The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 596

Paris, four in the morning.

The private tarmac at Charles de Gaulle Airport was swept by a chilling night breeze that made one's skin feel tight. A black corporate jet taxied slowly into its parking spot, the roar of its engines shifting from a high pitch to a low hum before finally falling silent.

The airstairs lowered.

Sebastian Thorne appeared in the doorway, wearing a dark gray overcoat with the collar popped up to conceal half his face. He glanced down—there was only a single black commercial van on the tarmac, its headlights off, parked quietly in the shadows.

A man stood beside the van. He was tall and lean, dressed in a black trench coat, looking up at him.

Sebastian walked down the stairs. The night wind whipped at his collar, but he didn't shrink away. His strides were brisk, his leather shoes snapping crisply against the asphalt.

The man stepped forward, a grin spreading across his face to reveal a row of white teeth. "Welcome back to Paris."

Sebastian looked at him, the corner of his mouth curving slightly. "Owen."

The two men shook hands. It wasn't a polite, formal greeting, but the firm, brief grasp of old friends.

Owen Blackwood, Sebastian's classmate from London Business School. His family was in foreign trade, and he had been in France for nearly ten years. Working in investments, he had a vast network and a sharp mind. Most importantly—he kept his mouth shut.

"Let's talk in the car." Owen pulled the door open.

Sebastian ducked inside. The door closed, cutting off the biting wind.

The car started and drove off the tarmac. The Parisian night slipped past the windows, streetlights receding one by one, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across Sebastian's face.

Owen glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "You've lost weight."

"I'm fine."

"Fine?" Owen scoffed. "Is Evelyn Sullivan not feeding you?"

Sebastian didn't respond.

Owen chuckled and dropped the teasing. He wiped the smile off his face and looked at Sebastian through the mirror again.

"Seriously, why all the secrecy this time? A private jet, landing in the dead of night, and telling me not to let anyone know—who exactly are you hiding from?"

Sebastian leaned back in his seat, looking out the window.

"I'm not hiding. Someone is trying to kill me."

Owen's fingers twitched on the wheel. "Who?"

"...It's a long story."

The car left the city limits and merged onto the highway. The streetlights thinned out, leaving the distant farmland in pitch darkness. Only the headlights illuminated the short stretch of road ahead, where insects swarmed in the beams of white light.

Owen remained silent for a moment.

"So, are you happy with the villa? The owner is listed under an offshore shell company, completely untraceable to you. I spent six months looking for it. The security system is military-grade. It's out in the country, miles from anyone. Much safer than your place in Paris."

Sebastian nodded. "It'll do. That's the spot."

"So who did you piss off?" Owen threw him another glance in the rearview mirror, his tone light but his eyes dead serious. "You called me in the middle of the night, chartered a private jet, and snuck back into France—Sebastian, give it to me straight."

Sebastian was quiet for a few seconds.