you’ve mastered. I’m just being your student, learning the basics. Why are you so irritated when I’m just giving you back what belongs to you? Guild Wade right? I know… everything.” He nodded, his eyes flashing with a thousand emotions she couldn't decipher.
The name was a punch to her gut. Guild. The beta she’d loved, the one she'd been forced to leave behind, the one she’d promised to return for. How could Sion possibly know about him? Her breath hitched, her mind reeling. Had her father, in his desperation, revealed this secret? Or had Sion, with his terrifying power and resources, dug up her past to use it against her?
Before she could form a question, Sion’s gaze shifted, his eyes flickering with an unsettling, predatory gold. His head tilted, as if he were listening to a sound only he could hear, a sound that made his nostrils flare. His grip on her arm tightened, and a low growl rumbled deep in his chest.
"What is it?" she whispered, fear coiling in her stomach.
He didn't answer. Instead, his body went rigid, and he pushed her behind him, shielding her with his frame. She caught the scent of him, a scent she now recognized as his true self—the scent of an alpha wolf, a dangerous, primal aroma that was now laced with the acrid smell of a threat.
"He's here," Sion hissed, the words not a whisper but a snarl.
Sophia's heart hammered against her ribs. Who was he talking about? Another alpha? A rogue? The scent of another wolf was thick in the air, a scent she now recognized as pure aggression and challenge.
A shadow detached itself from the trees, stepping into the dim moonlight. The figure was tall, powerfully built, with eyes that glowed a fiery red. He was an alpha, no doubt, but not just any alpha. He was the ruler of the territory they had stepped into.
He stood there, his eyes locking onto Sion, and then on Safia, his gaze a mix of fury and heartbroken. He wasn’t just here to talk. He was here to fight. And Sion, her contracted mate, the man who had just used her past against her, was now ready to fight him.
The air crackled with the raw, untamed energy of two alpha males about to collide. Two alphas. The stage was set for a battle of blood and dominance, and Safia was caught in the middle.
The only question now was which wolf would win, and what would happen to her when the other did.
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