Bound (The Devil’s Vow #2)

5. Cheese, Wine, and Death

Chapter five

Cheese, Wine, and Death

For the rest of the day, Makayla led me through the grand hallways of the castle, explaining the different aspects of the estate’s operations.

My men followed behind us.

It was overwhelming at first—so much to manage, from the large staff of housekeepers, chefs, and gardeners, to the intricate workings of the farm, winery, and butcher's shop that kept the castle self-sustained.

Gianni even had a personal movie theater in the huge castle.

Toward the end of the big tour, Makayla led me deeper into the winding stone corridors beneath the castle.

As we descended, the air grew cooler.

The sound of our footsteps echoed softly, and the earthy, musty scent of aged cheese filled the space around us.

I hadn’t expected this—the castle having its own cheese caves. It was one of those details that added to the surreal, almost fairy-tale-like quality of my new life.

But this new life also wasn’t a light, fluffy fairy tale either.

This one had darker, sharper edges, much like the world Gianni lived in.

“The wine cellars and cheese caves are essential parts of the estate.” Makayla took her time going down the stone staircase. “They’re not only for our own use but are part of a business Gianni’s family has run for generations.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, Mrs. Fortunato, some of the finest wines and cheeses in the region are produced right here.”

“That’s incredible because I’ve always loved the cheese in Obsidian Bay more than other places.”

“I bet one of the wheels you’ve tried, came right from here.”

I followed her down into the cool, dimly lit cellars, the scent of aged wine and fermented cheese filling the air.

Large barrels lined the walls, and behind them, I could see rows of wine bottles stored in perfect order.

It was an impressive operation.

I cleared my throat. “I would love to learn about the processes and production of wine and cheese here.”

“Oh, Mrs. Fortunato the staff would love it.” She frowned. “I’m so mad at myself. I actually told them to take an hour off while I brought you down here. I had no idea you would want to meet them and learn about what they do.”

“Oh definitely. It’s all exciting and. . .I’m kind of in charge of it all.”

“Not kind of, Mrs. Fortunato. You are the only one in charge. Don Fortunato told me and the rest of the staff last week to only go to you about any problems on the estate and that your thoughts would even overrule his on any matter.”

Whoa.

I let all of that sink in.

“Either way, for the wine cellar, I will have you meet the Cellar Master tomorrow. He’s the one responsible for overseeing the entire wine production process, including storage, aging, and the care of wine in the cellar.”

“That would be amazing.”

“The rest of the staff in the wine cellar are two Winemakers. They do everything from fermentation to bottling.” She touched the side of her head as if that helped her remember more. “And let’s see. There is the castle’s Sommelier. He spends more time in the kitchen with the chef, but he likes to be down here too.”

“Okay.”

“And there’s two cellar hands that do all the racking of barrels, cleaning, and helping with the bottling process.” Then, she clapped her hands. “Oh yes. And the Barrel Cooper. I can’t forget good old Jolly. She’s a skilled artisan who builds and repairs the wooden barrels in which the wine is aged in.”

“Wow. This is a huge process. I’ll probably spend a good bit of time down here, just to really understand it all.”

“That will make everyone’s day.”

“Will it?”

“To them, you are the Queen of England.”

I chuckled.

She didn’t laugh.

Oh shit. She’s serious.

We left the wine cellars and then rounded a corner, and there it was—rows upon rows of massive shelves, each lined with wheels of cheese, aging in the cool, damp air.

This is so fucking amazing.

The walls were thick, jagged stone, and a dim yellow light flickered along the ceilings, casting a soft glow that made the place feel sacred.

It was quiet here too, very peaceful compared to the other parts of the grounds.

“These are the caves where we age the cheeses.” Makayla kept her voice low as if noise could ruin the quality of the cheese. “As I said before, they are an essential part of the estate’s production, and they’ve been in use for generations. When Don Fortunato moved here, his mother oversaw the transport of some of these wheels.”

“Very interesting.” I walked alongside her and scanned the endless shelves.

Many of the wheels were massive, others smaller, each labeled with dates and names I didn’t recognize.

“The Fortunato family has always been involved in the production. They export the cheeses to high-end clients, and it brings in significant income. But more than that, it’s a symbol of the Fortunato name. Excellence. Tradition.” She pointed to one. “Touch it. This is all yours now.”

I ran my fingers lightly along the surface of one of the wheels, feeling the rough, aged rind beneath my touch. “Who manages all of this?”

“There’s a dedicated team, of course.” Makayla continued to lead me further through the cheese caves. “We have the Affineur. She’s responsible for controlling temperature, humidity, and the specific conditions required for each type of cheese.”

I noticed some of the labels with dates and names adorned on certain wheels. Many of them had faded with age.

“Of course we have the Cheesemaker, who creates the cheese,” Makayla said. “And there’s the Cave Master who manages the cheese caves. The Cheese Curator who often works closely with the Affineur to monitor the aging process and determine when cheeses are ready for sale. And finally, all the cave workers who do any cleaning and organizing.”

“There is so much that goes into this.”

“Correct, Mrs. Fortunato.”

I tried to wrap my head around it.

This wasn’t just a mafia empire built on fear and control. There were layers here, traditions that had been maintained for generations, like the cheese aging quietly in these cool, dark caves.

Makayla guided me toward the far end of the cave, where the shelves thinned out, and a large stone table stood. “This is where the final inspection happens before the cheeses are sent out for sale.”

“Okay.”

“Every batch is meticulously checked for quality. Anything less than perfect never leaves this cave. No one wants to. . .upset Don Fortunato.”

“I can understand that.”

“So, we do what must be done, and make sure that he is always happy with the wine and cheese from the castle.”

