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

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

held the piece of paper, staring at the address with a sense of

instilled in her. After a quick taxi ride back to her hotel, she found herself unable to enjoy

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

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

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

planning. It was a meticulous process, navigating through bureaucratic databases, property records, and municipal resources. She was

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

sent it to the phone number he had provided, arranging to meet at the front of

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

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

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

passage of time, exhaling the stories they held within. Sophia’s eyes scanned the dark room, its once vibrant colors now faded,

for Sophia to explore, his eyes guarded, as 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

Sophia meticulously examined the spaces, her fingers tracing patterns in the dust. Cobwebs clung to her hair, and