“Matteo’s condition was told to you in confidence,” Renzo mutters angrily.
“I…I thought everyone knew” Fontana steps back, physically, suddenly aware of hisfaux pas.
Matteo is not well? What’s wrong with him? And no one told me.
No one.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Renzo’s jaw tighten.
See Alba’s distress. “He’s not well?” she asks Nico who shakes his head.
Fontana keeps talking. “Mi dispiace tanto. I am so very sorry.”
He pats Nico’s arm, and I don’t think he knows how close he is to losing that hand because I have never seen Nico this angry.
“I know Matteo is family to all of you. And I hope I can have the same role.”
I gape at Davide Fontana. Great winemaker or not, the man is an imbecile. Can’t he see that we’re all in shock, and he wants to continue to sell his candidacy?
“I’m honored to be considered,” he adds, underscoring his uncouthness. “It’s not often a house like yours opens a position like that.”
His arrogance is breathtaking.
Confidential interviews. Private process. And he’s announcing it over dessert like a conquest.
I finally glance at Nico, whose jaw is so tight that it may snap. His eyes are on Fontana who is mistaking his silence for approval, which is just plain dumb.
“I’m very much looking forward to continuing the conversation,” he says to Nico, then turns back to me with a smile that feels almost taunting. “I hope we’ll work closely together.”
This is the man they want to succeed Matteo? This is the man who is supposed to be better than me? Winemaking is not just about knowing the vines, it’s about leadership, and this man couldn’t lead a caterpillar.
“Thank you, Davide, for coming all the way to Florence to meet with our executives. I’m sure someone from the House of Alighieri will reach out to you shortly.” I give him a cool nod. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
It’s a definite dismissal. I am an Alighieri heiress after all and I will not sit here and let this odious man pretend like he has a chance in hell to lead my family’s legacy.
He hesitates—just a fraction too long—then laughs it off, murmuring pleasantries before retreating to his table.
The moment he’s gone, Toni exhales sharply. “What’s wrong with Matteo?”
I wait.
“He’s dying,” Nico says hoarsely.
I gasp.
Nico’s hand comes to my shoulder, but I jerk It away. No. He doesn’t get to comfort me, not when he….
“You knew, and you didn’t tell any of us?” Alba accuses.
“Matteo doesn’t want anyone to know,” Nico protests.
“Except apparently that horrible man, Davide,” Toni quips. “Renzo, did you know?”
Renzo nods, his eyes on Toni. She shakes her head, her eyes filled with tears. “You didn’t tell any of us.”
“What’s wrong with him?” I ask, my voice way stronger than I expected it to be.
“Pancreatic cancer. It has metastasized.” Nico rubs a hand over his face. “Alessia, I’ve been begging him to tell you, but he…he didn’t want to burden you.”
