Katerina, the daughter of Viktor Karloff, stared at me for a long while with an unreadable look in her eyes. Since she was looking so intently, I was wondering if I had said something wrong when she asked,
“Doesn’t it make you angry that my father used you as a chess piece?”
I shrugged.
“People sometimes want to show things off, even if those things aren’t exactly objects. My dad and mom are probably proud of me, their son. I’m proud of my parents. My girlfriend Chloe is the same. She’s incredibly diligent and pretty.”
“Hah...!”
At her dumbfounded expression, I continued with a faint smile.
“If he was ignored by Stan Kroenke, as you said, how upset must he have been? But then something like this happened, so isn’t it only human to want to brag? From my perspective, if I think of it as sympathizing with that feeling a little and providing service to a big client, it doesn’t bother me at all.”
“......”
“Even someone as slow on the uptake as me can tell that you and your father don’t get along, but don’t try to ruin his mood because of that. It’s a good day.”
Katerina narrowed her eyes as if she found that unexpected. She toyed with the glass in her hand and sank into thought for a moment. The sound of New York’s cold wind striking the glass wall of the terrace told me that we were very high up.
Before long, she took a sip of wine and opened her mouth.
“At the time, my father hired a famous star winemaker. A man named Michel Durand, who commanded a rather high price in Bordeaux. My father handed him a blank check and gave him just one order: ‘Make the most dazzling and overwhelming wine.’”
I nodded. It was a typical oligarch’s method. But wine was not something whose quality necessarily rose in direct proportion just because you poured money into it.
“Back then, a winery’s fate was decided by a single Robert Parker score. Durand tried to use the unlimited capital my father gave him to stake everything on earning Parker’s score. To make the kind of wine Parker liked—rich, heavy, exploding with oak—he completely distorted the terroir.”
The mid-2000s were an era when the influence of the legendary critic Robert Parker was absolute. So as the 2000s began, winemakers with some name recognition were obsessed with raising their own value by making not the essence of the land, but “the taste Parker liked, the taste that got high scores.”
“He saw Belle Époque’s cold, damp clay soil on Bordeaux’s Right Bank only as an obstacle to overcome. Before the grapes were even fully ripe, he ran forced concentration equipment to extract color, and poured in sugar and acidity regulators to hide the low acidity. His arrogance, believing that science could conquer nature, eventually brought disaster. The wine became a monstrosity with nothing left but an unpleasant metallic taste and a muddy oak aroma, and Parker threw down a bombshell score in the low eighties, calling it ‘bizarre juice that reeks only of money.’ With that one blow, Belle Époque became the laughingstock of society.”
I listened quietly, then realized something strange.
“I understand that this winemaker named Michel Durand made a huge mistake... but you seem to have quite a good understanding of winemaking. What you just explained is hard to explain at the level of an ordinary wine enthusiast.”
For a moment, she looked slightly flustered, then said,
“I was very interested in wine.”
“That’s all?”
“... Do I need more of a reason?”
Seeing her quietly avert her gaze, I didn’t ask any further and fell into thought.
‘Bordeaux Right Bank, outskirts of Saint-Émilion... low-lying cold clay soil.’
A passage from a Bordeaux geology paper I had read in my previous life, when I was holed up in the research lab, came to mind. Until the early 2000s, that place had been treated as abandoned land where red grapes would not ripen because it was too cold and damp. But after the mid-2010s, when global warming began in earnest, that cold clay soil became the last bastion in Bordeaux capable of preserving acidity.
Perhaps that land held the potential to become not a site for red wine, but a sacred ground for top-class Bordeaux-style white wine. Because if Sauvignon Blanc and Sémillon grew in that cold clay, they could preserve sharp and elegant aromas even in a future where temperatures soared.
Of course, I did not tell Katerina this.
“That’s truly unfortunate. Both the land and Mr. Viktor’s pride must have been badly hurt.”
As if she had lost interest in my reaction, Katerina shrugged and headed back into the banquet hall.
“So stop caring. That place is no longer a winery. It’s just a giant tomb that eats up maintenance costs.”
Left alone on the terrace after she disappeared, I looked down at New York’s nightscape, then felt that my legs were still trembling and quickly stepped back.
“Skyscrapers don’t agree with me.”
Shaking my head, I reentered the banquet hall, which was still buzzing with heat. Stan Kroenke seemed to have already left, and Viktor was laughing uproariously with Marcus Wainwright, thoroughly drunk.
“Oh, our Brian! Where have you been? Everyone’s been in an uproar looking for you!”
When Viktor spotted me, he staggered over and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. A thick scent of Astra Veil wafted from his breath.
The aroma the wine gave off on its own was enough to bewitch a person, but once the scent of Astra Veil came back up after passing through the stomach, it was full of harsh alcohol, making my face crease on its own.
“I stepped out for some air. Congratulations, Mr. Viktor. Tonight is truly your victory.”
At my praise, Viktor beamed like a child and patted my back.
“It’s all thanks to you! Did you see that arrogant Stan shut his mouth? I’ve never felt so refreshed in my entire life. Hahaha!”
I gave a bitter smile and shrugged.
“Whatever the case, I’m glad I was of help. I’m just grateful that everyone has rated Astra Veil so highly.”
“You’re quite modest. Is that a trait of Asians?”
“I suppose so? But just because I’m modest doesn’t mean I have doubts about my own ability.”
“I know, I would never think that. And likely no one in Napa Valley will think that either. Haven’t you already taken on Warren Winiarski, a legendary figure of Napa Valley, as your employee? That alone is enough to shut the mouths of fools who only know how to throw money around without any eye for value.”
He kept subtly displaying pride in his own discernment. It seemed the fact that he had recognized the value of Astra Veil at once did a great deal to bolster his pride.
Conversely, I could also understand just how much of a blow the fall of Château Belle Époque had been to Viktor.
“Actually... earlier, I took the liberty of hearing a few things from Ms. Katerina. About ‘Château Belle Époque’ in Bordeaux, France.”
Viktor’s face instantly stiffened. The elation from moments ago vanished, and displeasure and shame took its place.
“Katerina said something unnecessary. Forget that land. It is the only blemish in my life.”
“A blemish? On the contrary, I found myself interested. From Ms. Katerina’s explanation, the geological structure of that land seems quite unique. It sounded like the perfect place to experiment with a certain farming method I’ve been researching.”
In that instant, Viktor looked at me in puzzlement.
“Experiment? On that dead land?”
“Yes. Napa Valley has an environment blessed by nature for cultivating Cabernet Sauvignon. That’s why I was able to produce a good wine like Astra Veil. But I’m a winemaker, and I want to continue new research. It just so happens that I needed that kind of cold, damp soil. As you know, Napa Valley is too warm, so there are limits to what I can test there.”
“So... was it because you have such passion for wine that you were able to create Astra Veil at your age?”
Perhaps moved by my passion for research, he looked somewhat impressed.
“To you, Mr. Viktor, it may be a headache, but to a researcher like me, there is no sample as precious as that. Would you perhaps... consider selling that land to me?”
“Sell it? If you want, I could lease it to you...”
“I don’t want a lease. I may be a researcher, but I’m also a businessman. If the research results turn out well, wouldn’t that only benefit you, Mr. Viktor?”
Was it because I was too blunt? Viktor flinched for a moment, then burst into laughter.
“Hahahaha! That’s true. Did I reveal too much of my hand?”
“It’s all right. I revealed mine as well.”
“That is true.”
Nodding, he stared at me, then gave a faint smile.
“You see, I like people whose outside matches their inside. I detest humans who say pleasant things to your face and do something else behind your back. If you had stood in front of me and mentioned only research, while subtly trying to steer me toward a sale instead of a lease, I would have been disappointed. It would have looked as though you were looking down on me.”
“That could be. I don’t like those kinds of people either. A deal may happen or it may not.”
