Solace.
It lingered in the air like the scent of old vines and morning mist, wrapping the Real de Lara estate in a quiet that was almost sacred. Perched high above the valley of La Rioja Alavesa, the manor stood in dignified silence, a sentinel carved from stone and legacy. Below, neat rows of dark Tempranillo vines stretched across the land in disciplined lines, their gnarled limbs heavy with dew and memory. Olive trees framed the estate like ancient guardians, their silver-green leaves whispering to the wind. There was no sound but the rustle of leaves and the slow breath of winter. Tahimik ang paligid—pero ramdam ang bigat ng kasaysayan. In this stillness, there was a kind of peace, the kind only earned by enduring centuries of fire, feud, and rebirth.
The manor had once been proud, towering over the vineyards, but it was razed in a feud that spanned generations—an old vendetta that had shaped the Real de Lara destiny. The stones were long gone, the land left to rot, until Don Alonzo rebuilt it. Stone by stone. Brick by brick. He'd reclaimed the north, anchoring the family among the vines and groves. The Italians ruled the south, but the Real de Lara name had risen again—no longer a whisper, but a warning.
And it was all thanks to Danielle's subtle marketing genius.
Now, it was Axel's turn to carry the torch.
Back at the estate, far from Danielle's quiet home in Antipolo, Axel—Dos to only a select few—was deep in thought. The wind from his private jet tousled his dark hair as he stared at the glowing screen before him. He'd just finished reviewing the reports when the captain announced their descent. The results from the wine line launch were staggering. Hype had flooded every corner of social media, and sales were projected to exceed three billion. The market was on fire.
And it was all thanks to Danielle's subtle marketing genius.
They stepped down onto the tarmac, where two black Rolls-Royces awaited—sleek and polished, symbols of quiet power. Axel slid into the backseat beside his father, Don Alonzo, who settled in with the ease of a man born to command. Across the way, Caden and Nadia, heirs from a branch family of the Familia, climbed into the second car.
As the engine purred softly, the conversation between father and son began, careful and measured.
"The next shipment is scheduled for early next month," Axel said, glancing out at the sprawling vineyards. "Our loyal clients will notice the refinement. Subtle, but unmistakable."
Don Alonzo's eyes gleamed with approval. "Good. Keep it that way. Our strength lies in control, not spectacle. Let the others chase the headlines."
Axel nodded, the unspoken weight of legacy hanging between them.
The Rolls-Royce glided along the winding road toward the estate. Waiting at the grand entrance was Laura, Axel's mother, radiant and composed, a quiet anchor after years apart.
"Axel," she said softly, opening her arms. "Welcome home."
He stepped out, the distance of years melting away in her embrace.
Here, beneath the fading light, the Familia gathered—not just in power, but in blood and heart.
Laura ushered Axel through the tall archways of the estate, her heels echoing softly against the polished stone. The scent of aged oak and lavender hung faintly in the air.
"Go on, freshen up, love," she said, pausing at the foot of the grand staircase. "Dinner will be served in twenty."
No fuss, no ceremony—just the quiet precision of a woman who ran the household like a kingdom.
When Axel returned, the long table was already set, a modest spread compared to their usual feasts. Laura sat at the head, her posture immaculate, a glass of deep red wine resting by her fingers.
The first few bites passed in silence, silver cutlery against porcelain the only sound. Then—
"When are you bringing her over?"
Axel blinked, pausing mid-sip. "Dan?" he raised his brows. It has only been months since she started with us...
"I don't think it would be wise, Mama."
Laura tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable.
"I've known men to fight wars over far less, Axel."
He let out a quiet sigh, setting his glass down.
"She's sharp, intuitive. But this world? It's… a lot."
"Exactly why I'd like to meet her." Laura's voice was gentle but firm. "A woman who can ground you—bring you home after all these years—she must be extraordinary."
She paused, her gaze softening just slightly.
"But I also know you, Axel. You guard what you care about with fire. Just... don't let that fire scorch what you're trying to protect."
