A heavy silence hung over the conference room in the heart of Napa Valley’s Stags Leap District.
Outside the windows, vineyards nearing the end of harvest spread out in peaceful rows, but the air inside was stretched taut, as if it might explode at any moment.
At the center of the table sat a bottle of wine bearing an image of a valley showered in stars. Astra Vale. It was Redwood Winery’s controversial new release, unveiled in lavish fashion before VIPs from every corner of society.
Brad Duncan, vice president of Michelle Wine, flipped through a stack of documents with a hardened expression. A typical elite white man in his mid-forties, he had harbored one suspicion ever since acquiring Stags Leap: that after Warren left, he might leak Stags Leap’s secrets to the outside.
“It hasn’t even been half a year since Warren Winiarski went to Redwood. And they’ve produced something like this? That speed is physically impossible.”
Brad spat the words in a cold voice. Seated across from him was Alessandro Bellini, president of the famed Italian wine house Antinori. Dressed in a refined Italian suit, he was carefully turning a glass in his hand.
“It certainly is suspicious, but... for Warren, knowing full well what’s in the contract, to openly use a blending recipe that is Stags Leap’s asset? That doesn’t sit right. He’s not a fool.”
“But there’s no other explanation. Isn’t he the old man who protected Stags Leap’s identity for more than thirty years? If a newly established winery like Redwood has produced a cult-level wine, it can only mean they robbed our vault.”
Brad’s gaze shifted to the man seated at the end of the table. It was Robert Vance, Michelle Wine’s in-house legal counsel and an attorney specializing in intellectual property.
“Robert, are the composition analysis report and legal response documents ready?”
“They’re ready, Vice President. If the analysis shows that the key chemical indicators and blending ratios match by more than seventy percent, we can immediately file for an injunction over the leak of trade secrets and freeze Redwood’s logistics. Seventy percent is the decisive figure courts recognize as deliberate imitation.”
President Alessandro raised a hand lightly to stop him.
“Before we wield the legal blade, we should confirm the essence first. My tongue will know before anyone whether Warren’s touch is in this or not.”
Enzo, Alessandro’s chief winemaker, carefully pulled the cork. Pop! With a dull sound, the wine flowed into the decanter. As the dark ruby liquid slid smoothly down the glass wall, the conference room door quietly opened, and a researcher handed Vice President Brad Duncan a thick document envelope before disappearing.
It was the freshly printed “Astra Vale Precision Composition Analysis Report” from the lab. But Brad did not open it. He wanted to test his own senses before the data.
Everyone in the conference room held their breath. Enzo politely handed glasses to Alessandro and Brad.
Brad Duncan swirled his glass roughly and smelled the aroma. He knew Warren Winiarski’s style better than anyone. Restrained acidity, elegant structure, and a long finish. Expecting that classic fragrance that had created Stags Leap’s glory, he took a sip of the wine.
But in that instant, Brad’s eyes trembled violently.
“What... is this?”
Flustered, he could not even swallow the wine as he focused on the sensation at the tip of his tongue. President Alessandro beside him also furrowed his brow. Sensing that something was wrong, Enzo poured wine into a separate glass, smelled it, and took it into his mouth. His brow immediately tightened, but he did not dare speak first.
In the end, Alessandro muttered in a hollow voice.
“Brad, this... isn’t Warren’s method.”
“That can’t be... Of course Stags Leap’s ratios should be mixed in...”
“You felt it too, didn’t you? That it’s different.”
Alessandro muttered in a hollow voice. Only then did Brad sense that something had gone wrong and snatched up the document envelope he had thrown on the table, tearing it open.
“Robert! Check the numbers! How much does it overlap with the Stags Leap recipe?”
Attorney Robert Vance hurriedly flipped past the first page of the analysis report, then his face turned pale as he pointed to one spot with his finger.
“Vice President, these indicators... the key chemical indicators don’t even match ours by forty percent. The polymerization level of the tannins is more than twice that of our flagship wine, and the pH concentration was designed differently from the planning stage itself.”
Brad snatched the analysis report away as if he could not believe it. The unidentified modern perfection he had sensed during the tasting was now spread out before his eyes in numbers. Enzo scanned the phenolic compound graph at the bottom of the report over Brad’s shoulder and murmured softly.
“This is a choice Mr. Warren would never have made. Look here. With Columbia Valley Petit Verdot blended in, the very framework of the tannins is tracing an entirely different trajectory from Stags Leap’s. With Mr. Warren’s stubbornness and traditionalism, he never would have accepted such a radical departure...”
Enzo continued, unable to take his eyes off the analysis report.
“This wasn’t made by looking at a leaked recipe. It’s a fortress built from the start according to entirely different physical laws. Legally, we don’t have even one percent of a basis to claim it’s a copy, let alone seventy.”
Brad Duncan’s hand shook as he held the analysis report, his expression blank. If the shock he had felt on his tongue had been a written impression, then the analysis report just delivered was like a student checking his grades after receiving a failing score.
The air in the conference room cooled in an instant. Unable to contain his boiling anger, Brad slammed the desk.
