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Six

L EON

Iron gates groaned open as I rolled my car forward, headlights catching their wrought-iron filigree. I guided the tires onto a ribbon of gravel and settled in.

The Galanis estate was massive.

Ahead, the manor rose like a fortress of sandstone, its turrets and arching windows dwarfing the hillside. My own vineyard, just a few tidy rows behind a low stucco wall, felt like a garden patch by comparison.

Beyond the house, vineyards tumbled over gentle slopes, each vine tied in neat lines that threaded through the grass. Clusters of grapes sat along them, ready to grow and ripen throughout the approaching Summer’s sun .

To the right, olive groves spread into a soft green sea, trunks bent at odd angles under their silver leaves, promising hidden paths and cool shade.

I steered past a semicircle drive and cut around the far wing of the mansion.

There, a low complex of buildings hugged the hillside.

Cavern-wide doorways yielded glimpses of polished steel tanks, cylinders rising like sentinels, and gleaming pipes that snaked toward walls stacked high with centuries-old oak barrels.

Their staves bulged with age, metal hoops mottled by time.

Workers moved in choreographed clusters: a man hefting nets into a press, another adjusting a hose, voices rising and falling against the clatter of footwear on stone and wood. Every corner of this place buzzed with purpose.

The operation proceeded smoothly and efficiently.

Production schedules were posted on bulletin boards, forklifts maneuvered gracefully below the crate racks, and cellar doors opened at exact moments.

I’d faced setups half this size and felt those familiar twinges of insecurity.

Not today. I’d built niche experiences, boutique wineries, themed restaurants, and late-night lounges tailored to a select crowd.

My business thrived on intimacy. Galanis thrived on scale.

Still, scale didn’t breed exclusivity. Plates in my restaurants could showcase his estate’s single-vineyard reserve. His casks might rest beneath my bar’s polished oak floors. I pictured summer tastings where my dim lanterns illuminated his wine’s crimson depths.

There was ambition behind every thought. The Vitalis family had stormed back into prominence: power brokers and social architects.

I wanted in on their momentum. And Calista Vitalis, soon to be my wife, sat at the center of that orbit. That fact pulsed beneath my skin more insistently than any spreadsheet or marketing forecast.

Her last call had sent warmth through my chest.

Colleagues had joked about the sudden lightness to my stride, but I knew it wasn’t the market or a new contract.

It was her. My pulse skipped at the thought of her smile, the soft edge in her voice—anticipation, attraction, curiosity, each pulse a drumbeat of something uncharted.

I wasn’t a soft or kind man, but something about Calista called to me.

I shut off the engine, and suddenly, the quiet felt electric. Gravel crunched under my shoes as I climbed the flagstone steps. Birdsong echoed from the olive grove, notes carried on a cool breeze.

At the top, the heavy oak door swung inward before I could lift my hand. A butler, tall, silver-haired, perfectly still, stood framed by the doorway, a silent welcome awaiting me.

“Welcome to the Galanis estate, Mr. Boscos,” he announced, his voice resonating through the opulent entrance as he executed a formal bow. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you.” I stepped across the threshold and allowed myself to be enveloped by the opulence of the foyer.

The floors, a pristine expanse of white marble, gleamed under the light, while a grand staircase swept gracefully upward, an inviting path to the second floor.

Nestled within the staircase’s curve stood a statue of a nude woman, her form lending the space an air of serene elegance and timeless sophistication.

Across the room, a massive abstract painting burst forth with vivid gold, green, and white hues, infusing the area with a lively splash of color.

Just as I entered, a pack of four massive dogs bounded toward me, their exuberance palpable as they encircled my feet, tails wagging with uncontained joy.

“Oh, wow,” I breathed, lowering myself to their level and extending my hands to pet them. They were shepherds, one with the distinct features of a Dutch breed, the others proudly representing Greek breeds. “Aren’t you all beauties?”

I crouched farther, my hands roaming over their sleek coats as they vied for attention. Their friendliness was undeniable, their demeanor unbothered by the presence of a stranger.

Curious, I inspected the nametags dangling from their collars, chuckling when I discovered one of them bore the name Leontios.

It was the Greek word for fearless, a name I recognized instantly, for it was mine as well.

Rising to my feet, I noticed Calista entering the foyer, her presence commanding the room.

