The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 530

3:00 PM. Trocadéro Square, Paris.

Sunlight pierced through the latticed steel of The Eiffel Tower, casting long, golden stripes across the massive plaza. Just beyond the heavy security barricades, a swarm of several hundred people had already gathered—tourists, locals, and influencers alike. It was a chaotic sea of raised smartphones, heavy camera rigs, and livestream setups.

The crowd had no idea what was actually happening, only that the area was locked down tighter than a military base. Whispers rippled through the onlookers. Some claimed it was a billionaire's wedding, others swore it was a massive blockbuster film shoot, and a few insisted it had to be an ultra-exclusive luxury brand launch.

A prominent influencer gripped his selfie stick, shouting excitedly into his phone. "Guys, are you seeing this? The entire plaza directly facing The Eiffel Tower is totally locked down! They're building a massive stage, rolling out an endless red carpet, and hauling in a literal ocean of flowers! The rumor mill says some insane foreign billionaire is staging a proposal!" The chat feed on his livestream was moving at breakneck speed. A viewer typed: *How rich are we talking?* The influencer lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Word on the street is the floral budget alone is north of ten million dollars."

Inside the barricades, Sebastian stood dead-center on the sprawling stage. Directly across from him loomed The Eiffel Tower, and just beneath it, The Seine gleamed like liquid gold under the afternoon sun. He turned around, his eyes tracing the path of the carpet. Six hundred feet of deep burgundy silk stretched all the way from the plaza entrance to the base of the stage, emitting a rich, subtle luster. Flanking the massive walkway, crews were frantically arranging the flowers. Tens of thousands of deep purple "Queen of the Night" roses were clustered in perfect symmetry. High-end floral designers were on their hands and knees, meticulously adjusting the angle of every single stem to guarantee absolute perfection.

"What are your thoughts, Mr. Thorne?" Philippe asked, standing just over his shoulder with his tablet in hand.

Sebastian nodded. "It's acceptable. Where are the drones?"

Philippe glanced up at the open sky. "All eight hundred units are on standby across The Seine. We run the final calibration sequence tonight, and they launch at exactly 8:00 PM tomorrow."

"The fireworks?"

"The Olympic team is locked in. Three acts, twelve minutes total. Firing from the secure barges anchored in the river."

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of approaching footsteps cut him off. He turned around. A man in his fifties was marching toward them, distinguished by his greying hair, gold-rimmed glasses, and dark grey suit. He moved with a brisk, authoritative stride, two aides trailing in his wake. Sebastian immediately recognized him—Mayor Jean-Claude Dupont.

"Mr. Thorne," the Mayor beamed, thrusting his hand out enthusiastically. "My warmest congratulations."