It was an ordinary November evening in Barcelona, and Gael Monteverde was dining alone. The quiet murmur of the Can Culleretes restaurant surrounded him — soft voices, clinking glasses, and the faint aroma of roasted garlic and fine wine. He had been here many times before on business, but that night was different. It marked twenty-six years since he founded his vineyard empire, and twenty-three years since he lost the woman he loved more than anything — Amélia.
To the world, Gael was a man who had everything. His wines graced the tables of Europe’s most exclusive restaurants. His name was synonymous with elegance and success. But behind that polished image lived a man who carried an emptiness that no wealth could fill.
