Spark [Sheldon_Sidney]_The_Other_Side_of_Midnight(BookSe | Page 162

Noelle’s character. As the months went by Gautier began to feel a little more secure. It seemed to him that Noelle had met everyone who might matter to her and she had shown no interest in any of them. She had not yet met Constantin Demiris. Constantin Demiris was the ruler of an empire larger and more powerful than most countries. He had no title or official position, but he regularly bought and sold prime ministers, cardinals, ambassadors and kings. Demiris was one of the two or three wealthiest men in the world and his power was legendary. He owned the largest fleet of cargo ships afloat, an airline, newspapers, banks, steel mills, gold mines—his tentacles were everywhere, inextricably woven throughout the woof and warp of the economic fabric of dozens of countries. He had one of the most important art collections in the world, a fleet of private planes and a dozen apartments and villas scattered around the globe. Constantin Demiris was above medium height, with a barrel chest and broad shoulders. His features were swarthy, and he had a broad Greek nose and olive black eyes that blazed with intelligence. He was not interested in clothes, yet he was always on the list of best-dressed men and it was rumored that he owned over five hundred suits. He had his clothes made wherever he happened to be. His suits were tailored by Hawes and Curtis in London, his shirts by Brioni in Rome, shoes by Daliet Grande in Paris and ties from a dozen countries. Demiris had about him a presence that was magnetic. When he walked into a room, people who did not know who he was would turn to stare. Newspapers and magazines all over the world had written an incessant spate of stories about Constantin Demiris and his activities, both business and social. The Press found him highly quotable. When asked by a reporter if friends had helped him achieve his success, he had replied, “To be successful, you need friends. To be very successful, you need enemies.” When he was asked how many employees he had, Demiris had said, “None. Only acolytes. When this much power and money is involved, business turns into religion and offices become temples.” He had been reared in the Greek Orthodox Church, but he said of organized religion: “A thousand times more crimes have been committed in the name of love than in the name of hate.” The world knew that he was married to the daughter of an old Greek banking family, that his wife was an attractive, gracious lady and that when Demiris entertained on his yacht or on his private island, his wife seldom went with him. Instead, he would be accompanied by a beautiful actress or ballerina or whoever else struck his current fancy. His romantic escapades were as legendary and as colorful as his financial adventures. He