Paris Daillencourt Is About To Crumble นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The luxurious penthouse overlooking the glittering Eiffel Tower was bathed in soft golden light from crystal chandeliers. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the iconic monument sparkling against the Paris night sky. The air carried the faint scent of expensive perfume, polished marble, and the distant aroma of rain on Parisian rooftops. Genevieve Laurent, a 24-year-old French heiress, stood trembling in the center of the living room wearing only a sheer black negligee, her heart hammering with dark, shameful anticipation.

“There has been no concrete or solid location for now. Nothing has been set in stone yet. We are maybe—-” “Paris!” “Excuse me, sir?” “Paris?” “Yes, Paris. That's where Pyramid Heights will be constructed”. I said with a tone of finality. “Wow, you really have gone nuts!”. Bernard said with laughter lacing his voice. “A shield for rich bullies in the city of love?”. He spoke in amusement like I had just said the funniest thing ever. I am starting to think that the state of lunacy that his wife put herself in has slowly begun to infect him as well.

Leon’s POV Paris, 2:17 a.m., and the city I came to for business was just whore beneath me. I sat like a king that I am on the velvet chaise in the penthouse suite of the Hôtel de Crillon — the Imperial Suite, the one that cost a fortune for just a night and came with its own private elevator, marble floors that is colder than a corpse, and a view that made the Eiffel Tower look like a cheap toy.

Eli stuck out his hand, and Lucien shook it with a dangerous smirk on his face, as they had just closed a business deal. “He started baking at four in the morning,” Cassian said, as they both saw Eli walk away in the opposite direction. “Don’t,” Lucien said shortly. Cassian smiled into his coffee and mumbled; “Thirty days, this should be very interesting.” Lucien opened the pastry box, looked at the mille-feuille, and closed it again, then he walked to his council meeting trying not to think about any of it. By ten, Saint Aurelius knew, by eleven, @saintaurelius_confessions had posted a slightly blurred photo of the gate with the caption: