After the Divorce: Crushed on My Lawyer Ex-wife

#91 “I Want You to Do Some Research on the Sophia Case.”

Alexander returned to the hotel. Determined to untangle the web of deception, Alexander sought solace on the sofa, armed with a pen and a sheet of paper. He had decided to write down everything incriminating about Sophia on a sheet of paper. This simple act, a cathartic release, was a technique he had honed over the years.

The television droned on, broadcasting the latest developments in Sophia’s case. Alexander, immersed in his thoughts, meticulously scrutinized the charge sheet. He unreservedly believed that Sophia was telling the truth, he had seen it in her eyes as they sat in the apartment that was supposed to be her grandfather’s. Sophia couldn’t have lied to him, which made him think Cassie was the one not telling the truth.

As he chewed on the end of the pen, Alexander couldn’t shake the suspicion that Cassie, the girlfriend of the deceased, held the key to the truth. It was suspicious to Alexander that the deceased had notified his girlfriend in advance of a threat.

He thought it was over-planned, meaning he expected the worst. The man had shown a photo of Sophia, a photo that had so fittingly ended up in the police the other day. Every piece of evidence was so neat that it was impossible.

There are thousands of criminal cases in which years go by without finding a perpetrator or solid evidence, and there are thousands of perfectly stacked evidence against Sophia.

Alexander thought it was comical. Even if she imagined a sleazy lawyer like Sophia Johnson was involved in drug dealings, why would she be so careless in her work? Why would she go out on her own to make a drug deal when the risk is so great?

The risks involved, the sheer impracticality of her engaging in such a venture with her financial means, baffled him. It wouldn’t make sense for a petite woman like her to do such a dirty job as handling a drug selling herself. She would hire some man to do the deal.

Alexander shook his head at the absurdity, angry at the detectives for not seeing through such an obvious detail. He decided that if he wanted to help Sophia he had to start with Cassie.

Mechanically, Alexander dialed his assistant, Laura, the sound of typing on the other end indicating her readiness.

“Laura, I have a task for you,”

formalities, his focus solely on

Mr. Stone. How can

want you to do some research on the Sophia case. I want to know everything about the deceased and his girlfriend, Cassie-anything that can serve me,” Alexander ordered,

his own hands. He retraced Sophia’s steps, revisiting locations from the day before and the day of the incident. He hoped to discover any

if the city had swallowed the breadcrumbs of intrigue, leaving behind a frustrating void. Even the surveillance footage, typically a reliable source of information, revealed nothing more than

the face of these enigmatic dead ends, Alexander grappled with the realization that the answers he sought

was met with the glaring reality of Sophia’s predicament. The murder case, now a sensational spectacle, had outgrown the confines of police investigations,

with a haunting aura. The news anchors, their voices a blend of speculation and conviction, narrated the tale of a well-known American lawyer suspected

the relentless hum of news cycles, demanded retribution. Calls for the swift apprehension

pressing upon him. As the

himself pacing the room, anxiety gnawing at

carried on with its relentless pace. He retraced Sophia’s steps, navigating the labyrinthine streets with an urgency that matched the fervor of

might hold the key to unraveling the enigma. The security

played, the grainy images flickered on the screen, revealing the dance of shadows and light that characterized the city’s nocturnal tableau. However, the figure in question remained elusive, a blurry specter defying easy identification. Frustration mounted as Alexander strained to

police about. In the video, he can see that he was giving something to Sophia and then leaving. The mysterious man retained his inscrutable anonymity. His features eluded the camera’s unrelenting

room exhausted, the air thick with tension. He

to eat, his phone pinged with a new email. It was from his secretary,

Case Update

Sophia Johnson

Dear Mr. Stone,

I’ve conducted further research into the Sophia