Chapter 1

1949. A Small Town. Europe

The lamp on the counter makes the kitchen a dim shade of yellow. It’s getting late and most have already gone to bed. Malena, having just finished cleaning the kitchen, pulls her top down to her waist. There’s water in the sink and she wipes her chest and armpits with a wet cloth. Then she squeezes a half cut lemon onto her breasts for fragrance and cleansing properties.

I’ve watched Malena grow into the respectable woman she is now, so she doesn’t mind that I’m standing here. She bends over the sink and splashes water onto her voluptuous breasts, then wipes her hands beneath her armpits.

“Do you have a moment?” I ask.

“Always, what can I do for you?”

Malena looks at me with tired eyes on her beautiful face. She works from morning to night, in service to God, in service to others. She’s loved for her work ethic and heart. And I love her as the daughter I’ve never had, but always wanted.

“It’s come to my attention that the student Emily has been engaging in salacious activities. I’d like you to speak with her.”

“She was planning to sell her innocence to a man. Or men. A student informed me of this transgressive behavior after others were caught doing it.”

“Sitting in the hallway. She’s been crying for the last few minutes after I confronted her.”

Malena takes a dry towel and wipes her breasts and armpits. Then she wears her black dress, white headpiece and veil. Since it’s later in the night, she doesn’t bother wearing anything else beneath her formal top.

I go to the hallway and summon Emily, a 19 year old, whose head is facing down and she’s wiping tears. When I call her, she stands and follows me. Her lips are pouty and her facial features are adorable. Her shoulders slump forward, but she tries to be brave about this.

When we get to the kitchen, Malena is sitting by the table and I have Emily sit across from her. Two lamps illuminate their faces. I close the door for privacy and I sit far away.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing,” Malena says.

Her voice is warm, non-judgemental. This approach works best when dealing with delinquent students. That’s why I brought Emily to this woman.

“I agreed to do something stupid. I’m very sorry. All I ask is that my parents never find out. Punish me if you must, but don’t tell my mother and father.”

“You’ll have to explain further if you want atonement.”

“A man offered to buy my chastity,” Emily says.

“A business man in the city. Other girls did the same with other rich men.”

“Did you agree to the terms?”

Emily nods. “I agreed, but I was extremely hesitant. It never happened. I swear it didn’t happen. I can prove it if you wish to look below.”

“It didn’t happen because you were caught.”

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m very sorry.”

“Emily, if you needed the money, you could have come to us for a part-time job. There’s plenty that needs to be done around here. You know this.”

“It wasn’t about money.”

Malena catches on right away. She sits in silence as Emily shamefully hangs her head down again. Anybody else would level harsh punishment or expulsion without hesitation. Malena works differently and I’m waiting to see what she does.

“Your body language reveals that you’re a virgin with no sexual experience. That’s a good thing. But we must also understand that sex is part of life. I won’t tell you what to do with your body. If you want to sell it, then sell it. But I’m asking that you consider other alternatives.”

Emily lifts her head. “So I’m not in trouble?”

“I will never punish a young woman for natural desires.”

“Thank you. I will do anything you say.”

“Do you practice self-care when you’re alone?”

Emily’s eyes widen. “That’s against the teachings of this institution.”

“At your age, the rules are more flexible. I’ll ask you again. Do you practice self-care when you’re alone?”

“Sometimes. I hate that I love it. I try to avoid these things.”

“I understand your conflict.”

“This is the hardest part of my life. I always wonder why God punishes me with these feelings. That’s why I was so close to sinning with the business man. Because I needed a release. I kept asking myself if doing that would make the pain go away.”

“You’re asking yourself the wrong questions,” Malena says.

“What should I be asking myself?”

Malena holds the girl’s hand. “What have you done for your labia today? Did you pamper her? Feed her curiosities? Do you accept your labia for all that she is? Do you whisper kind things to her? If your labia is happy, then you are at peace.”

This shocks Emily to the core and she gasps so hard that she’s forced to breathe deeply.

“How can you say these things? You of all people.”

Malena strokes the girl’s hand. “I’ve lived a complicated life. More than you could ever understand. Would you like to hear about it?”