I played it cool. My attitude was, if you don’t like it, I simply won’t buy it.
“......”
For a moment, he fell silent. But I could clearly see that the gears in his head were spinning rapidly.
Originally, to him, it must have been worthless land that burned through several million dollars in maintenance costs every year. But now a genius winemaker who had conquered Napa was offering to take that burden off his hands, so he was debating whether to sell it or not.
“Are you having trouble deciding?”
When I asked with a smile, he said with an intense gaze,
“In all the years I have lived, I have never once made a deal at a loss. You are likely intending to buy Château Belle Époque at a very low price, aren’t you?”
“That’s right. Its current state is what makes it appealing to me.”
In other words, I found it appealing because it was cheap, and I wanted to negotiate.
“But as I said, I have no history of making deals at a loss. You may think I took a huge loss simply by buying that winery, but in truth, that loss has not yet been finalized. The loss is finalized only when I sell that winery at a greatly reduced price.”
I wondered why he was explaining such a simple structure of logic. I had a feeling he wasn’t just running his mouth, as they say, to get a slightly higher price.
“And?”
“In that sense, I cannot sell you that winery. It would mean betraying my convictions.”
“That’s understandable. But I am curious. I’ve heard that skilled investors sometimes have to cut their losses quickly.”
It was a roundabout way of saying that if he kept holding on to it, wouldn’t that make him a foolish investor? Naturally, Viktor Karloff understood that, and still smiling, he replied,
“That is when the investor is not as wealthy as I am. In the end, with time, there comes a day when my investments shine.”
“I see. I respect that.”
At that, I held both hands out in front of me. It was a gesture that said, “Then do keep owning that winery.” In cruder terms, it could be expressed as, “Hold on to it until you die, then...”
When I came out like that, Viktor gave a bitter smile and said,
“But there are always exceptions in this world.”
“... Exceptions?”
“I do not know, but if you were to look for a way... I might be able to think it over further, is what I’m saying.”
In other words, his pride would not allow the words “I’ll sell it” to come out of his own mouth, so he was telling me to work harder and make an offer that could become a deal.
I had no reason to refuse. In front of a tycoon who could even move Stan Kroenke, what was the point of standing on pride?
“What value do you place on the winery?”
“Eighty million euros.”
“Surely you don’t expect to receive all of that?”
“Do not try to lead my answer. State your opinion.”
“I’ll offer twenty million euros.”
As if he genuinely had not expected it, his eyes nearly popped out of his head in shock.
“Wh-what? Twenty million euros?”
“Yes. In effect, its brand value is close to zero. The inventory costs are likely a negative, and it must be losing at least several million euros every year in maintenance. In the end, the only things with meaning are the land and the winemaking facilities.”
“... And you value that at a mere twenty million euros? Knowing that it is a large estate of sixty hectares, about one hundred fifty acres? Even if you combined every vineyard you own, it would not reach that size.”
“In exchange, I’m taking on this troublesome debt and all management responsibilities, am I not?”
Viktor’s face twisted severely. But more than the anger visible on the surface, I could read conflict in his eyes.
Sure enough, he looked down at me and threw out,
“In return, I will take fifty percent of the shares.”
From the fact that he did not refuse, I was certain. I knew what he wanted.
“I cannot go above twenty percent. However, if you accept that, I’ll offer fifteen million euros. Five million euros in the first year, with the remaining balance to be settled from the winery’s profits.”
“Hah... Do you think that makes sense? You want to take shares and pay less money?”
I leaned my upper body toward him and spoke with great care.
“Please think about it carefully. People who don’t know the details will think Château Belle Époque is being reborn as a joint venture between you and me, Mr. Viktor. And publicly, you’ll be able to show that buying Château Belle Époque was by no means a failed choice.”
I was telling him to give up on the share ratio while handing him a title instead. Honor over money. Ordinary people would, of course, choose money, but...
With wavering eyes, Viktor could not easily voice a refusal.