After, my podcast with Georgia Melaris, I thought that it be important to give all of you a little taste of what Daniela is like. Georgia was very kind in allowing me to post the entire first chapter. If you like what you read, which I know you will check out Daniela; you only have a few months before the sequel comes out and it’s going to be a doozy.

Thank you Georgia for sharing your work with us!

Happy Reading,

Rania Watts, EIC CCIQ Press

Chapter 1

Her bags were in the hall, packed and ready. As she anxiously waited for her taxi, she checked that her passport, money and cigarettes were in her handbag. Everything was in place. The moment felt too good to be true. The taxi pulled up to the drive just as Demetri, her husband, gave her a hug.

   ‘Enjoy the trip and have a great time at the party, my love,’ he said.

   Everything was moving according to her plan and she was so excited, her pulse was high and she felt her heart beating hard through her body.

   She knew that neglecting her responsibilities was the sin she had to live with and felt guilty about leaving her husband and daughter Alainna behind, to be with Paolo, the man who made her feel complete.

She had met Paolo in a bank one busy morning and, when he noticed she was having trouble with her account, he had come to her rescue. That was it! The on-off, love-hate affair had begun.

They exchanged phone numbers and within twenty-four hours he dialed her number and, partly to her own surprise, she agreed to meet with him. Daniela had thought that a little bit of fun wouldn’t hurt, this time with an older man. 

She had had an affair a while before, with Giovani, but that hadn’t lasted at all. She was mainly desperate to escape from the dull routine of her life, but Paolo’s intentions were to go all the way and he always got what he wanted.

Paolo began phoning her constantly, telling her how much he wanted to be with her, literally sweeping her off her feet until he got her into a five-star hotel. She remembered that first time so clearly. He had been so attentive and she thought he was such a gentleman. They sat in the luxurious room and talked about themselves; he telling her how unhappy he was in his marriage and she explaining that her own marriage had begun when a good friend of hers introduced her to Demetri, and how there had never been any romance to keep alive. Most of that evening was spent with kisses and cuddles, which he rightly guessed she was starved of. He had filled the Jacuzzi with hot water, rose petals and a few added drops of essential rose oil and lit candles all around the side of the Jacuzzi. She could still remember the scent and the romance. As soon as she entered the room she had realised that Paolo must have spent a lot of time and effort to organise the evening. No one had ever done anything like this for her before.

They had sat opposite each other in the Jacuzzi and he slowly massaged her toes, one by one. His hands then gently slid over her smooth legs, caressing every inch of her skin. She moved her body, allowing the water jets to massage her curves. Paolo placed his hands on her waist and could wait no longer. He made the connection they both so desperately desired in the warm, scented water. His stiff body inside her, his hands now pulling on her hips as their bodies swayed rhythmically to their sexual needs. Daniela felt this was the beginning of something very special.

After that first night, Paolo had always made an effort to meet with her and, whenever possible, had taken her out to expensive places and showed her how it felt to be cared for and wanted.

Six months had past and now they were arguing constantly. He was feeling that the time had come to move on to someone new. Daniela still remembered that first time and could not accept that this might be the end.

When Paolo had announced that he was going to London for business, she suggested she could go with him. She felt this was a great opportunity to try and make things work between them, to bring back the excitement and passion they once shared. And there she was, standing outside her house, waiting for the taxi, hoping this trip would make everything okay between them and bring the romance back, and continue their affair.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the bibbing of the car horn. She kissed and cuddled her daughter Alainna and made her way into the taxi. The driver began the journey to the airport and Daniela simply sat back, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the beginning of what she expected to be an unforgettable vacation.

All she was able to think about were the three forbidden nights she was to spend with Paolo, in an exciting city, full of life. No hiding, no disapproving faces and with no complications, just endless sexual fun. She was really feeling the thrill of it all.

Daniela knew that Paolo had arrived in London the previous night for a business meeting and was certain that, once his work was done, he would spend time with her. She was the most attractive and kind woman he had ever seen, or at least that is what he repeatedly told her. Her body voluptuous and firm, her hair long and silky with a healthy shade of dark brown, her make-up always perfect, her skin as white and smooth as porcelain. People often complimented her on her beauty, but she thought they were simply being kind.

They approached the airport and her stomach filled with butterflies, making her feel nervous. She felt anxious and enthusiastic, frightened but still tremendously excited.

‘Here we are, signora, I’ll help you with your bags.’ The driver carefully placed all her luggage onto a trolley which he had found nearby and pushed it inside the terminal building. She paid him and, to his surprise, she added a generous tip. She then thanked him in a heartfelt way and all he could do was stare into her big, green, almond-shaped eyes. 

‘Arrivederci, signora,’ he said, waving his hand, turning and making his way back to his cab.

Her fantasy was moving along as well and as smoothly as she had hoped. Daniela checked in and asked for a window seat. Clutching her boarding card, she went through to the duty free and bought herself a mobile phone, a sensuous body lotion and a bottle of expensive whiskey for Paolo. 

‘ALL PASSENGERS TO LONDON ON FLIGHT AL ITALIA AZA 334, PLEASE PROCEED TO GATE THREE.’

She began to make her way to the gate where the other passengers were seated chatting away. Time seemed to be moving faster than ever. She boarded the plane, went to her seat and made herself comfortable, ready for take-off.

