After the Divorce: Crushed on My Lawyer Ex-wife

5 “I Don’t Need Your Assistance.”

The banquet hall exudes an enchanting aura, adorned with vibrant emerald greens and pristine whites, the traditional colors for a momentous twentieth anniversary celebration. Despite Sophia’s initial rejection of Alexander’s invitation in her office, she acknowledges the significance of his company for her future endeavors and decides to attend.

Even though three years have passed since Sophia last donned formal attire, she remains well-versed in the art of making a grand entrance. Her figure-hugging Alexander McQueen black dress accentuates every curve flawlessly, while the embellished bustier emits a subtle radiance, captivating the attention of onlookers.

As she strides into the resplendent banquet hall, Sophia’s gaze scans the room, eventually resting upon Alexander, who stands near one of the bars, observing her intently.

Sophia offers a mere nod in Alexander’s direction before purposefully steering herself in the opposite direction, determined to forge her own path.

Making her way towards a bar situated on a serene terrace, Sophia glides elegantly through the venue, aware of the piercing scrutiny from those around her. The faint murmurs of judgment graze her ears, but she remains resolute, undeterred by the gossip. Sophia possesses a plan, and she is unwavering in her commitment to follow through.

At the terrace bar, Sophia orders a glass of white wine, her eyes scanning the lively gathering once again. It is then that a middle-aged man, wearing a sleazy grin, begins to approach her.

Perfect, Sophia thinks, an inkling of curiosity flickering within her. She already knows what he desires, judging by the unmistakable lust in his eyes.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” the man requests from the bartender, his gaze never wavering from Sophia’s enticing form.

With his drink in hand, he draws closer to Sophia, his sleazy aura palpable. “You embody sheer perfection, my dear. Although I’m certain you’re well aware of that,” he remarks, inching closer until his breath brushes against her neck.

you,” Sophia responds curtly,

her shoulder, “being a lawyer and looking the

quickly invaded as the man closes the gap. His gaze lingering on her curves, he persists, “You know, I recently acquired a secluded villa on a private island. The thought of you, lying on the

towards the man, bestowing

photographs and other incriminating documents of your indiscretions with other women. This evidence is more than sufficient to transfer ownership of your precious island villa into

remaining liquid

forward, driven by his misguided intent, but security swiftly

for this, Ms. Johnson,” one of the security guards reassures her.

it’s not the first time some sleaze bag has attempted to make

security guard blushes, his composure momentarily shaken by Sophia’s

curious,” Sophia playfully nudges, her raised eyebrow demanding an explanation. “How did you manage to

the face of Sophia’s undeniable beauty and power. “Mr. Stone

now?” Sophia nods, her expression maintaining a hint of intrigue as

I require, Mr. Stone’s request, please let

the guard responds promptly. “If there’s anything

weariness. “Is there a quiet place

me.” He leads her down a narrow hallway, guiding her into a private

to the guard and enters the room, finding relief as she takes a seat and removes one of her black Manolo Blahnik

door, her heel catches on a small section of carpet, causing her to stumble. Just before she falls, a firm hand

embrace, but Sophia quickly pulls away and