The next morning, Amélie found herself standing in the grand foyer of the Beaumont estate, her nerves a tangled knot in her stomach. She had agreed to meet with Jack Reynolds, though she still wasn't sure if it was the right decision. Étienne's advice to hear the proposal before making any decisions echoed in her mind, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was about to walk into a lion's den.
Midtown Ventures had responded swiftly to her tentative request for a meeting, and now, just a day later, Jack Reynolds himself was on his way to Burgundy. Amélie was used to dealing with merchants, distributors, and buyers from around the world, but this was different. Jack Reynolds wasn't just another businessman—he was a titan in the industry, and his reputation preceded him. He was known for taking what he wanted, by any means necessary.
She glanced down at her reflection in the antique mirror hanging by the door. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun, her dress simple but elegant, perfectly appropriate for a business meeting. But no amount of careful grooming could ease the tension she felt.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel outside broke through her thoughts. Amélie took a deep breath and stepped toward the front door. Through the tall windows, she could see a sleek black car pulling up the long drive, stopping just outside the grand entrance. Her heart pounded in her chest as the driver stepped out to open the passenger door.
And then, there he was—Jack Reynolds.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, he exuded power and confidence as he stepped out of the car. His dark hair was neatly styled, his eyes sharp as they scanned the estate with a calculating look. Amélie watched him approach, her throat tightening. Everything about him screamed control, from the way he moved with purpose to the unreadable expression on his face.
This wasn't going to be a casual conversation.
Jack's gaze shifted to her as he reached the front steps, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a piercing intensity. He offered a polite, if distant, smile as he approached.
"Mademoiselle Beaumont," he greeted, his voice deep and smooth. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."
Amélie forced a smile, extending her hand. "Mr. Reynolds. Welcome to Beaumont Vineyards."
His grip was firm as they shook hands, and for a moment, Amélie felt like she was being sized up, as though he was already assessing her for weakness. She steeled herself, refusing to be intimidated by his presence.
"Please, come inside," she said, stepping back to allow him into the house.
They walked through the grand foyer, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the stone floors. Jack glanced around, taking in the historic beauty of the château, but his expression remained unreadable. Amélie led him into the drawing room, where a small table had been set up with coffee and a selection of their finest wines. The room, with its antique furniture and large windows overlooking the vineyard, was a testament to the vineyard's legacy.
Jack sat down across from her, his posture relaxed but commanding. Amélie poured two cups of coffee and offered one to him, trying to calm her nerves. She had dealt with tough negotiations before, but there was something about Jack Reynolds that felt different. He wasn't just here to make a deal—he was here to win.
"I'll be direct, Mademoiselle Beaumont," Jack said, leaning forward slightly. "Midtown Ventures is very interested in acquiring your vineyard. We've been watching Beaumont Vineyards for some time, and we believe it has enormous potential."
Amélie raised an eyebrow. "Potential? We're a small operation. I'm not sure we fit your usual profile."
Jack smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's exactly why we're interested. Beaumont Vineyards has history, tradition, and a strong brand. But it's underperforming. With the right investment, we could turn this into a global name. French wine with American efficiency behind it."
Amélie felt a flicker of annoyance at his words. Underperforming? She knew the vineyard wasn't in the best financial shape, but to hear him reduce centuries of tradition to a missed business opportunity stung.
"And what would that investment look like?" Amélie asked, keeping her tone neutral.
"Significant capital," Jack replied. "We would modernize the facilities, increase production, and expand your distribution channels. You'd reach markets you've never dreamed of, all while maintaining the Beaumont name."
Amélie frowned. "But it wouldn't be the same. Mass production might bring in money, but it would destroy the quality of the wine. Our methods may be old-fashioned, but that's what makes our wine special."
Jack's gaze hardened slightly, though his voice remained calm. "Special doesn't pay the bills, Mademoiselle Beaumont. You've built something incredible here, but if you don't adapt, you're going to lose it. Midtown Ventures isn't looking to take over and erase your legacy—we want to preserve it. But we also need to make it profitable."
Amélie's stomach churned. His words were logical, even reasonable, but they felt like a veiled threat. Profitability was not her sole goal; protecting her family's legacy was. But how could she balance that with the reality of their financial troubles?
"And what about my family?" she asked, her voice a little more pointed. "This vineyard isn't just a business—it's our home. It's my father's life's work."
Jack's expression softened, just a fraction. "I understand that. I've worked with many family-owned businesses, and I know how personal this is for you. That's why I'm here in person. I wanted to assure you that we're not looking to bulldoze through your history. We want to partner with you, to help you thrive."
Amélie looked down at her cup of coffee, her mind racing. Jack was persuasive, and he was making a strong case. But partnering with him would mean relinquishing control, something that terrified her. She wasn't sure if she could trust him, or if he truly understood what Beaumont Vineyards represented.
"Let me be clear," Jack added, his voice low and serious. "This isn't just a business deal for me. I don't lose. If I want something, I get it. But I'd prefer to work with you rather than against you."
The implication hung in the air. He was giving her a choice, but it was clear that if she refused, he wouldn't back down. He was going to get what he wanted, one way or another.
Amélie took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This was her family's vineyard, her life's work, and she wasn't going to be strong-armed into a decision. But at the same time, she couldn't ignore the reality of their financial situation. She needed to think carefully, to weigh her options.
"I'll consider your offer, Mr. Reynolds," she said finally, meeting his gaze. "But I need time. This isn't a decision I can make lightly."
Jack nodded, his expression unreadable once more. "Of course. Take your time, but don't take too long. The market waits for no one."
With that, he stood up, offering her a polite nod before heading toward the door. Amélie watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew this was just the beginning of a much larger battle, one that would test everything she believed in.
As the door closed behind him, Amélie sank back into her chair, overwhelmed by the weight of the decision before her. Jack Reynolds had made it clear—this was more than a simple business proposition. It was a fight for the future of Beaumont Vineyards, and she wasn't sure if she was ready for the challenge.