I could hear the pride in her voice, and I realized that even in this quiet corner of the Fortunato empire, Gianni’s expectations of loyalty, of control, of dominance, extended even here, to the cheese caves and wine cellars.

I looked at Makayla, who watched me closely, as if gauging my reaction to it all. “Does Gianni spend much time down here?”

“Not as much as his mother did. When she was alive, she would visit here three times a week.”

“Then, I will do the same.”

Makayla’s expression brightened even more. “Perfect. I’ll help you in anyway. I’m so excited that you’re finally here.”

It was odd the way she said finally as if the whole staff had been waiting for me for a long time.

Makayla continued the tour, showing me the different types of cheeses, explaining the aging process, and pointing out where certain varieties were made.

I listened, trying to absorb it all, but my mind was already racing, thinking of everything I had seen today, of the responsibilities that now fell on my shoulders.

From the cellars, we moved through a maze of underground passageways.

Makayla pointed out various storage rooms, the kitchen’s supply area, and finally, what she called the butcher’s room.

I hesitated as we entered.

The sharp scent of meat thickened in the air.

Large slabs hung from hooks, waiting to be processed by the castle’s butchers.

But it was the room connected to it—the one Makayla quickly led me past—that made my blood run cold.

I pointed to the room that she wouldn’t even take us in. “What is that one used for?”

“This well. . .” Makayla’s voice grew shaky. “It is Don Fortunato’s Kill Room. Most of the staff is not allowed in here.”

Too curious, I stopped in front of the door and opened it.

Makayla remained in the hallway as if she wanted no parts of that space.

This is where he kills. . .

I took one step in and swallowed hard, taking in the dark, sterile place. There was nothing decorative here—just cold, hard concrete, steel, and a large drain set in the floor.

I could see the blood stains on the walls and ground, some old, some newer.

Even the energy in the room felt darker. This was where Gianni, his brothers, and his men dealt with those who crossed them.

Disloyalty met with brutal consequences.

But oddly enough, it didn’t scare me.

Perhaps, it was due to my childhood, growing up with my stepfather Maximo. He liked to kill men in his office. He’d even had a drain in the floor for the blood and other bodily fluids.

But honestly, he would kill a man anywhere in the house, if he felt like it.

I never witnessed those murders with my eyes, but I heard them whenever I was home.

And when I happened to step into one of Maximo’s recent murder sites—whether it be the living room or kitchen—I saw the signs.

The blood stains.

The scent of death.

The cold hopelessness in the air.

I swallowed and turned to her. “Can you answer something honestly for me, Makayla?”

“Yes, Mrs. Fortunato. I will try my best.”

“Does Gianni kill in other parts of the castle, or does he keep it all in this room?”

“It is in this room only.” Makayla inched back as if the space terrified her. “I must say that. . .one of the reasons why I have enjoyed working for Don Fortunato compared to some of the other. . . families . . .”

She trembled.

And I knew right there that she must have been employed with a lot mafia bosses before Gianni.

She cleared her throat. “Well. . .Don Fortunato takes great care in not. . .scaring the staff. He keeps any. . .unsavory dealings to under the castle, and when he is in our presence he never. . .takes advantage of us.”

“Good. He should respect the staff.” I stepped back and closed the door. “And I don’t like the idea of murder happening all over the grounds.”

She smiled. “His mother was the same way.”

“Oh yeah?”

Makayla nodded. “She was a really nice woman.”

We walked off and I glanced at her. “Thank you, Makayla. This has been a very informative tour.”

“We are actually done.” She touched the side of her head again. “Hmmm. Yes. I showed you every place, except Don Fortunato’s office. He gave me strict orders to not take you there.”

I tensed, remembering that he’d hurried me by that room when he showed me around too. “Have you been in his office?”

Makayla quickened her pace. “I have, Mrs. Fortunato.”

“What’s in there?”

“Well. . .” She gave me a respectful nod. “I believe that is for Don Fortunato to say.”

Not wanting to get her in any trouble, I left it alone. “Okay.”

There was a mystery with that office connected to his wanting me to be his wife. And he kept putting it off, but after this whole gala tonight and whatever that brought, I would need to know all the answers.

In fact, if he didn’t tell me, then I would go into that damned office myself and figure out what was so hush-hush.

Makayla cleared her throat. “However, Mrs. Fortunato. If you have any questions or need help with anything else , I’m always here.”

“Thank you, Makayla.”

She checked her watch. “Oh my. I should get you up to your master suite. The Gala will be soon.”

Earlier in the tour when we’d gone into the ballroom, I’d spotted people decorating.

It had been a whirlwind of activity, with staff members dusting the elegant chandeliers and draping rich, gold fabrics across the walls.

The room itself was stunning, with high ceilings, elegantly carved moldings, and massive windows that bathed the space in soft, natural light.

I’d seen tables being arranged, each covered with pristine white linens, and vases filled with deep red roses.

What will happen at this Gala?

Even more, I hoped Gianni wouldn’t cut off another hand with his saw, Sofia.

I hope there will be no bloodshed this evening.

As we approached the master suite, Makayla slowed her pace, turning to me with a polite smile. “I’m sure you’ll want some time to get ready for tonight, Mrs. Fortunato. The staff will be available if you need assistance with anything.”

“Thank you again.”

With a quick nod, she departed, leaving me standing alone in front of the massive doors of the suite.

Alright. I’m the. . .Lady of the castle now. Wow. And the wife to Don Fortunato, an even bigger wow.

I took a breath, reached for the handle, opened the doors, and stepped into the room.

However, the moment I crossed the threshold, my breath caught in my throat from the sight.

What the fuck is going on in here?!