“Hello,” she greeted me in a gentle voice. “I see you’ve made friends with the dogs already.”

“I’m not sure I had a choice,” I responded as I studied her.

Calista was a vision of beauty, her allure even more striking than I remembered from our previous encounter. She wore a pair of crisp white slacks and a white silk blouse that opened tastefully at the neck.

My gaze traced the graceful line of her neck to the top of her chest, captivated by the gentle curve revealed there.

Her golden blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face with a natural elegance. As I absorbed the sight of her, the Dutch shepherd named Leontios trotted over to her side, standing with a protective air as she assessed me with a watchful gaze.

“Is that one yours?” I inquired, nodding toward the impressive dog standing loyally by her side.

“Yes, she is.” Cali rested her hand firmly on the dog’s broad back, as if to claim her as her own. I immediately knew a profound connection existed between Cali and this magnificent creature. “Her name is Leo.”

“That’s interesting because her name tag doesn’t agree with you,” I remarked, arching an eyebrow. The sight of her cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink was a small victory.

“I know, but I swear I didn’t know you when I named her. Leontios is a girl’s name, after all.”

“I’m not sure about that,” I said, feigning skepticism. “And if it’s true, then my parents were tragically misinformed when they named me.”

Her laughter was a melody that danced through the air, and when she shrugged, it was with such charm that I felt an overwhelming urge to hold her close and kiss her.

But I knew it was far too early for such an impulsive act. If I had any hope of getting closer to Cali, it would require a slow, measured approach. For now, I would have to suppress those impulses.

“Would you like to go out to the gardens? I’d love to show you around,” Cali suggested with enthusiasm.

“That sounds wonderful,” I replied, falling into step behind her.

We strolled through a lavish sunken living room, where a grand stone fireplace dominated one wall and expansive floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the sprawling estate beyond.

Cali pushed open a pair of glass doors, and we stepped onto a terrace, the dogs trailing behind us, their paws pattering softly against the floor.

“Do you have any pets?” Cali asked, turning her head to catch my response.

“Yes, I have a shepherd of my own.” I thought of my more-than-exuberant companion. “His name is Cosmo. You’ll have to meet him sometime.”

“I’d love to,” she said, casting a warm smile over her shoulder. We paused near the stone railing, taking in the sight of the expansive rose garden below. “Maybe when you finally invite me over for that moussaka.”

Her playful wink made my heart skip a beat.

“Absolutely,” I agreed, struggling to maintain my composure in her captivating presence.

Sunlight spilled over her shoulders, each ray threading through her hair until it glowed like burnished gold. When she turned and smiled, her eyes curved into perfect crescents, and something in my chest clenched so tight I thought I’d stop breathing.

I pressed both hands flat against my thighs and drew in a measured breath. Let air fill my lungs. Released it without trembling. The confident businessman I’d rehearsed in my head dissolved when she caught my eye.

Instead, I felt like a schoolboy—knees weak, voice stuck behind a shuttered door. Even so, an odd calm settled beneath the chaos, a comfort I’d never known.

Cali led me down a sweep of stone steps, each slab worn smooth by untold footsteps. Vines marched off at the hilltop into the haze, with neat rows disappearing beneath distant pines.

A wrought-iron bistro table stood under a green umbrella, but Cali shrugged off her heels and sank onto the grass. She tucked her knees under her chin, and the two dogs flopped onto either side, noses nudging her hands.

“This is my favorite spot,” she said, watching birds flicker between branches.

I eased down beside her, the grass cool against my suit trousers. A breeze carried a hint of jasmine from her perfume, the same scent from the last time we met, and I barely resisted the pull to lean in, to let that fragrance fill my senses.

“It’s a beautiful view,” I said, doing my damnedest to sound normal. “The vines look like ribbons laid out by careful hands, and those hills hold every story this land has ever told.”

Cali tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Sometimes I spend hours observing the curve of each branch and listening to sparrows argue. My sisters tell me I’m wasting my time, that daydreaming leads to nowhere.”

I remembered hiding in my grandfather’s closet to escape chores, my eldest brother’s exasperated sigh when I couldn’t keep still. The ache of missing them tightened around my ribs.

“Isn’t it every older sibling’s duty to fuss over you?” I asked. “Mine drove me mad, but I’d give anything to have them back.”