Tignanello by Mina Rivera
Written for SU4K - Prompt by Katalina
Beta: Sue273 and HollettLA
Summary: She left him without explanation, now she returns to make things right. Will he give her the chance to explain? Will she be brave enough to face him? This is the story of two families in a feud, which started to end the day a kiss was stolen ten years ago.
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No copyright infringement is intended.
~ This story is for Katalina, my mother and I. We are warriors in a world where the war is fought inside ourselves. ~
TIGNANELLO
~ PREFACE ~
The Antinori Cignolina family is one of the most respected and admired families in the Chianti Classico region. They own several vineyards, each one dedicated to the production of a specific type of wine.
One of their most famous wines comes from a forty-seven hectare vineyard within the Santa Cristina estate named Tenuta Tignanello. Its wine has been made from 85% Sangiovese, 10% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 5% Cabernet Franc since 1982, and is to this day the best wine ever produced in Italy.
When the Tignanello wine was first introduced, a dispute about its recipe was started by the Solaia Cullen Winery. This twenty-two hectare vineyard sits adjacent to Tignanello in the Mercatale Val di Pesa zone of Chianti Classico and belongs to the Mansini Cullen family.
Both families have been feuding ever since, but both heads of the families have had enough.
This is the story of how the Cignolina and Mansini families planned to end the feud and unite their vineyards.
And it all started with a stolen kiss...
~ CAPITOLO UNO ~
La Mia Famiglia Tradizionale
I stood by the truck, waiting for Emmett to bring out the last case. It was barely eleven in the morning, and I was already sweating bullets. The sun had been unrelenting this past couple of weeks, and it worried me a bit, overexposure could damage the grapes.
I had been administering the Solaia Cullen vineyard for five years now, and I loved it. From planting the vines, to taking care of the fields, and then the harvest... every aspect of this land was rich and full of tradition. It was what my family loved and what I grew up loving as well.
My great-grandfather was the first Cullen in the region. He had been a bored English doctor who, in a spur-of-the-moment decision, packed his bags and moved to Florence. He then travelled south and discovered Tuscany, where he married my great-grandmother only two months after meeting her.
My father, Carlisle Cullen, was different though. He didn't want to make wine, so he went to school in London to become a lawyer. But when he came back the summer of his last year of university, he met my mother and fell madly in love with her. Esmeralda Mansini came from a long line of winemakers. She had been travelling from Florence, where she went to school, and bumped into my father on the bus. They talked the entire bus ride, and according to my mother, he was already planning to buy a ring as soon as they stepped off of the bus.
My father never left Tuscany after that summer, and two years later I was born.
"Here it is, the last one," said Emmett, startling me out of my thoughts.
He pushed the crate into the back of the trunk, then slammed down the door, locking it tightly.
"Great, let's hurry. I don't want to be late."
I threw down the cigarette I had been smoking, grinding my heel into the butt as I unlocked the driver's side of the truck and got in.
"Think she will be there?" asked Emmett when we were only a couple of miles away from town.
I shrugged. "I don't think so; Carlo said she was gonna work in a fancy firm in London."
"That sucks, man. Poor Carlo will have to give the vineyard to Marcus once he retires, though everyone knows he wanted his daughter to run it for him."
I chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, well... she always wanted something different and better."
Emmett turned to look at me, no doubt hearing the contempt in my voice.
"Sorry, man, forgot she was a sore subject. Her being the one that got away and all."
"More like the one that ran away," I muttered under my breath.
We didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride. I was lost in my memories of summers past, chocolate brown eyes, and stolen moments when we reached the town.
I shook my head and drove straight for the market.
Decorations were everywhere, the Summer Festival was here and everyone was in a celebratory mood. It was my favorite time of the year; it opened the season for harvest and the tourists poured in, giving the small town businesses the push to keep going every year.
I parked just outside Signora Renata's, one of the most famous restaurants in Tuscany. Their food was known around the world because of their classical homemade dishes with the authentic taste of Tuscan cuisine. It was definitely my favorite restaurant, and it didn't hurt that my aunt owned the place.
"Topolino! So good to see you," Zia Renata squealed, kissing each of my cheeks twice.
"Buon giorno, zia. You remember Emmett, right?"
"Madonna, you get bigger every time I see you!"
"Buon giorno, zia. The Mansinis feed me well, especially Signora Esme," Emmett chuckled, hugging Zia Renata.
I rolled my eyes. "My mother only cooks the food; you are the one that eats it all."
Zia Renata laughed, pulling back from the hug and coming to cup my face. "You look well, topolino. Hopefully, that puttana schifosa won't come here today."
"Zia!" I shook my head. "Please, just don't start that again, and stop with the name calling."
"Hush, she deserves more names after what she did to you."
"Maybe, but please... just don't. She was never any of those things and you know it, zia."
She huffed, but thankfully dropped the subject.
"We better drop the crates before the wine gets too warm. C'mon, Emmett." I waved him over to the back of the truck. Zia Renata went back to the restaurant, no doubt to prepare something for us to eat. We made quick work of it and set up the crates in the basement, choosing to keep them close to the door for when the time came to take them to the plaza.
After a fantastic plate of my aunt's tortellinis, I drove us back to Solaia, my family's vineyard.
Emmett could tell my thoughts were flying a mile a minute, so he made sure to give me peace and space to think. After my aunt's comments, not to mention the conversation some of the old ladies were having at the market we overheard, I had been on pins and needles, frustrated with the situation.
