When Love Finds Its Way Back (Cassienne and Dreston) novel Chapter 164

Chapter One Hundred And Sixty–Four: Richardson Family Estate Vineyard.

The following day, at the Richardson’s family estate in the city. A customized van waited to convey Garry and his friends to his family’s Vineyard.

The van was not an ordinary luxury van. It was built like a moving lounge with dark tinted windows, matte

black exterior. It is discreet but expensive. 1

Inside, it was designed like a private jet cabin on wheels soft cream leather seats arranged in pairs facing each other, separated by polished wood partitions. Each pair had its own privacy panel that could slide up if needed.

Ambient lighting glowed softly along the ceiling. A built–in bar rested at the center with crystal glasses secured in place.

Garry stood beside the van, hands in his pockets, looking satisfied.

“Gentlemen,” he said as Dreston and Ray approached. “And ladies.”

Aurora, Daisy, and Cassienne walked behind them, dressed in relaxed but elegant travel outfits. Cassienne wore high–waisted beige trousers with a fitted white blouse and a light blazer. Her hair was down today, loose around her shoulders.

“This is unnecessary,” Dreston said calmly, though a faint smile betrayed him.

Garry shrugged. “It’s a three–day retreat. Comfort matters.”

Ray ran his hand along the van’s side. “You bought this just for weekends? That’s ridiculous.”

“For business trips,” Garry corrected. “And to impress women.”

Aurora rolled her eyes, but she smiled.

Dreston’s convoy arrived right after. Two black SUVS pulled in behind them, each carrying his bodyguards. Steve stepped out of the first vehicle, scanning the surroundings instinctively.

“We’ll follow at a distance,” Steve informed Dreston.

Dreston gave a satisfying nod. And the group climbed inside the van. The doors closed softly behind them. And immediately, the outside noise disappeared.

The interior was quiet and cool. Very private. Cassienne looked around, and was impressed.

“This is ridículous,” Daisy said, touching the leather seat. “In a good way.”

“Separate seating,” Garry explained, gesturing to the layout. “Each couple gets their own space. Sliding panels if you need privacy.”

Daisy raised a brow. “Bold of you to assume.”

Ray glanced at her but said nothing. They all settled in.

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Dreston and Cassienne took the rear pair of seats. Garry and Aurora occupied the middle. While Ray and Daisy sat near the front.

The van pulled smoothly onto the highway, the two SUVS following behind at a respectful distance.

Soft music played through the speakers. Nothing loud. Just instrumental jazz.

The city slowly began to thin.

Tall buildings gave way to smaller structures. Then open roads. Then greenery.

Cassienne leaned slightly toward the window. The further they drove, the lighter she felt.

“You’re already breathing differently,” Dreston murmured beside her.

She turned to him. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

She smiled faintly. Maybe she was.

Up front, Daisy was laughing at something Garry had said.

“Wine makes people confess things,” Garry announced dramatically.

Ray responded dryly, “So does silence.”

Daisy looked at Ray sideways. “Is that your way of saying you want secrets?”

“No,” Ray replied calmly. “It’s my way of saying people talk when they’re comfortable.”

There was something in his tone.

Daisy leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs.

“Comfort can be dangerous,” she said.

Ray’s eyes didn’t leave her. “I don’t get scared easily.”

The van ride continued in relaxed conversation. They stopped once briefly for coffee at a private rest area arranged in advance by Garry’s team.

Three hours later, the scenery transformed completely.

Rolling hills stretched endlessly before them. Long, neat rows of grapevines lined the landscape like green waves frozen in motion.

The van slowed as it approached a large wrought–iron gate. A sign carved into stone stood proudly beside it:

Richardson Estate Vineyard

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The gates opened automatically, and the van drove up a long, tree–lined driveway. Olive trees and cypress trees framed the path. In the distance, a grand stone manor stood at the top of a gentle slope.

Cassienne leaned forward slightly.

“It’s beautiful.”

The manor was not flashy. It was old–world elegance, stone walls covered in ivy, and large wooden doors. Tall windows reflecting the sun, and a wide balcony overlooking the vineyard.

Beside the manor, slightly downhill, stood a modern glass structure–the wine production facility. Stainless steel tanks were visible inside, and workers moving calmly within.

“Welcome to my family’s legacy,” Garry said quietly.

The van stopped in front of the manor. Staff were already waiting.

Dreston’s SUVs parked a short distance away. Steve stepped out first, scanning the perimeter, then nodding.

They exited the van one by one. The air felt different here. It was a bit warmer and it carried the faint scent of soil and grapes.

Aurora walked forward first, running her fingers lightly over the leaves of a nearby vine.

“This is unreal,” she said.

Daisy stretched her arms above her head.

“If I get drunk here, nobody judges me.”

Ray stepped closer to her. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

She looked at him with amusement. “Only if I’m worth catching.”

He didn’t smile. But he replied. “You are.” 1

Cassienne stood beside Dreston, staring at the endless rows of vines. It felt peaceful, in a good way.

Garry began the tour immediately. They walked through the vineyard rows. He explained the different grape varieties planted across the estate.

“Cabernet Sauvignon on that side,” he said, pointing toward the western slope. “Merlot closer to the lake. We separate them based on sunlight exposure and soil composition.”

Cassienne listened carefully.

“You adjust irrigation manually?” she asked.

“Partly automated. But the best harvests still require human judgment.”

She nodded. There was something grounding about that. But they continued toward the production

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facility.

Inside, stainless steel fermentation tanks stood tall. Workers monitored temperature panels and recorded data.

“This is where the juice ferments,” Garry explained. “For red wines, we keep the skins during fermentation. That’s what gives it depth.”

Daisy raised a hand jokingly.

“Is there a part where we stomp grapes like in the movies?”

Garry grinned.

“There is a demonstration setup.”

Her eyes lit up.

Later in the afternoon, they gathered outside near a traditional wooden pressing barrel prepared for guests.

They removed their shoes.

Daisy stepped in first. Cold grape skins squished under her feet and she squealed.

“This is disgusting!”

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