Wife, Wine, War
My family owned Belgard Estate, a historic wine property that had recently gone viral after serving as the backdrop for a series of advertisements and product livestreams.
On one occasion, my butler and I could not even enter the grounds. Influencers crowded the entrance, phones raised, security overwhelmed. My fiancée apologized.
"The mayor wanted to borrow the estate, dear. I couldn't tell him no," she said. "Just bear with it for a while, okay? Once the trend dies down, I'll have them all cleared out. Trust me."
I trusted her. I never raised the issue again.
Some time later, my grandfather prepared to celebrate his 90th birthday. I returned to the estate to retrieve our finest vintage for the occasion, only to find myself nearly crushed by a shrieking crowd packed outside the gates.
I slipped away and made my way to the back entrance after someone in the crowd called me a "free-riding bum."
Bewildered, I was ready to present proof of ownership when a woman shouted over the noise, "Didn't you hear? Miss LePenn has already announced that Belgard Estate has been given to Jacques Martin! I don't care how big a fan you are of him. You still have to buy a ticket to see him like the rest of us!"
I stood there, stunned.
Jacques? The first man I had ever allowed to use this estate for a product livestream? It belonged to him now?
And since when had Sylvia become the mistress of this place? Since when did she even have a boyfriend?
Enough was enough. It was time to bring these people's business with Belgard Estate to an end.