I never intended for her to be the bad guy, and I might have played the wounded part a bit too long, but I just couldn't get over her. You just didn't spend twelve years of your life in love with someone and then try to move on in the blink of an eye.
She had hurt me, deeply, and the fact she just ran off in the middle of the night like a thief left me bereft. I had to find out she had run off to some guy who was waiting for her across the pond from her father. It had been like ripping my heart out and stabbing me in the back at the same time.
I had loved her... hell, I still loved her.
Why had I ever thought she was the one for me?
Our families were enemies for all intents and purposes. This stupid feud about the Tignanello's recipe had been going for far too long, and she had agreed with me.
At first I had no idea how she felt about me, growing up surrounded by relatives speaking ill things about your family didn't exactly set a good foundation for love, but she saw through all that; she saw me for who I was. It was one of the reasons she kissed me in the middle of the plaza at the end of the festival all those years ago. I was only thirteen years old, and she just came to me, and out of the blue dragged me to the dance floor and kissed me. I barely had time to react before she was being pulled away by her brother Alec.
Since that kiss, I knew she was gonna be the one I was going to marry.
Unfortunately, she had other plans, and they didn't include me.
~* T *~
"Tesoro, what are you doing out here all alone?" I heard a heavy Italian-accented voice ask behind me.
I turned around to see my mother covered in flour up to her elbows.
"Just thinking, Ma. What are you making this late?" I had been sitting on the back porch steps for almost an hour, watching the sun set. It had been a long day, and I just wanted to wind down alone.
She smiled and sat down next to me. "I was making some pasta for tomorrow. It is going to be so busy and I thought I'd make a little today."
"Are you making your pansotti tomorrow?"
"Of course! It is family tradition."
I nodded, my mouth watering at the thought of those huge raviolis covered in that creamy genovese sauce my mom made. It was like ambrosia and she only made them for the festival, which just made me want them more.
"I look forward to it."
My mom giggled and mock slapped my shoulder. "I do not know who is worse with food, you or Emmett. Always wanting to eat my dishes all day."
I laughed and kissed her cheek. "Not my fault you are a master in the kitchen."
That comment made her blush and shake her head at me. "Such a charmer, just like your papa."
That brought a sad smile from me.
"I miss him," I murmured, looking down to my shoes.
"I know, tesoro. I miss him too. Every day."
It had been five years since my dad passed away. It happened so fast; we never even had the time to prepare ourselves.
My dad had been a very healthy man. He was always up before dawn to run his five miles religiously every day. Mom always made sure he ate right, in spite of his love for red meat. He would also enjoy a small glass of wine from his personal collection every afternoon, but that was pretty much all the alcohol he would consume. He never drank more than one or two glasses a day. So, imagine our surprise when we found out he had stomach cancer. It started with constant indigestion, then moved on to stomachaches, and then to full blown pain, all within the span of a month.
My mother took him to hospital when one day he collapsed from the pain just as he got home. It was an aggressive cancer, one with those fancy names you can never repeat. All of a sudden, my sister Alice and I were getting DNA tests to make sure we didn't have the gene for that type of cancer at the same time my dad had to get his stomach removed.
Luckily, neither Alice nor I had the gene, but my dad... it was too late for him. The doctors had discovered masses in his liver, spleen, and kidneys when they operated him. They gave us no hope for treatment for him. They put him on a morphine drip, and two weeks later I got the call from Mom that he had passed away while I was asleep.
It was a rough year for us, but we pulled through.
Though it seemed fate had it in for me, for not a year had gone by when I lost my best friend.
"He would be so proud of what you have done with Solaia, Ted. You and my little capretta are the best things I have ever done in my life."
I snickered at the nickname my father had given Alice when she was a child. She had been so full of energy, like a wild little goat around the house, earning her the name of capretta: little goat.
My mom threw her arm around my shoulders. "I am proud of you. I don't think I tell you enough, tesoro."
I shook my head, chuckling. "You tell me every day, Mama."
"Still not enough." She kissed my cheek and went back inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I looked up to sky and wondered if she was already here, watching the same starry sky at this same moment. I shook my head and gave a resigned sigh, knowing full well that every thought I had would always go back to her.
"Damn you, Isabella. How do I get you outta my head?" I asked the night sky.
Like thousands of times before, I didn't get an answer, and I honestly didn't know if I wanted one.
She had been the reason for me to become a better man, but with each year that passed without her coming back, I knew I had lost her. I didn't know what I had done for her to stop loving me. I had been there for her through everything, but it seemed it wasn't enough in the end. I knew our families' dispute wasn't the reason for her leaving —she never cared about any of that— it must've been something else, something she never told me about, something she had kept to herself.
Or maybe I was reading too much into things, and she just left because she wanted to. It was no secret she didn't want to run her father's business, so maybe she found her chance to escape from all of this and took it.
I guess I would never know unless I asked her, and tomorrow could be my chance to do so.
That was if she came at all.
I shook my head; I was going in circles and I knew I wasn't going to get any answers tonight on my own. So, with a resigned sigh, I went back inside and up to my room; tomorrow was going to be a hectic day and needed my rest.
I pulled the covers over my body and closed my eyes, and just like every night for the past five years, I dreamed of Isabella.
Thanks for Lisa and Sue for lending her beta services. I wrote this story for Katalina and I hope I did her prompt justice. :)
Chapter 2 will be up next Tuesday. Happy New Year Everybody! xoxo ~Mina