Chapter 1

The air inside the private cellar was thick, heavy with the scent of aged oak, damp earth, and the metallic tang of fermentation that had seeped into the stone walls over decades. It was a smell that triggered something primal in the base of my skull, a memory of old books and dusty attics, but tonight, it was layered with the sharp, crisp aroma of Pinot Noir breathing in crystal goblets. I stepped through the heavy iron-bound door, the hinge sighing softly, and the temperature dropped a few degrees, wrapping around my shoulders like a warm, velvet blanket. The lighting was low, amber-hued, coming from vintage bulbs suspended on wrought-iron chains that swayed imperceptibly in the draft. I had arrived ten minutes early, as instructed, wearing the silk slip dress he’d picked out—champagne colored, clinging to my hips, the straps thin enough to feel like nothing at all against my skin. I had spent an hour checking my reflection, fixing the slight dishevelment in my hair, ensuring my lips were a perfect, glossy red. But as I walked deeper into the cavernous space, my heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage of bone. He was