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

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

appeared, he disappeared into the bustling crowd of people. Sophia 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 the

taxi ride back to her hotel, she found herself unable to enjoy the rest of

she wasted no time. With the note clutched in her hand, she ordered a room service

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, bringing up pictures of the most ordinary apartment building she had ever seen. There was nothing remarkable about it, and it only added to

wouldn’t suffice; she needed more information to connect the dots. Her next task was to discover the owner of the

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 to her questions might be buried deep

of an old man named Christopher Johnson connected to

With a sense of anticipation, she drafted a text message and sent it to

quickened as she received the stranger’s concise response: “Wait for me there.” A smile of satisfaction played on Sophia’s lips as she leaned back in her

Sophia stood in front of the address, waiting for the stranger. She looked around the building from the outside. There was nothing

disrupted the silence that had settled around the dilapidated building. With a nod, he invited

time, exhaling the stories they held within. Sophia’s eyes scanned the dark room, its once vibrant colors now faded, and cobwebs clung to forgotten corners. The place felt frozen

each step echoing through the deserted place. Sophia moved carefully, checking every room, every piece of furniture, and every

floors creaked underfoot, complaining about the intrusion, as Sophia meticulously examined the spaces, her fingers tracing patterns