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.

address on this sheet. It’s where your grandfather resided in London three years ago. And when you realize I’m telling

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

had 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

shake the sense of urgency and intrigue that the stranger’s note had instilled in her. After a quick taxi ride back to her hotel, she found herself unable to enjoy the rest of the day. The mysterious address on the paper was like a riddle that demanded her

time. With the note clutched in her hand, she ordered a room service of coffee and muffins. These creature comforts would keep her alert and focused as she

Her eyes scanned through various results, bringing up pictures of the most ordinary apartment building she had ever seen. There was nothing remarkable

she needed more information to connect the

a meticulous process, navigating through bureaucratic databases, property records, and municipal resources. She was aware that the answers

she combed through online resources and databases, Sophia’s meticulous efforts began to yield results. It 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.

and sent it

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

waiting for the stranger. She looked around the building from the outside. There was nothing special about it, just an ordinary condominium

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

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, and cobwebs

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

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