Living with the Billionaire Monster

POV Daemon Barone Standing on the balcony, I watched the last rays of the sunset at the end of the hills. I looked at the meters and meters of hectares that were in front of me, showing me the power that belonged to me. The best vineyard plantation we have had since the 19th century, which was established by Marcello Barone, the first to turn a small vineyard into a massive and blessed vineyard. Every man in my family has followed the legacy of making Castello Barone, the best wine in Italy and the world. I am not oblivious to fulfilling the order given by the great Marcello, I have even done it much better than my father and his father before his father, but, even so, I acquired the curse of the Barone men. For as long as I can remember, my ancestors were classified as “Monsters”. When I was a child, it scared me because I didn't understand what they meant. "Monsters do not exist," I thought many times, because in the mind of a child, who did not understand the conversations of adults, I believed that they were referring to real monsters; men with fangs, claws and red eyes. I laughed only at the ironies of life. When I began to be taught how to run the family business, and what I was to do when I was given the inheritance and awarded the crown, I understood what kind of monsters they were referring to in those stories, and I laughed at myself as I remembered my cowardice. Every Barone man was a monster, yes, but in business, always placing himself as number one in all of Italy, Europe and the entire world, with the manufacture of the best wine that ever existed, Castello Barone. That day I understood it. Located on a high hill, with the Alps in the north and the Apennines in the south, a perfect climate and the blessing of the gods through a recipe inherited from generation to generation, the wine produced here, in my castle, within the wineries, makes it the best wine in the world, one of high quality desired by humans. I sighed, I watched as the sun finished setting and I decided to go down to see the land, and the harvest, to see how everyone in the vineyard was doing, and also to get a report on the numbers. I don't go out during the day, I haven't done so for five years. I do not expose myself to the sun's rays, to people, or to contact with my employees. It is not due to an illness, it is due to a curse, because of all the Barone heirs, I was the only one who was “blessed” twice as much. I am the wine monster, but I am also the real monster. That's why I don't let anyone except my family, my foreman with a wife and two children, see me. And last but not least, my lawyer and right-hand man, Alessandro Ferretti; also my best friend and the only i***t who puts up with me. I left my desolate and cold room putting on my gloves. I hated my hands because when they don't see my face they are terrified or intimidated, especially when they see my hands or my neck. That's why I cover myself completely, even though they all already know what I look like, I don't like them to see me the way they do. Cashmere sweater, turtleneck, leather jacket, black pants with my boots and of course, my gloves. I cover myself as much as I can, and if I could wear a mask, I would even wear one, but that would be too strange, that's why I prefer to be hidden and go out only at night, under the moonlight, being covered by the shadows and thus not calling attention. Even if it's a little… "Mr. Daemon, how nice to see you," Greta, my foreman's wife, greets me. “Will you be eating in the dining room this time or your bedroom?” "In my bedroom, Greta," I answered the same thing every night, and this time it wasn't going to be any different. “And Luca?” “He's in the winery waiting for you with Lorenzo and Manolo.” I nodded and moved towards the exit. "Mr. Daemon," I stopped when I heard her call me and turned to look at her. Will you have dinner at this time? I realized that I didn't answer her and I clicked my tongue. Sometimes her insistence exasperates me. “On the way back from the winery,” I told her. Greta continued her way to the kitchen. I finally left the castle, I walked across the stony ground, while the fresh cold breeze covered me. There is a somewhat long distance from the castle to the winery, but I like to walk all the way because every night, I think of the former glory I once had. I still have it, but I couldn't enjoy it the way I wanted. What does a King do without being able to walk around the world enjoying its riches? I cannot leave this castle, I am bound to it for life, until I die and turn into dust. Although I won't deny that sometimes, just sometimes, I tend to sneak around. In the past, this great vineyard received hundreds of wine-loving people, who came from many towns in Italy, even from neighboring countries and even from other continents, just to walk among the vines, learn how the wine was made, and also learn about the history of the family and the success achieved. There were tour guides who took them on a walk around the great castle, to see each common room, each winery, even to taste the oldest and most secret production; even sitting under wild trees, trying a good charcuterie board, while having a glass of wine. But that is only history now. I closed the doors of the castle, I prohibited people from entering and little by little, everything became an enigma, a mystery, making the myth that surrounds our family grow even more. If only they knew. I looked at the hills, the vines stretching across the land and I thought about when I walked through them under the sun. I remembered when I went out to see how everyone worked, how the grapes were plucked and selected, and I enjoyed the passion with which they did it because I had that same passion too. I still have it. I would put on a hat, and I would even take a day to choose the grapes that I considered special to produce my wine, one that only my family and I drank at gatherings. It was a different recipe, but I still liked it. They asked me to mass produce for sale, but I always