All Chapters of The Professor, My Mate: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Marco's POV I'm still finding it very hard to come to the realization that Ariana is somewhere and I don't even have an idea where she is. Could it be that she's trying to pull a prank on me? I kept asking myself a series of questions facing from one end to the other. Whom can I even talk to? Who will believe that I had nothing to do with her missing? I felt the small balls of sweat gathering on my forehead. Every single beep from my phone made my heart skip a beat, hoping that I'd get notified by her abductors or something. I scrolled through my phone aimlessly, waiting for someone to even call in with meaningful information on her whereabouts. Beep! Oh my! It was just another notification from the bank. I sighed in irritation, taking another look at the screen as it stood still again. For how long? I asked myself in frustration. What's happening to my Ariana? How's she even feeling where she is? Is she even safe? I kept asking myself these questions, thinking of

Marco's POV I sat in my room, on my chair and waited for a more important call. From Joe. I had known that it was Mason who was behind this but I also needed to put a stop to this. Ellen's feet shuffled towards me. “Babe…” I barely looked up from my phone. “Are you still angry at me?” She whispered. “I'm so sorry…I know how this feels and I know how angry you are but then you should also consider the fact that I'm a mother too. I love my daughter so much and she's all I've got so it's normal for me to react the way I did” She pleaded. I knew all these were flimsy excuses and I wasn't going to buy any. This is just her own manipulative way of trying to make me calm down and forget that she was once reasonable and unwilling to see my efforts. “Ellen, please just let me be and do my thing. You do this every single time and this time, please let me be” I kept pacing from one end to another, waiting for Joe to call back…maybe was even going to come up with a clue or somethi

Ariana's POV Marco looked very uncomfortable speaking to me and I didn't know if it was due to the fact that he felt a little bit weird having anything to do with me because of my mother or the fact that I was bringing disaster into his sphere. I didn't think that I'd blamed him for anything that he had done but at the same time I didn't want to be kept out of the loop. I needed to know what I was fighting against and how I could also protect myself in the long run instead of just leaving everything to chance and hoping that things would be done the right way. It didn't always work that way and we knew that. The only problem right now was the fact that he didn't want to have anything to do with handling this. He probably wanted to do everything on his own and that wasn't a bad idea but at the same time I could see how fast this was going to lead into a disaster and I didn't want to be a part of it. If I could just be able to get myself out of this mess I would be forever g

Ariana's Pov * One week later* I didn’t want anything more than to go to my room and rest. A lot had happened, and with the constant threats to my life, whether I liked it or not, Marco was right. I had to remain closer to the house so if anything bad happened, I’d be within close range of help. I wasn’t a weakling, but the enemies we dealt with weren’t pushovers. They were merciless. It was better not to act carelessly. But I couldn’t stand the fact that it would keep me in their sights longer, and watching my stepfather and mother show love to each other was something I dreaded. I entered my room and plopped onto my bed. For some reason, it felt like the more I slept, the more I got tired—or maybe it was just the weight of everything pressing down on me at the moment. I shut my eyes, hoping I’d drift off into sleep and wake up to find things somehow better, but a set of knocks on my door drew me from my unbothered state. “Who is it?” I asked, even though my mind was a

Ariana POV Coming back the next day wasn’t the most uncomfortable part of all this. As the days passed, I couldn’t seem to shake my mother’s suspicion. She had given me two tasks, and I hadn’t done even one of them. I couldn’t fully blame myself; Marco was the one who made handling her task nearly impossible. I assured her that I had everything under control, though I wasn’t specific about how much I actually managed to do. Most importantly, I couldn’t tell her what I’d done with the letter—that would have sent her over the edge. Or maybe she’d simply lose faith in my ability to handle things, and that would ruin whatever chance I had of staying close to Marco. Now, I wasn’t sure if I had a good relationship with either of them anymore. I hated how things were. I’d been feeling a trace of guilt ever since I overheard my mother talking on the phone to someone whose voice I didn’t recognize. I knew her deeper intentions; that was what made me feel sick every time I carried