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.

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

turning into curiosity. Before departing, the man issued a parting message.

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 intrigue that

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

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

by the stranger. Her eyes scanned through various results, bringing up pictures of the most ordinary apartment

knew that the address alone wouldn’t suffice; she needed more information to connect the dots. Her next task was to discover the owner of the apartment, a potentially more

bureaucratic databases, property records, and municipal resources.

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

message and sent it to the phone number he had provided, arranging to meet at the

quickened as she received the stranger’s concise response: “Wait for me there.” A smile of satisfaction

low in the morning 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

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

they entered, a musty odor greeted them, a testament to 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, and cobwebs clung to forgotten corners. The

her search, each step echoing through the deserted place. Sophia moved carefully,

intrusion, as Sophia meticulously examined the spaces, her fingers tracing patterns in