refused. That was my creation and I still treasure it in bottles in my cellar and the recipe is in my head, so no one will ever be able to match it. When something is unique among so many alike, I think it is better to keep it with suspicion. That gives it more value. I stopped before entering the cellar, looking at the path that led towards the exit of this castle. "What will the world be like out there?" I don't remember the last time I visited the town to walk through its streets as such, or that I went to a restaurant, or that I left Italy itself as I did before. And I don't think I'll ever do them again." I no longer saw new faces, except those who were already by me and for me. What a difference, before this castle, this great vineyard. It was full of people who wanted to meet me and see the great blessed inheritance granted by the gods. Not even those who claimed to be friends came to at least pretend. But that's fine with me, that day I learned that not everyone who smiled at me is a friend, and not everyone who patted me on the back wished me good fortune. That's why I closed the bars, that's why I prohibited anyone from coming close to me, because I preferred to be alone, locked up here than to live with people who were “snakes” who only wanted to bite. I let out a hint of a smile, as I remembered how I kicked them all out when they brought me home. They smiled at me, they hugged me, they even looked at me flirtatiously, but as soon as I went to bed and locked myself in my room, I went out to the balcony to smoke to relax and I heard them all making fun of me. “Daemon, the monster of Castle Barone. Whoever loves him, will only do it for the money." I smiled because they were talking about themselves without realizing it. After all, minutes ago, they were fawning over me and saying how much they loved me. Hypocrites. My voice did not tremble as I spoke to them from my balcony, hidden in the darkness, and drove them out of my castle. The only one who came back to give me an explanation was a lady. I accepted her, f****d her and then sent her away like she was nothing but a w***e. Nothing had ever given me so much satisfaction, because after having my way with her I showed her what a monster I could be. I entered the winery, and immediately, Luca and his children got up to greet me. The respect on the part of the two brothers is impeccable. Lorenzo, thirty years old, and Manolo, twenty-five, both followed in their father's footsteps to one day become the foreman of this great vineyard. Luca Morreti had served my father for many years, and then he came to serve me, but soon his eldest son would take his place when it was his turn to retire. And before Luca, it was his father, and so, for several years, the Morretis have served the Barones. “Daemon,” my second most trusted man in this fortress called me, extending his hand to me. “How are you?” “Later we can talk about me. Let's talk about how things went today.” He always asked me the same question, and I always gave him the same answer. He smiled at me and nodded, inviting me to take a seat and so I did. “The winemaker came today and said that this year's harvest is promising,” said Lorenzo. “The pruners did an excellent job, keeping the harvest in perfect condition,” Mr. Daemon adds. Manolo. I lit a cigarette, and I gestured to Lorenzo when I saw him trying to serve me a drink. I took a big drag and heard Luca's two sons give me the day's report. Their father looked at them with pride, with his chest inflated, feeling complete when he saw in his children what he taught them for years. I heard them talk to me about the grape selectors, telling me that few grapes were discarded. That filled me with satisfaction, because in this vineyard, more than one vine is never discarded, and it is never full either. We are one step away from perfection and that is what has kept us where we are. Listening carefully to old Luca, we walked through the entire winery, checking the stainless steel barrels that contain thousands of l****s of wine, which have been stored there after having been crushed and pressed. They do it during the day, I like to do it again at night because I am picky and a perfectionist. Although I am the walking imperfection We checked the fermentation temperature, which is essential for the production of a good wine. Here temperature control is essential, a minimal error, and an entire harvest, months of work and time invested by each of the people who worked hard to bring a bottle of Castello Barone to the market is lost. We walked back after having made sure that each steel barrel was perfect. Red wine must ferment at a temperature between 30º and 35º. The fermentation time in this type of wine is ten days, but its production requires one more step: during fermentation, the tank must be drained to aerate the wine. Oxygen helps the yeast work faster in fermentation, so it's a long process. After obtaining the wine we want, we go to the bottling process, which is a fully automated process within this immense winery, and after that, we flood the market with our wine. Before, when it was finally time to send the production, a grape harvest was organized where the best families from Italy and beyond came to the castle to be the first to taste the wine. Some were professionals who made a living from this and left their reviews, others were simply lovers of good wine and its quality. A great party was organized and that day was a day of joy throughout the vineyard. Those were the old days. “Mr. Daemon, sorry for interrupting you, but your parents have come to the castle and are waiting for you in the family room,” Greta's voice suddenly met my ears. "May the gods give me patience,” I muttered. “Do they look like they'll be staying for a long time?” “I don't know, sir.” “Have you told them I'm busy?” “Yes sir.” “And yet they sat down?” "Yes, sir," she answered somewhat awkwardly. “I told them that you were busy, but…” “Don't worry, Greta. We all here know how persistent they are.” She smiled with relief, but I was