After the Divorce: Crushed on My Lawyer Ex-wife

#86 “How do you know my grandfather?”

Sophia scrutinized the man with a keen eye, her gaze taking in every detail. He was cloaked in a long black coat, and a hat cast a shadow over half of his face. Nothing about his appearance rang familiar, and an unsettling feeling gnawed at her.

A furrowed brow accentuated her suspicion as she inquired, “How do you know my grandfather?”

The man’s reply was curt, offering no explanation. “That’s not important now. He wanted me to meet you and give you a message.”

Sophia didn’t appreciate his evasive response; it only heightened her wariness. “Then tell me the message,” she shot back sharply. Unfazed by her skepticism, he continued, “Not here. We need to go to a more secluded place to…”

Sophia cut him off abruptly. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

A cold, enigmatic smile played upon the man’s lips. He produced a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket, hastily scribbling down something.

this sheet. It’s where your grandfather resided in London three years ago. And when you realize I’m telling the truth, call

into curiosity. Before departing, the man issued a

held the piece of paper, staring at the address with a sense of foreboding. It was a puzzling turn of events, and she couldn’t deny

intrigue that the stranger’s note had instilled in her. After a quick taxi ride back to her hotel, she found

in her hand, she ordered a room service of coffee and muffins. These creature comforts would keep her alert and focused as she delved into

small table by the window, Sophia opened her laptop and initiated her search. She Googled the address, inputting the street name given by the stranger. Her eyes scanned through various results,

she needed more information to connect the dots. Her next task was to discover the owner of the apartment, a potentially more

website of London’s town planning. It was a meticulous process, navigating through bureaucratic databases, property records,

for her to confirm the existence of an old man named Christopher Johnson connected to the address she had been provided. Her heart quickened as she realized that the stranger had not led her astray.

sense of anticipation, she drafted a text message and sent it to the phone number he had provided, arranging to meet at the front of the apartment building the next

A smile of satisfaction played

stood in front of the address, waiting for the stranger. She looked around the building

that had

the apartment’s long abandonment. It was as though the very walls exhaled the passage of time, exhaling the stories they held within. Sophia’s eyes scanned the dark room, its once vibrant colors now faded,

if he knew more than he let on. She began her search, each step echoing through the deserted place. Sophia moved carefully, checking every room, every piece of furniture, and every potential hiding place for clues left by

floors creaked underfoot, complaining about the intrusion, as Sophia meticulously examined the spaces, her fingers tracing patterns in the dust. Cobwebs clung to her hair, and she brushed them away, her