Biography of Morgane Kirax
By Trina Varriale

Morgane was born in a small house by the Ligurian Sea, in the town of Monterosso al Mare, in that breathtakingly beautiful area of Italy known as Cinque Terre.

Morgane's parents were of the Sea. The Sea brought them their livelihood, as her father was a fisherman. They also had a small guest house for the tourists who would come to be in this very special place by the Sea, and her mother saw to their comfort.

But even more than these day-to-day activities, the Sea was ever-present. There was no place that Morgane ever walked, ever played, that the Sea was not there. She grew into her teenage years never knowing a place without the blue, never-ending Sea stretching out to the horizon. She loved the sea, she loved where she lived, she loved her family. This was Home, and she would be here forever.

But this was not to be. When Morgane turned 18, her parents told her that there was another place for her. She had an elderly aunt, in Venice, whom she had never met, nor even heard of before. The family had agreed that Morgane would go to her when she reached adulthood, and take care of her. The aunt was very old and frail, and they did not expect her to live much longer. In return for her care, Morgane would inherit her aunt's estate, including a beautiful house on the Grand Canal in Venezia.

This was a great shock to Morgane, who did not want to leave her beloved Cinque Terre and everything else she had always known! But she was a good daughter, and knew that she must honor her parents' promise to her aunt.

And, Venezia! She had learned much of this amazing city in school, and from others who had visited there. At least she would still be living by water; in fact, the ocean would be right at her doorstep. She allowed herself to get excited by the trip, and her new life.

=====

It took several months to make all the arrangements, but the day came that her parents took her to the train that would take her to Venezia. They promised to write (they had never needed a telephone) and, after long, tearful hugs, said goodbye.

Morgane arrived at the Stazione di Santa Lucia in a frenzy of confusion. She had never been in a building this huge, or been around this many people at the same time. She was supposed to be met by a friend of her aunt, but how would they possibly know each other? But as she looked around at the brink of despair, she spotted a handsome man holding a sign with her name, "Morgaine Kirax" spelled (incorrectly) on it. She waved and ran over, pulling her suitcase behind her.

The young man introduced himself as Giovanni Varriale. He lived next door to her aunt, and often did errands for her when he was not in school or working. He took her suitcase and guided her expertly through the crowd to the edge of the canal, where a gondola was waiting.

The gondolianer and Giovanni helped Morgane into her seat, glad that the crowds of the station were behind her. And here she was, being taken to her home in one of Venezia's famous gondolas! She settled back and relaxed, as the beautiful city moved slowly by.

The ride did not take long. They stopped and stepped out in front of a very large house, with ornate double doors. Morgane looked around...he must have docked here because there was noplace else nearby? Surely this mansion was not to be hers? She turned to Giovanni, with the question in her eyes, and he said, "Yes, Miss Morgane. It is your new home, and it will be yours."

In shock, Morgane followed Giovanni up the stairs. He knocked, and a nurse came to the door. She had a grave expression on her face as she let them in. Morgane's aunt had taken a turn for worse; she was at the very edge of death. But she had known Morgane was coming, and was holding on to see her.

They followed the nurse upstairs. In a darkened room lay a very frail old woman. Morgane moved closer...she leaned forward and gently lifted her aunt's hand. A faint smile formed on her face, and she opened her eyes.

"Ah dear Morgane..." she said weakly. "Come here Child, so I may speak to you."

Morgane brought her face down to her aunt, who whispered, "I have very little time, my dear. But there is something very special in this house, hidden for you. When I am gone, and you are here alone, go to the wine cellar. Feel up in the very top left shelf, and take what is there. It will explain many things to you."

Morgane pulled her head back and looked at her aunt's face. Her aunt smiled, one last smile, and then she closed her eyes.

Morgane stood there for a long time, not conscious of the nurse in the room, or of Giovanni downstairs. She knew something very mysterious, and very special, was happening to her, but she would not know just what for quite a while.

=====

It was several days before Morgane found herself alone, with some time for herself. Although her aunt's funeral arrangements had all been made, Morgane was very busy meeting many people who had been her aunt's friends. She had been surprised that many of the mourners at the funeral were very young, very beautiful women. These were not the people she expected to be close to her very aged aunt.

Morgane found a flashlight and went down the dark stairs to the cellar. The wine was stored in a room by itself, with a very heavy oak door. She pulled it open--dust and cobwebs went flying everywhere! Surely any wine down here had gone bad long ago. She shined her light across the rows of bottles, and then up and to the right. There was a bottle the top-right-most slot, and she pulled it out.

She was surprised to see that the entire top half of the bottle had been cut off, leaving only a cylinder behind. Inside the cylinder was a black plastic bag; this had made the bottle look like it was full of deep red wine when it was on the shelf.

Her flashlight was already becoming dim, so she left the room, closed the door behind her and took the bottle upstairs to the kitchen. She sat down at the table, removed the bag and carefully opened it.

Inside was a folded piece of paper, a coin, and a key. She opened the paper and found it was a letter written by her aunt:

"Dearest Morgane,
If you are reading this, that means that I have died, or am no longer capable of minding my affairs, in which case my attorney directed you where to find this letter. By now, you will have taken possession of your new home, and what were all of my belongings.

"But you are not yet aware that you also are now the owner of a business. For many years, I have quietly owned and operated the highest quality modeling and escort service in Venezia." (Morgane froze; that's who all those women were!) As I write this letter, there are 35 girls in my employ. They are the finest, most beautiful women in northern Italy. And now they are yours.

"The key in this package is to my office--now your office. Go to the wine bar Aciugheta (every gondolianer knows it). Give the 1 Lira coin rom this package to Marcello at the door; he will know that you are not insulting him; it will be his indication that you are my niece. Follow him to the rear; he will take you to a red door, and then leave you alone. Use your key to enter the office, and to begin your new life.


