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.

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

the paper, and Sophia accepted it, her skepticism turning into curiosity. Before departing, the man issued a parting message. “I’ll be

paper, staring at the address with a sense of foreboding. It

her hotel, she found herself unable to enjoy the rest

ordered a room service of coffee and muffins. These creature comforts would keep her alert and focused as

the stranger. Her eyes scanned through various results, bringing up pictures of the most ordinary apartment building she had ever seen. There

truth. She knew that the address alone wouldn’t suffice; she needed more information to connect the dots. Her next task was to

shifted her focus and decided to access the website of London’s town planning. It was a meticulous process, navigating through bureaucratic databases, property records, and municipal resources. She was aware that the answers

didn’t take long 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. It was clear that her grandfather had indeed lived in

compelled to take action. With a sense of anticipation, she drafted a text message and sent it to the phone number he had provided, arranging to meet at the

for me there.” A smile of

Sophia stood in front of the address, waiting for the stranger. She looked around the building from the outside. There was nothing special about it, just an ordinary condominium full

that had settled around the dilapidated building. With a nod, he invited Sophia to follow him

walls exhaled the passage of time, exhaling the stories they held within. Sophia’s

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