Paolo had told her the name of the hotel she would be staying in but she didn’t know how far it was from the airport. Not that it mattered because Paolo would be waiting to meet her, obviously not holding a rose, as this was not his style; he did not like scenes. She imagined he would leave the roses on the bed and a bottle of Dom Perignon in an ice bucket on the table set for two. She thought it was possible that he had perhaps bought her the most seductive lingerie money could buy and would give it to her in a ribbon-tied box, filled with scented tissue. How wonderful, she thought.

She tried to decide what she could do for him the moment they were finally together; she could take a hot bath and use her new body lotion, while he poured ice-cold champagne into elegant glasses and perhaps repeat the first time they made love, in the Jacuzzi that night.

‘Coffee, madam?’ asked the steward, rousing her from her thoughts.

‘Oh, yes, thank you,’ she replied.

‘Milk?’ he asked, holding up a large, blue flask.

‘A little, yes.’ As he poured the coffee, she could see him staring through her slightly unbuttoned blouse. Secretly, she welcomed his gaze. Looking directly at him, she said, 

‘That’s enough milk, thank you.’ He smiled and moved on.

‘Coffee, sir …?’

Sipping her coffee, she thought how fortunate she was to have everything she needed – everything except the love of a man, a man who would love her deeply and be loved by her in return.

Although Demetri did love her, she was not in love with him and this made her marriage feel numb.

Demetri had been an attractive young man from a working-class Greek family. His father owned a construction company, dealing with many large projects both in Greece and in Italy. He had graduated with a business degree, enabling him to take over his father’s business and make it even more successful than it already was. When his father died, Demetri had full responsibility of the firm and was now making enough money to provide his wife with a warm, luxurious house and all the clothes and jewellery a woman could wish for. Not once had it occurred to him that these were all unimportant, materialistic things and that what Daniela most needed was love and friendship. 

She was at fault, knowing she had based her marriage upon an expensive address in which she could keep her countless pairs of designer shoes, while letting her husband believe she was content and settled.

He had been attracted to her the moment he set eyes on her. At that first introduction, Demetri felt that Daniela was the perfect woman for him. He did everything in his power to make her Mrs D. Diamandidis. She knew she was destined for a better life than she had with her mother; her single mother, with no trade or the wherewithal to provide for Daniela. Felisha was a desperate woman with a young child to raise, and she did it the only way she knew how.

Daniela was young and innocent and believed it was normal to entertain so many different ‘uncles’ in one’s home. It was only when she became a teenager that she realised that these men, who so frequently visited their home, were her mother’s only source of income. These men enabled Felisha to provide for Daniela. What she couldn’t provide, though, was the love and affection of a father the child so desperately desired.

She sat Daniela down and explained that, as long as she did not get personally involved with the clients, her job would be an easy one. But the moment she allowed her emotions to get in the way, then the problems would start and her job would become hard and painful.

Daniela never had a boyfriend, nor did she ever date, she simply did her job and it ended there. She had dreams like every girl her age. She wanted to study medicine and open her own clinic for children, but money was scarce and so her choice was to stay at home and do as her mother did or work for the Mafia and risk losing her life.

Most poor, uneducated young girls from broken families ended up on the streets, throwing themselves at the men passing by to make a living. At least Daniela stayed at home and the men came to her. She wanted her mother to stop trading with these men, but her mother reminded her that they had bills to pay, and food did not appear by magic.

Felisha was born and raised in Seguro, a small town near Milan. Felisha’s father, Roberto was sent to Germany during the war in 1940 and was away for six years. His wife Maria was pregnant with their first child, Felisha. When he returned home, they had seven other children, one after the other. Felisha being the oldest was taken out of school and kept at home to help her mother with the upbringing of her siblings. 

When Felisha got married, she followed her husband to Naples in search of a better future. Things didn’t turn out quite as they planned and Daniela’s father turned to the bottle. Mother and daughter had to move into a smaller place to live.

Daniela’s mother, Felisha, had told her how her father had walked out when Daniela was a small child, leaving her mother to raise her then, two-year-old daughter. He had not kept in touch at all. Still, today, she did not know where her father was and she tried not to think about him, pushing him to the back of her mind in a dark, lonely place where she felt he belonged. She tried hard not to think about him but, thoughts of him kept popping up, unsettling her.

Their home was in a rundown part of Naples, with two bedrooms: one decorated seductively like a ‘B’ movie film set, strictly used for business; the other, dull and damp, which they both shared. The tiles in the bathroom were cracked and falling off the walls, and the kitchen cabinet doors were hanging off their hinges. In the corner of the kitchen, above the small fridge, her mother kept icons of Mother Mary and Jesus, to whom she would pray and ask for forgiveness for their sins every night. The small entrance, where the customers entered and waited for a moment or two until they were greeted, was cosy and comfortable.

Felisha was under the impression that her daughter was asleep at night when she had ‘guests’, but the walls were thin and every sound kept Daniela awake. The girl spent most of her evenings alone in her room until her mother finished work. She would lie awake, waiting for her mother to complete the routine, when she would creep into the room quietly, scrape past the bed and put more money in a tin on the top shelf. The tin was next to an expensive bottle of perfume, which was a gift from one of her clients and she wore it only for him.

Her mother had eventually saved enough money to build a small extension at the back of the house. It was nothing special, but it was Daniela’s private room, where she entertained, giving her a space away from the main house. She could no longer hear sounds from her mother’s room, nor could her mother hear Daniela or see the tears that she cried, night after night.

She coped well with following in her mother’s footsteps. She began working soon after her sixteenth birthday, when she was forced to abandon her childhood and, reluctantly, become a working woman.

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