completely tense. I don't like my parents coming, I don't like seeing them, much less receiving them, because I know perfectly well what they're coming for. Two damn months on the same topic, since I turned thirty-five, they have done nothing but talk to me about it. Or bother me rather. Don't they get tired of screwing me with the same thing? They may as well drive my sister crazy with their troubles, but no, they insist on the same thing over and over again. “It better be important,” I told them as I entered the room where they were waiting patiently for me. “Greetings first, Daemon,” my mother said reproachfully. “I'm not your employee, I'm your mother.” "Here we go again." "Good evening, son," my father greeted, standing up. “We're sorry to bother you, but it's important.” I didn't greet them, I always avoided physical contact with my parents and took a seat in front, staring at them openly. “What is more important than supervising the wine?” I questioned, ignoring my mother's look of pain for not greeting her as she wanted. “I don't think there's anything,” I answered before they could. “There is; Daemon. You know perfectly well what we have come for.” “f**k! I'm not going to talk about that, Dad.” “You have to find a wife, Daemon, you have to…” “Who is going to want to marry me?” I questioned, interrupting his words. “Tell me who wishes to be the wife of a monster, Father!” He hesitated, swallowed thickly before coming up with an answer. "Daemon, my love, there must be some young woman out there who wants to be your wife..." I laughed bitterly, causing him to go silent. “Son, there are many young women from the best families who will surely want to unite with our families and…” "f**k it" I got up ready to stop listening to his stupid words. “Daemon, your mother is talking to you!” “Look at me!” I exploded, “I'm tired of this stupidity. Look at me, damn it! I'm a f*****g monster! I'm an atrocity! Look at me and tell me who the hell wants to marry Daemon Barone's monster! Tell me!” I roared with contempt. “Understand for the love of God that you have an atrocity for a son, that no damn woman is going to marry me for love, but if you tell me right now that there is one wanting to tie up her life locked up in this castle, tomorrow I will hold my peace,” I said through gritted teeth. “Give me a f*****g name!” There was silence everywhere, and then the sobs of a disconsolate woman could be heard without knowing what answer to give me. And I didn't need an answer, because I knew that no woman in her right mind would want to marry me even if it was by contract. “Daemon, you can explode, yell at us and treat us with the contempt with which you do. You can ignore us, avoid contact with us, even throw us out of the castle as many times as you feel like it, but that will not change the fact that we love you and will always love you, son. Nor will it change our minds. I will find you a wife, you will marry and give us an heir to continue the Barone legacy, it is an order!” “And what if I refuse?” I questioned, facing my fatter with my chin up. “What are you going to do with me if I don't feel like getting married, Dad?” “With the pain of my soul, I'll take everything you have from you and I will give it to your sister so that she can continue the family legacy. I've never been so serious, Daemon! If you do not want to give us an heir, your sister will eventually do it.” His words felt like daggers aimed at my chest. It didn't feel like betrayal, much less like revenge, it felt like a father who, for the first time, is admonishing his spoiled son, and I thought it felt worse. Francesco Barone is a man of his word, and right at that moment, I knew perfectly well that he had never been so serious. I released my held breath, stepped back and cursed under my breath, thinking in my head something quick to get out of this. I knew that I would not be able to escape my destiny if I wished to continue maintaining my inheritance, so, with the distress it caused me, I ended up giving them what they wanted. “I don't want a big wedding, I don't want a wedding.” “We accept.” “I don't want family visiting to meet her either.” “Daemon, you know your grandparents are going to want…” "I said no," I said firmly. “I'll give you what you want, but on my terms, will you take it or not?” “We will,” my mother was quick to reply. “I will find a young woman. Marry her, get my heir, and then divorce.” “Daemon! You know perfectly well that we do not allow divorce in this family,” my mother refuted indignantly. “You can't do that, son.” “You just want me to give you a grandson to continue the legacy when I die. Why do you care what happens to the girl? Decide, now, I will have it my way or we forget about it.” They both looked at each other for a few seconds, my mother sighed, tired of everything, shaking her head offended by my words, looking at me with pain, with pity for what I had become. “I don't know how you will do it, but I give you a week to introduce me to your wife, Daemon, if you don't do it, say goodbye to your reign.” Without further ado, he left the room, leaving me alone with my mother, who got close enough to see my face, close enough not to touch me. “You are beautiful, son, and the woman you choose for yourself will love you madly, because behind all these layers that you worked hard to build, there is a kind man, I know it.” She smiled at me and ended up leaving the room, leaving me alone with a strange feeling that settled in my chest. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and took out my cell phone to call my lawyer and best friend. On the second ring, he answered my call. “Call Serafina Fiore and make a date with her here at the castle.” “The youngest Fiore daughter we know?” he questioned doubtfully. “The art and literature expert?” I felt pensive upon hearing his notable irony. “Yeah. I want you to invite her to the castle for dinner tomorrow. Tell her that Daemon Barone himself will be patiently waiting for her.” "What will you do with her, Daemon?" “Simple. Make her my wife.”