Chapter 88
The formal dinner was served in the banquet hall, where the long oak table was set for thirty guests. Those present were a mix of Kensington relatives, key investors, and figures from the local wine industry. I was seated between Christian and a famous oenologist whose name I immediately forgot, while Anthony positioned himself strategically close to Joseph.
To my relief, Annabelle sat diagonally across from me, winking over her glass of wine whenever one of the guests made a pretentious remark.
The first course was a delicate starter of scallops in lemon butter, served with impeccable presentation. But at the first whiff, my stomach twisted again. The smell of seafood was strangely overpowering and nauseating.
“Not hungry?” Christian asked quietly, noticing my hesitation.
“Just a little queasy,” I murmured, forcing a smile. “Must be nerves.”
He frowned slightly, concerned.
“Do you want to step out for a bit?”
“No, I’m fine.” I reached for my water glass, avoiding the wine that, for some reason, held no appeal for me tonight either. “I just need to adjust.”
A few seats away, I caught Anthony watching our interaction, his calculating gaze disguised behind a polite smile. Victoria, beside him, seemed fully absorbed in conversation with Lawrence, Christian’s father-who rarely showed as much enthusiasm as he was displaying now.
The conversation at the table flowed over safe topics the exceptionally good weather that year, prospects for the next harvest, harmless anecdotes about familiar figures in the wine world. I joined in when required, grateful for the years of practice at bridal events, where I’d learned how to keep a polite smile and ask questions at just the right moment.
It was during dessert of an elaborate parfait of red fruits with a port wine reduction that Anthony finally addressed the subject that had clearly brought him to the estate.
“So, Christian, I heard your organic project has faced some… setbacks recently.”
A sudden silence fell over the table. Christian calmly set his spoon down beside his plate before replying:
“Just temporary obstacles. Nothing that compromises the long-term vision.”
Anthony nodded with a predatory glint in his eyes.
“Naturally. But the Euradian Board is quite interested in understanding exactly how this… incident happened. After all, it represents a significant investment.”
“We’re investigating,” Christian replied, his voice controlled, though I could feel the tension in his body beside me. “Tomorrow I’ll show you the project myself, along with the new security systems we’ve put in place.”
“Excellent.” Anthony raised his glass in a polite toast. “I’m looking forward to it. Victoria, you have a particular interest in the organic line, don’t you, darling?”
Victoria smiled sweetly.
“Absolutely. In Euradia, the demand for certified organic wines is growing exponentially. It would be such a shame if Kensington were to miss this… opportunity.”
The veiled threat hung in the air like cheap perfume. Across from me, I saw Marcus gripping his napkin tightly, while Joseph suddenly seemed much older and more tired.
“Kensington has always been at the forefront of innovation,” I interjected, surprising even myself. All turned toward me. “It’s tradition in the family, isn’t it, Joseph?”
The patriarch smiled, a spark returning to his eyes.
“Precisely! My father, God rest his soul, always said: ‘The strongest vine is the one that knows how to bend with the wind without breaking.” “He lifted his glass. “A toast to the future of Kensington and to the project that will keep our name at the forefront for another generation!”
The moment of tension passed as everyone raised their glasses, but the message had been clear: Anthony wasn’t there just to assess the project, but to find flaws in the current CEO’s leadership. It was obvious he still nurtured ambitions of taking his cousin’s place at the head of Kensington Wineries, despite Christian having consolidated his position with the marriage. The family power game continued, only with new strategies.



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