I Sold My Company For $120 Million And Retired To Santorini. My Nephew Kept Asking About My Will While Holding A Poisoned Bottle Of Wine. I Decided To Play Dead To See His True Colors.

The Overlook Incident

I left him there and went to find Elena. She was in the pool swimming laps with fierce concentration. I sat on the edge and waited until she finished.

“Dad, you’re staring,”

she said, pulling off her goggles.

“I’m admiring my daughter. Is that allowed?”

She smiled and pulled herself out of the water.

“What’s wrong? Does Derek seem different to you? More interested in money than usual?”

Elena wrapped herself in a towel.

“Derek’s always been interested in money. It’s what makes him good at his job.”

She paused.

“Why? Did he say something?”

“He’s very concerned about my estate planning. Very concerned about what happens if I die.”

“Dad, that’s not—he’s probably just trying to be helpful. You did just sell your company for a fortune. People think about these things.”

“Maybe.”

But something felt off. It was an instinct honed by 30 years of business deals and boardroom betrayals. I’d learned to trust that feeling.

That afternoon, Derek suggested we all go wine tasting at a vineyard on the other side of the island. Benjamin begged off, claiming too much sun, but Elena was game. We drove through the whitewashed villages, Derek keeping up a steady stream of conversation.

At the vineyard, we sampled six different wines. I noticed Derek barely touched his glass, while Elena and I enjoyed ourselves. On the drive back, he offered to stop at a scenic overlook.

“Best sunset view on the island,”

he said.

The overlook was at the edge of a cliff. There was a small parking area with a stone wall and that iron railing for tourists to lean against safely. We got out, and Derek immediately pulled out his phone.

“Let me get a photo of you two. Elena, stand next to your dad.”

Elena put her arm around me, and we smiled. Derek snapped several shots, then spoke.

“Uncle Vincent, how about one of just you? You know, to commemorate the moment. Your first week of retirement in one of the most beautiful places on earth.”

I walked to the railing. The drop was dramatic, maybe 150 feet to the rocks and water below. The wind picked up, carrying the salt smell of the sea.

“Perfect,”

Derek said.

“Now turn and look at the view. I want to capture your expression.”

I turned my back to him, looking out at the endless blue. Behind me, I heard footsteps, close—too close.

“Derek?”

Elena’s voice was uncertain.

“Just get in the right angle,”

he said.

I felt him move behind me and felt the shift in air pressure. My combat training from the Marines 40 years ago kicked in. I stepped sideways just as hands reached for my back.

Derek stumbled past me, catching himself on the railing.

“Whoa,”

I grabbed his arm.

“Careful there.”

His face was flushed, his breathing heavy.

“Sorry, I… I tripped. These rocks are uneven.”

But his shoes were flat-soled, and the ground was smooth. And his eyes—for just a second, I saw something in them: rage, disappointment.

A Tainted Birthday

We drove back to the villa in silence. That night at dinner, Derek was overly solicitous. He was constantly refilling my wine glass and suggesting we try the local digestive.

He was insisting I relax and celebrate. I poured the drinks out when he wasn’t looking. Paranoid maybe, but I hadn’t built a successful company by ignoring warning signs.

The next day was my actual birthday. Maria prepared a special dinner, and Derek insisted we have it on the terrace at sunset.

“The most beautiful spot for the guest of honor,”

he said.

Benjamin joined us, bearing a gift: a first edition of one of my favorite novels. Elena gave me a framed photo of the three of us—her, me, and Catherine—from when Elena was 12.

“I found it in Mom’s things,”

she said.

“I thought you might like it.”

I held it, remembering that day—a rare Saturday where I’d skipped the office and we’d gone to the beach. I remembered Catherine’s smile and Elena’s gap-toothed grin. It was the life I’d been too busy to fully live.

“Thank you, sweetheart,”

I managed.

Derek cleared his throat.

“And my gift, Uncle Vincent. I’ve prepared something special. A toast with a wine I had shipped from California—your favorite vintage.”

He produced a bottle of 1985 Silver Oak Cabernet, my birth year. Catherine and I had shared a bottle on our 20th anniversary. He poured carefully, handing me a glass.

The wine was perfect—deep red with a rich aroma. I raised it to my lips.

“Wait!”

Maria’s voice was sharp and sudden. She’d come out to clear plates and now stood frozen, staring at Derek. Everyone turned.

She went pale, muttered something in Greek, and hurried back inside.

“What was that about?”

Elena asked.

Derek laughed nervously.

“Who knows? Maybe she’s superstitious about something.”

But I’d seen Maria’s face. She’d been afraid of Derek, of the wine. I set my glass down.

“You know what? I’m feeling a bit off. Too much sun, maybe. Derek, I appreciate the gesture, but I think I’ll stick with water tonight.”

Derek’s smile tightened.

“Oh, come on, Uncle Vincent. One glass. It’s your birthday. I went to a lot of trouble.”

“I said no.”

My voice had more edge than I intended. Silence fell over the table. Elena looked between us, confused, and Benjamin’s eyes narrowed.

Derek stood abruptly.

“Fine. I need some air anyway.”