As Sorin stepped into the dimly lit chamber of Zavaris Winery, he was enveloped in a symphony of aromas—notes of oak, berries, and a hint of spice danced in the air. The winery was bustling with activity, even at this late hour, a testament to Zavaris' reputation as the best red wine producer in the city.Sorin's footsteps echoed against the stone floor as he made his way to the aging cellar. His mind, usually preoccupied with business strategies and financial forecasts, found a rare moment of calm amidst the serenity of the winery. Here, amidst the barrels and the carefully tended vines, he could almost forget the turmoil that had become his life.He spotted Andreas Zavaris, the patriarch of the family-owned winery, inspecting a row of barrels with meticulous attention. Sorin approached him with a nod of respect, acknowledging the elder man's expertise and dedication to his craft."Good evening, Mr. Zavaris," Sorin greeted, his voice carrying a hint of weariness that he couldn't quit
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