Some ten years ago, Armo Shalik sick of his small way of life, let it be known by a discreet advertisement in an Egyptian newspaper that he was prepared to undertake for a reasonable fee any assignments that presented difficulties. He received only one answer to his advertisement, but it was enough, since his client was an Arabian Prince who wished to have inside information concerning a future oil deal between a rival of his and an American company. By using the prince's money and his own brains,  Shalik obtained the information. The deal netted him $10,000, a modest enough fee,  but the prince was grateful, and he passed the word  around that if you were in difficulties, if you wished for inside information, Shalik was the man to consult.

The following year with the capital he had saved, Shalik moved to London. He acquired a small list of extremely wealthy clients who continually consulted him. Money, of course, was no object.  Shalik's fees  rose sharply, but he always delivered. Among his clients were three Texas millionaires, four Arabians princes, two enormously wealthy American women, a Greek shipping tycoon and a number of

British

French

German and

Nigerian oil industrialists.

For some reason Shalik preferred  the Nigerian industrialists something about them being sly when expected, nice when needed and ruthless when least expected. He referred to them as ugly yet beautiful people.

He was often to say 'Nothing is impossible with unlimited money and brains'. He would pause to stare at his client.  'You will supply the money... I the brains'.

Armo Shalik prospered in the early days,  he considered whether to have a permanent staff to work under him, but he decided this was economically unsound.  Shall never wasted a dime, to keep a staff of experts on his payroll would mean half of them most of the time would be drawing on his money and doing nothing.

He decided to fit men and women when the job arrived. He discovered a not too scrupulous Detective Agency who were prepared to provide likely applicants without asking awkward questions, but also to screen them giving him intimate details of their background. It was on this way he found Flinn Stone,  Ken Jones and Garry Edwards.

His permanent staff was small consisting of Natalie Green who acted as his receptionist and personal assistant, and Nwaigwe Oghenetega who was a Nigerian and his private secretary and valet. But Shalik soon found that his assignments became more complicated and therefore more lucrative,  he needed a woman in the field to be permanently at his disposal,  a woman with exceptional talents and exceptional looks, a loyal woman.  Such a woman could be more useful to him than a dozen male experts.

So he set out to find a woman he could train to become his ideal woman operator. She had to be beautiful,  perfectly built,  talented, and be prepared to dedicate herself and her body to the work.

After searching for months for the perfect girl Shalik was invited to a dinner at the L'Angleterre Hotel by Shalik rich, spoilt  clients who had women  modelling coats which he made from the furs of killing endangered species.

Shalik arrived at the Hotel the following day and went to the private room that Larson's used for his excellent lunches and was welcomed by Larson, a balding, heavily-built Dane who gripped his hand and let him to the table before hurrying away to welcome yet another of his clients.

While Shalik was eating his lunch,  girls came in to display Larson's beautiful furs.  Then suddenly, as a girl swept in,  wearing a magnificent leopard skin coat,  Shalik paused at his eating.  After six months of searching, this was his moment of truth.  He was certain this time that whiskey was the girl he was looking for.

Above average height, with tawny hair,  hanging in silken waves to her shoulder blades, this girl possibly twenty-three or so years of age was the most sensationally, sensually beautiful feminine creation he had ever seen.

Shalik suddenly lost interest in his lunch as he watched her move. He beckoned on Larson who came over.

"I'll take the leopard skin coat" Shalik said.

"It's for Mrs. Van Halen "He paused,  then looked up and asked, "Who is the girl who modelled the coat?"

Larson smiled.

"Almost as magnificent as my coat, don't you think?

" She is Gaye Adesuwa Desmond".

"An African American freelance model, she is from Nigeria her parents Yoruba and Urhobo, She comes here time to time and she dosent speak of her parents or siblings, I don't ask and so should you.  I use her for my leopard skins...  I haven't seen any other girl with such flair to show off leopard."

Shalik took out his wallet, extracted his card and handed it to Larson.

"Would you be so kind to give her my card?".

Larson,  who knew Shalik,  had no hesitation.

Later when Shalik was sitting in his suite,  reading a complicated legal document,  the telephone bell rang.

He lifted the receiver.

"This is Gaye Adesuwa Desmond" .

He liked her rich, sultry contralto voice.

"You sent me your card.

A/N
I know I've been AWOL for some time considering this story I got major writers block....

Thank you all for taking your time to read this book I appreciate it, if you have any books you would like me to take a look at and give comments about.

Leave the comments about the book here.

I will take a look at the first 10 books and the others later.

Do check out my other book Branded and you can also find me on instagram @ ilackmelanin

I know this chapter might be a bit boring but I need to our this here so you guys won't get confused as the story goes.

I just want to say this book is going to be long like really really really long😁😁.

So please do stick around with me.

Also please if you are less than 18 don't read this book too many cuss words and mature scenes. I will suggest you take a look at Branded.

Thank you my lovelies 😍.