The Abandoned Groom Married his Ex's Enemy!

Giovanni had joked about coming home from Italy owning a vineyard.

Apparently, the universe had misunderstood.

A law firm contacted him within two weeks.

The courier arrived at Mercer Group carrying a thick envelope containing legal documents, several old photographs, property records, and enough correspondence to make Giovanni wonder what exactly his family had been doing without telling him.

Then he found the vineyard photographs.

Yes.

A vineyard.

In Tuscany.

According to the documents, the property had belonged to his grandfather, who had left it to Giovanni’s father, Matteo Mercer. Since Matteo had already passed away, his interest in the estate had eventually descended to Giovanni.

Documents still needed verification and formalities in Italy, so they requested his presence as soon as reasonably possible.

Giovanni stared at the photographs for a while.

Then he filed for a month’s leave from Mercer Group and booked a flight.

The inheritance included more than the vineyard.

There was also a villa.

Apparently, a rather familiar one.

”Mr. Mercer?”

The man waiting near the entrance appeared to be in his late fifties, dressed simply in a collared shirt and trousers.

Giovanni stepped out of the car.

”Yes.”

”Lorenzo Bellini.” The man offered his hand. ”I’ve been managing the property for the estate. Welcome.”

”Thank you.”

Fortunately, Lorenzo spoke excellent English, which made the initial tour considerably easier.

The villa had been maintained remarkably well. The stone exterior showed its age without looking neglected, while green shutters framed the windows overlooking the Tuscan countryside.

”The villa was rented to guests?” Giovanni asked.

”Yes. Mostly holiday rentals,” Lorenzo explained as they entered. ”The estate had expenses even without the family living here. Keeping the villa occupied helped cover part of them.”

”Makes sense.”

”I stopped accepting new reservations when the lawyers confirmed you would be coming.”

They had nearly reached the sitting room when Lorenzo stopped.

”There is something else.”

That sounded ominous for something involving a vacation rental.

”What?”

”The last guests left something behind.”

Lorenzo led him toward a painting propped carefully against the wall.

It was a landscape.

Not professional, Giovanni thought, although certainly not bad. The artist had painted the countryside surrounding the villa, with the distant hills softened beneath a broad Tuscan sky.

”They forgot it?”

”I thought so at first. But when I contacted them, I was told we could keep it.”

Lorenzo retrieved the old guest register and opened it to the final completed entry.

Giovanni looked down.

Sebastian, Victoria.

Beneath it was another name.

Sebastian, Dominic.

Giovanni stared.

”Something wrong?”

”No.”

He looked at the painting again.

Small world.

Apparently, Victoria and Dominic Sebastian had taken their Italian vacation in the very villa Giovanni had inherited.

”The younger Mr. Sebastian painted it,” Lorenzo explained. ”He spent quite a lot of time outside with his easel.”

”I know him.”

Lorenzo looked surprised.

”Personally?”

”Unfortunately.”

There was a short silence.

Giovanni reconsidered.

”That sounded worse than necessary.”

Lorenzo wisely didn’t comment.

Giovanni walked toward the window and looked outside.

From here, he could understand why Dominic had chosen to paint.

The view was splendid.

Rolling hills stretched beneath the afternoon sun, broken by rows of cypress trees and old stone buildings in the distance. Even from the villa, portions of the vineyard could be seen following the land’s natural slope.

No wonder Victoria and Dominic had selected this place from all the rentals available online.

Giovanni took out his phone.

Alexander answered shortly afterward.

”You arrived?”

”I did.”

”Everything all right?”

”So far.”

Giovanni took a photograph of the villa, then another of the landscape beyond it and sent both.

Alexander was quiet for several seconds.

”That’s yours?”

”Apparently.”

”The whole thing?”

”The villa and the vineyard.”

Another pause.

Then Alexander laughed.

Giovanni frowned.

”What?”

”Nothing.”

”Alex.”

”I was just remembering what you said at the hospital.”

Giovanni remembered too.

Dominic had told him to visit Tuscany without turning the trip into business or coming home owning a vineyard.

Technically, Giovanni hadn’t bought anything.

”I inherited it.”

”That distinction will definitely save you.”

”Thank you for your support.”

”Anytime.”

Giovanni looked toward the distant rows of vines.

”I’m visiting the vineyard after lunch.”

”Call me later.”

”I will.”

”And Giovanni?”

”Yes?”

”Try not to inherit anything else before dinner.”

Giovanni ended the call.

The vineyard was larger than it had appeared from the villa.

Rows of grapevines followed the land’s gentle slopes, separated by narrow service paths that disappeared between the hills. Farther down stood several practical buildings for equipment, storage, and processing harvested grapes.

Unlike the villa, the vineyard had never stopped operating.

That surprised Giovanni.

”I expected it to have been sold,” he admitted.

Lorenzo shook his head.

”Your grandfather left instructions against selling the property while ownership was being settled. The lawyers handling the estate kept the existing operation in place.”

The vineyard already had permanent workers, seasonal labor arrangements, suppliers, and contracts with local businesses. Shutting everything down while lawyers searched for the proper heir would’ve damaged the vines, eliminated jobs, and reduced the value of the estate itself.

So they hadn’t.

The estate continued paying the workers and the vineyard’s operating expenses. Wine sales provided most of the revenue, while income from renting the villa helped with property maintenance.

”And when there was a shortfall?” Giovanni asked.

”The estate maintained reserves.”

”Taxes?”

”Paid from the estate account, along with insurance, utilities, and the required agricultural and business expenses. The accountants have records for everything.”

That was reassuring.

”And profits?”

”Whatever wasn’t needed for operations remained with the estate.”

Giovanni looked across the vines.

”So nobody has been waiting for me to arrive with a watering can.”

Lorenzo smiled.

”No, Mr. Mercer. The vines would’ve died long before we found you.”

”Good.”

A small permanent team handled the vineyard year-round, with additional workers hired during the busiest periods. An experienced vineyard supervisor oversaw cultivation and harvest, while a local winemaker managed production with the same facilities and outside partners the estate had used for years.

Giovanni wasn’t inheriting an abandoned field.

He was inheriting a functioning business.

That was considerably more complicated.

He looked at the orderly rows stretching down the hillside.

His grandfather had owned this.

His father should’ve inherited it.

Now, somehow, it had reached him.

Lorenzo handed him another folder.

”These are the most recent operating reports.”

Giovanni accepted it.

Of course there were reports.

He opened the folder and looked at the first page.

Then he remembered Alexander laughing at him over the phone.

Giovanni sighed.

”Is something wrong?” Lorenzo asked.

”No.”

He looked over the vineyard again.

”I was specifically told to come to Tuscany without turning it into a business trip.”

Lorenzo glanced at the folder in his hands.

”I see.”

”And definitely not to come home owning a vineyard.”

Lorenzo considered that.

”Well, technically, you already owned it before you arrived.”

Giovanni looked at him.

Lorenzo smiled.

Giovanni decided he liked the property manager.

”Do you want to stay on as the Villa’s Property Manager?”

”I would be honored.” Lorenzo Bellini gave a low bow.