He looked down at his plate, then back at her.
She sees more than I ever say out loud.
"Not yet," he murmured. "But soon."
Laura gave a quiet nod, her smile faint but satisfied. "Good. I'll make sure there's lemon tart when she comes."
The dining room doors creaked open just as Axel lifted his fork again. Don Alonzo strode in, jacket slung over one shoulder, the scent of cigar smoke trailing faintly behind him.
"You're talking about the girl, aren't you?" he said as he poured himself a glass of wine without waiting for an answer. "The one who made you do that holiday stunt the whole board's still whispering about."
Axel didn't flinch.
"We're not discussing this, Papa."
"But I am." Alonzo raised his glass with a smirk. "And so is half of Madrid. You've got stock brokers asking for curated gift boxes now. What's next—perfumed olive oil with love notes?"
Laura arched a brow, but said nothing.
"She's not just the girl, Alonzo," she said after a beat, her tone smooth but cutting. "She's the reason your son came home."
That shut him up for a full three seconds.
Then—
"Well then. I suppose she deserves the tart, too." He stabbed a piece of lamb and muttered, "God help us all."
Dinner at the estate. Nothing ever simple. Nothing ever soft. But maybe… this time… it could be different.
-
"Pinot Noir... from La Rioja," Axel muttered to himself, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the armrest of his chair. He was in his private office, the dim light from the desk lamp casting a soft glow on the papers before him. The notes Danielle had sent, the projections, the figures—they were solid. Very solid.
Her choice to include the Pinot Noir, the olive oil, and the cured meats in the gift boxes? It made sense now.
Axel leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk as he reflected. She's taken products from our family's legacy and made them the centerpiece—turning them into a story that sells. Not just a holiday gesture, but a carefully calculated move, a foothold into new markets.
"Smart," Axel murmured. "Fucking smart."
His gaze shifted to his father, Don Alonzo, seated opposite him. His sharp eyes had not missed the quiet trail leading back to Danielle. She planted the seed for the wine line's success before any of us even noticed.
"Father," Axel began, voice low, "the metrics she sent over for the new wine line are projecting over three billion in sales for the next launch."
Don Alonzo's eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of approval. "And the product was well-received?"
Axel nodded, already calculating the next move. "She knows how to turn a small idea into a global one. But there's more." His eyes hardened. "It's time we bring her closer. She's indispensable now—too valuable to stay in the shadows."
Don Alonzo pressed his lips into a thin line. "I agree. But keep her close. She's not one of us yet. She's played her part, but too much is at stake. We can't lose her—to anyone else."
Axel's fingers drummed on the table. Protect her. Watch her. Keep her in sight. The family, the Familia, needed her—though no one else might understand why.
He tapped his tablet, swiping through the latest reports. The wine was just one part of the bigger picture.
"The Middle East partners," Axel said, "they're asking for the cheese products to be halal certified. It's a shift, but it shows how Horizon's products are evolving beyond luxury into new markets. More than just wine."
Don Alonzo's brow twitched.
"Halal cheese?"
Axel didn't blink.
"Yes. And the lamb-cured meats too. It's not just about flavor profiles anymore—it's about trust. Danielle started the groundwork months ago."
He flipped to the next section of the dossier. She was ahead of us again, Don Alonzo said to himself. The documentation was already thick—contracts, inspection schedules, correspondence. It wasn't a proposal; it was a nearly completed process.
"She had her team audit every step—sourcing, slaughter, handling. The lambs come from a small-scale farm in Navarra that already complies with most halal standards. Now, she's working with a certification body based in Andalusia to get full recognition, even for the curing stage."
Another page turned, the weight of it heavy with intention.
"For the cheese, same diligence. No animal rennet. She shifted the supply chain quietly—partnered with a dairy cooperative in Catalonia that's already deep in transition. A halal compliance officer oversees the feed, the enzymes, even the packaging."
Don Alonzo's eyes remained steady.
"And no press?"
Axel shook his head.
