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,”

his focus solely on the

Mr. Stone. How can I help?” Laura

about the deceased and his girlfriend, Cassie-anything that can serve me,”

from the day before and the day of the incident. He hoped to discover any overlooked

the hotel, where Sophia had lodged, to the apartment, the stage for the unfolding drama, no suspicious traces emerged. It was as if the city had swallowed the breadcrumbs of intrigue, leaving behind a frustrating void. Even the surveillance footage, typically a reliable

enigmatic dead ends, Alexander grappled with the realization that the answers

sank into the plush sofa and instinctively reached for the remote. Clicking on the television, he was met with the glaring reality of Sophia’s predicament. The murder case, now a sensational spectacle, had outgrown

face, once distinguished in legal circles, now graced the screens with a haunting aura. The news anchors, their voices a blend of speculation and conviction, narrated the tale of a well-known

sensationalism, had already rendered their verdict. The collective sentiment, amplified by the relentless hum of news cycles, demanded retribution. Calls for the swift apprehension and punishment of the alleged perpetrator echoed through the airwaves, drowning out any nuances that might have colored the

upon him. As the images flickered

the room, anxiety gnawing at him like an incessant

carried on with its relentless pace. He

unraveling the enigma. The security cameras, silent sentinels of the urban landscape, promised a glimpse into the events

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

clarity. He can see Sophia talking with the man she informed the police about. In the video, he can see that he was giving

tension. He needed a breakthrough, a glimmer of hope in the darkness

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

Case

Sophia Johnson

Dear Mr. Stone,

this message finds you well. I’ve conducted further research into the Sophia