“Yes. I’ve always thought highly of you.”

“I have the same affection for you. That’s why I’ll tell you a secret, but only if you swear to God that it stays between us.”

“Yes, I swear to God that it’s our secret.”

This is going to be a long night and I’m shocked that Malena has decided to reveal her secret. I get up and put a kettle on the stove to make tea for everyone. By the end of the night, Emily will be made a woman.

My mother was a woman of the world and that’s how I was raised. She raised me with love and kindness, but when I became a teenager it was obvious that she was a deceitful woman. She used her beauty and charm to talk her way into anything. My mother’s cunning instincts were how we survived.

When I became a young woman, we moved to Italy, years before the war. Our lifestyle had improved and my mother worked her way into high society. We lived in a pleasant home by the ocean. She never officially had a job. All she had was her beauty. And that was enough.

I’d come to learn that she used her body to move ahead. I remember spying on her when she came home late after a party. She was kissing some guy, a local political figure, and they had a bottle of wine with them. They were whispering and I had no idea what they were saying. But through the keyhole, I saw her remove her dress and fall to her knees.

We never spoke about it, but she knew I was listening. There was never any shame. It was business. And when more visitors started coming, she’d have more money in her pocket and she’d buy nicer clothes and fancier jewelry. I wasn’t ashamed of her, I wasn’t proud either. It was simply the way the world worked and we were happy.

Reality struck years later and I was alone. Just like that. My perfect life was flipped upside down and I was lost. I cried every night for over a week. Reality struck again when the bills were due. My mother had a pile of cash hidden in her closet and it was enough to last for several months.

The men who were fond of my mother offered to support me, to care for me. I strongly considered their offers. But I was still naive. I learned that their idea of ‘taking care’ of me was to fuck me and turn me into a servant. I considered it, but decided it wasn’t worth my freedom. I wanted to see the world, just like my mother did when she was younger.

So I took my mother’s money and traveled from place to place, and when the money started running out, I did what I learned from my mother. I used my beauty and youth to get into high society. I invested in expensive dresses and finely honed my skills to manipulate men, and I could charm anyone with my quick wit and easy smile.

Once I made the right connections, I did what I learned from my mother. I laid on my back for a price. On my knees for an even higher price. I’m prettier than my mother so I became richer than she ever could have imagined. But it was never enough. I always wanted more. I’d go into towns and societies and find the richest men and bed them, and when I got bored of them, or when I had the right opportunity, I stole from them. Not an extreme amount, but enough to make them hurt. Sometimes I convinced men to invest in businesses that didn’t even exist, so the money went straight to me. I made a small fortune over the years doing that.

Eventually I became mindful that my lifestyle was a dangerous one, always having to look over my shoulder wondering if someone was going to plunge a dagger into my stomach. Would I have deserved it? I think so. But I was a survivor and I knew how to always change my identity and appearance.

One morning, as I was having breakfast at a local cafe, I concocted the most audacious scheme yet. I saw a group of nuns going around collecting donations and I was tired of whoring myself, so I decided to wear the veil. I knew that with my face, I would collect a lot of money. And if the price was right, I would get on my knees, because being serviced by a beautiful woman in the veil was surely worth a considerable amount of money.

I studied for weeks, learning the prayers and hymns, watching their body language, studying their rules and hierarchies. Then I wore the veil and robe, collecting money during the day and going to my home at night. I no longer needed to whore myself for money, but that desire never went away. I kept taking new lovers, but this time for free. My body was accustomed to it, or perhaps I was born with an insatiable sexual appetite.

My plan became more audacious when I traveled to a new city and discovered a covenant that moved massive sums of gold. I’m ashamed to say this, but my plan was to join and gradually skim the gold in small amounts. They wouldn’t notice right away, but over time they would realize what was missing and I would already be gone. I would be wealthy. Then I’d move to the next place.

I had already gotten on my knees for a few of the guards and men who worked for the covenant, so I had information about how the gold was transported and stored. My plan was perfect, but as I’d come to learn, there’s nothing perfect about a life of sin.