"Not a word. Not until the papers are signed. This isn't marketing—this is diplomacy. Quiet, deliberate."
There was a long pause. The kind that filled rooms with more meaning than sound.
"Danielle's mapped out new territory," Axel added. "This opens the Gulf, North Africa, pockets of Southeast Asia. And the right families... they're watching. They see this as more than market expansion."
Don Alonzo gave him a measured look.
"A mask, you mean?"
Axel nodded, lowering his voice.
"Exactly. Buying into Horizon isn't just about luxury. It's becoming a quiet network of trust and protection. And Danielle's built that without needing a single spotlight."
And she did it without asking for permission, Axel thought. Only progress.
That's the subtle power Danielle's building. Not loud or obvious—but strong.
Don Alonzo's voice was gruff but steady. "Ambition isn't enough. She has strategy. Patience. Trust her... for now. But be careful." His eyes locked with Axel's. "You know what's at stake."
Axel nodded. Too many betrayals. Too many feuds. The world outside is unstable.
"I've been thinking," Axel said, voice low, "I'll make sure she's comfortable. Maybe put her somewhere safe... a new house."
Don Alonzo raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Axel's gaze shifted to an image on his tablet—Danielle's home office in Antipolo. Quiet. Dedicated. Focused. Yet always distant.
"I'm sending her a new house," Axel said, firm. "A sanctuary, but one with eyes on her. Every move, every decision, for the Familia."
He clenched his jaw. A gift... and a cage.
Outside, the wind whispered through the estate's vineyards. The scent of olive groves and earth hung heavy. The legacy of the Real de Lara family pressed down on him.
Axel leaned back, fingers tapping a slow rhythm.
"The Familia needs strength. Stability. And Danielle might be the key."
But beneath it all, he knew—
Trust is earned, not given.
Danielle had a long road ahead. But if she stayed on this path, she could become more than a quiet player.
She could become the heart of the Familia.
And Axel would make sure of it.
For better or for worse.
-
Axel spread the blueprint printouts across the large oak table in his study, the quiet night wrapping the estate in stillness.
The sprawling twenty hectares of rolling hills stretched out in detailed lines and shaded contours.
Three main buildings, he reminded himself, eyes tracing each one carefully.
The centerpiece was the house for Danielle and Leo—an industrial-modern design softened by warm wood accents and floor-to-ceiling windows that would frame the surrounding greenery like living paintings. Open spaces inside for light and life, sturdy enough to withstand the seasons, yet welcoming like a true home.
Then, set apart from the main cluster by nearly a mile of verdant fields and trees, the smaller cottage for Danielle's parents stood on its own. A quiet retreat offering privacy and peace, close enough for family support, but distant enough to respect boundaries.
Lastly, the barn sat near the main house—not just a place for animals, but a versatile space for storage, work, and growth.
No showy gadgets, no high-tech extravagance, Axel thought, folding his hands. Just thoughtful design, to give them space to breathe... and to watch.
He pictured Leo running freely through the fields, Danielle smiling from the porch as the sun dipped behind the hills.
Axel flipped the page of the blueprint, his eyes narrowing as the details revealed themselves. Beneath the warm, inviting layout of the three buildings was something far more deliberate.
An intricate underground network snaked through the land, connecting the main house, the distant cottage, and the barn. Thick lines marked tunnels—not just simple passageways, but fortified corridors designed for discretion and security.
His fingers traced the plan to a small, reinforced chamber labeled simply: Safe Room — nestled beneath the main house, equipped for emergencies, sealed from prying eyes and outside threats.
This isn't just about comfort or space, Axel thought, heart steady. It's a fortress. A sanctuary.
The tunnels offered secret routes for movement, ensuring Danielle and those she cared for could move unseen if danger ever came.
He sat back, lips tight, imagining the peace of mind the safe room would bring—hidden beneath the warmth of the farm, a quiet assurance against a world that rarely offered safety.
This wasn't just a home. It was the perfect cage—soft, safe, and just out of reach when needed.