"I know you will do honor to my business, dear Morgane. You are beautiful (I have seen pictures) and will grow even more so as you become a truly mature woman. My girls, and my assistant in the office, will love and respect you as they have me. And I will be watching you from above, and will give all the help that Heaven allows.

"All my best wishes for your life!

Ciao, Your Aunt Bibiana"

Morgane folded the letter carefully. "Bibiana"--meaning "alive"--seemed so poignant now. She had never known her aunt's name before, and now, when she was no longer alive, she suddenly missed her terribly. She put her head down and cried for a long time.

===================

Morgane dressed very carefully the next morning. She wanted to look older than her mere 18 years, so that her new employees would respect her. She chose a dark suit, but passed by her conservative pumps for a pair of stylish high-heeled sandals. She may be the boss, but this is an escort business, after all! She had to show them that she understood what it meant to be sexy. She unbuttoned one more button at the top of her blouse, and hung around her neck a silver pendant she had found in her aunt's jewelry box--a beautiful pentagram with diamonds at each of the intersections.

Morgane found the wine bar very easily; as her aunt said, the gondolianer knew exactly where it was. She entered, and all eyes were drawn to her. She knew immediately that the patrons of this business were accustomed to seeing beautiful women. "Welcome to Aciugheta!" said the man standing at the little podium, picking up a menu.

Morgane took the 1 lira coin she had in her hand, and held it out to him in a way that only he could see it. He looked at the coin, and then into her eyes, and his polite smile grew into one that encompassed his entire face. "Come with me, Miss Morgane!" he said. And he lead her to the door at the rear.

She stood alone at the door, with the key in her hand. She almost turned and ran--was she ready for this? But her aunt had entrusted this to her, and she felt obliged to at least try to succeed. (Besides, the prospect was also quite exciting for an 18-year-old girl from a small town!) She inserted the key, turned it, and stepped through the door.

==================
What she saw astounded her. The wine bar had looked like it had been there since Roman times; old wood, stone floors, ancient fixtures. Before her now was a modern office almost blinding in its brightness. White walls, black and brushed stainless steel desks, the latest computers. (At 18 years young, Morgane new what machines were hot.) There were two people who looked like her office staff, and several more on the phone, looking much more glamorous, whom she assumed were escorts.

They all looked up as she walked in. The ones on the phone waved, but the others immediately got up and came respectfully toward her.

"Good morning, Miss Morgane!" said the first woman to reach her. She had a managerial look about her, and that feeling was confirmed in a moment. "I am Miss Vitalia, your Office Manager. I will introduce each of your other staff members in just a few moments. But for now, please sit over here, relax, and let us get you whatever you like. Coffee? Espresso?"

"Espresso, please" replied Morgane, as she looked toward the seat being offered by Miss Vitalia. It was a large executive chair, behind the largest desk in the room. It was black ebony, with an inlaid marble top, which must have cost a fortune. She sat down, and saw that the center of the top was actually clear glass, with a large computer screen beneath it.

It took a moment for Morgane to recognize the image on the screen as a map of Venezia. There were bright dots of different colors on it, each with a name attached: Simona, Rosina, Trina, Mirella...

Miss Vitalia came over to her with her espresso. "Those are each of your girls, Miss Morgane," she said. "You can see this small cluster over here, that is where we are now. We track each girl with her mobile phone; that is for their safety as well as our efficiency. The blue ones are asleep or otherwise occupied outside of work; the green ones are available; the red ones are working with clients."

It was all quite overwhelming. The first day, she just watched and listened as the phones rang, people typed on the computers, and the most beautiful women she had ever seen came in and out through the red door.

Morgane did not like the feeling that she didn't really know about the business first hand. In the mid-afternoon, as things slowed down a bit during the heat of the Venezian day, she asked Miss Vitalia to step out into the wine bar with her. They selected a quiet table in a small booth, and Morgane told her of her concern.

"What I would like to do, Miss Vitalia," she said, "is learn myself exactly what it is we do. I would like you to select our finest escort, and assign her to train me to do what she does, as well as she does. Each day that she works with me, she will be paid at the highest amount of any day she has worked in the past year."

"Oh!" said Miss Vitalia. "She is very successful for us. That would probably be in the range of 1,000 Euros per day. It is very generous of you. But are you sure this is what you want to do? The business runs pretty much on its own; you are our owner and leader, but you can be involved only as much or as little as you prefer."

Morgane sat up a bit straighter, smiled, and looked Miss Vitalia in the eyes. "I am sure my aunt would want me to be very involved," she said. "It is a great honor that she chose to give me her business, which was so much of her life, and I must live up to that honor."

Miss Vitalia smiled back. "I knew you would say that, and it makes me very happy. We were without Miss Bibiana for so long during her illness, and we missed her strong and joyful presence very much. I saw that in you immediately when you arrived this morning; you are so much like her."

================

Morgane started her training the very next day with her companies top escort, a tall, auburn-haired beauty whom they called Miss Trina. Morgane was a very fast learner, and they soon became close friends, eventually teaching each other by sharing their experiences with their clients. Only the very richest, most handsome, most eligible men (and women) of Venezia, and of cities across Europe, were given access to these two most famous of escorts. Of course, they were also the mentors for all the new girls who came into the business, but their most special, unique and interesting stories were saved only for each other.

Miss Vitalia was correct; the business ran on its own. Morgane was happiest when she was working outside the office, bringing great pleasure to her clients. She became quite wealthy very quickly, and used her money and position to create an educational endowment for young women wishing to rise in the world of business.

Oh, and the name of the business that her aunt had created, built, and entrusted to Morgane? "La Seconda Vita."

THE END.

 

Make a free website with Yola