“Then what is Warren doing over there? Are you saying he’s just sitting there like a folding screen?”
“No, Vice President.”
Enzo swirled the wine remaining in his glass once more and answered quietly.
“If we recall the interview Mr. Warren gave to a magazine when he joined Redwood... perhaps he is learning.”
“Learning? From whom, that legendary old man?”
“From Redwood’s Brian Choi. At the time, Mr. Warren said, ‘I joined Redwood because I was captivated by Brian Choi’s vision and new perspective, and I recovered the passion I thought I had lost.’ Looking at this wine, I think it tells us what that vision and new perspective he spoke of were. Perhaps Mr. Warren layered this young genius’s precise technical skill on top of his own seasoned senses. And the result may be this Astra Vale.”
President Alessandro sank deep into his chair. He felt as though the philosophy the Antinori family had upheld for hundreds of years—that wine was a gift from God—was crumbling.
“Brad, give up on legal action. If we take this wine to court, we’ll only end up promoting Redwood’s genius for them.”
“Then are you saying we should just sit here and take it? The heavy hitters in New York and London are already moving. Rumor is spreading that Viktor Karlov, who attended yesterday’s tasting, paid for a hundred cases on the spot. Our flagship wine’s position is being shaken!”
Brad Duncan’s voice was filled with crisis. Four hundred fifty dollars per bottle. The fortress Warren had painstakingly built for decades to raise Stags Leap’s brand value, Redwood was trying to leap over with a single release.
No, if one looked at the details, they had practically already leapt over it. That was why President Alessandro, despite being certain Warren had done nothing wrong, still had a rigid expression.
“......”
“The release price of CASK 23, Stags Leap’s top-tier wine, is three hundred dollars, but Redwood’s Astra Vale has a release price of four hundred fifty dollars. At this rate, before long, something on the level of the thousand-dollar Screaming Eagle or Harlan Estate may appear.”
Both Screaming Eagle and Harlan Estate were located in Oakville’s To Kalon area and were considered among Napa Valley’s finest wineries. Stan Kroenke, who owned Screaming Eagle, was also famous as the owner of the English Premier League’s Arsenal FC. In truth, he was also a major figure in the wine industry, a tycoon who owned final-boss-level wineries in various regions.
“So what do you propose we do?”
“We need to pressure the distribution network.”
Brad’s eyes flashed as he continued.
“We contact the major wine distributors and block them by threatening to cut off allocations of our Stags Leap limited editions to any distributor that takes Redwood’s volume. And it would also be one method to find out where they’re sourcing Columbia Valley Petit Verdot and buy up the contract rights to that vineyard ourselves.”
President Alessandro looked out at the peaceful vineyards and gave a bitter smile. It felt as though he was seeing the limits of Michelle Wine, which had dominated the American market with wines costing less than thirty dollars.
“Brad, you still don’t understand. If this fellow can make wine of this caliber, blocking one or two suppliers won’t stop him. Let’s leave it at that.”
He tossed the last of the Astra Vale remaining in his glass into his mouth. The taut tension and silken texture filling his mouth... it felt like the omen of a tremendous storm to come.
“Prepare for the San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition. It’s going to be a battlefield.”
As President Alessandro rose irritably and left, Vice President Brad Duncan, who had led the acquisition of Stags Leap, bit his lip.
---
At the same time, Redwood Winery.
Busy with the release of Serasia, I was taking a call from Christopher. His voice on the other end of the receiver was brimming with delight.
“Brian! It’s already chaos. Hedonism Wines in London is making a fuss about paying in advance for five hundred cases. We’ve also been contacted by the people at Macy’s in Hong Kong. It’s almost a shame that, because of our limited allocation policy, we can only give them ten cases each. They say the rumor has already spread widely among wine lovers with some money!”
I turned my head and looked at Warren, who had just walked out of the aging room. Seeing him smile while sipping a freshly drawn brandy sample, someone might mistake him for a drunkard.
“Still, they say ten cases is a lot...”
“Of course. Giving one place one hundred twenty bottles of wine like this is practically special treatment. You don’t need to worry, Brian.”
“Yes. I trust Christopher to handle it well. Then I’ll leave this San Francisco Chronicle to you as well.”
“Of course. Hahaha!”
After hearing his hearty laughter and hanging up, Warren sauntered into the office.
“Hey, Master. I looked into it, and it seems pretty noisy outside. The new owners of Stags Leap must be all fired up, thinking I leaked something. I hear they’re talking about legal action and whatnot.”
“There shouldn’t be anything for them to point out, though.”
“Hmph, exactly. How would those stiff-headed people understand that it’s merely your blending method with my advice added to it? They’re probably suspecting their tongues are broken by now.”
He took a sip of the brandy in his glass and narrowed his eyes.
“But why isn’t the fellow who’s supposed to inherit this coming?”
“Haha, he’ll be here soon.”
Speak of the devil. Far off beyond the farm, a gray pickup truck was approaching.
“Here he comes. The one who’ll inherit your secret weapon, sir.”