My Dark Scientist

39 | A new arrangement?

E L L O R A

"I. Am. Not. Married." I say with clenched teeth, trying to drive the point home.

The lady gives Professor Langdon a confused look, before quickly turning back towards me picking herself up. "Sorry ma'am. Mr. langdon said he was your guardian so we assumed..."

I still completely. A memory from many nights ago erupts in my mind.

Night time.

Dark alley.

Drunkards.

And a man observing it all from a distance.

My house.

The porch.

Thirty two beats per nineteen seconds.

"Um, earliar you said you are my guardian. Did you mean my teacher? Or was it only to save me from the drunk frea - um, drunkards?"

A small smile lights up his face. "There are so many questions that you could've asked. Instead you chose the one, answering which would be a direct answer to all other questions. Impressive."

That night he hadn't answered my question properly. And today after weeks, there is that word again- guardian.

With all that has happened since then, how is that connected? How is he my guardian?

And then it dawns on me.

Now that I am living with him for God knows how long, he is my local guardian. My parents think I am gone for a research with my professor, handling all my responsibilities to said professor. Until I return back home, he will be signing in all places which requires my guardian's signature.

Damn. Brilliant actually, to think that all of this was planned right from the beginning. That night when he saved me from the drunkards, a.k.a Vittorio's men, he knew he was going to kidnap me eventually. All the times I attended his lectures in MU after that, he was very well aware of the fact that he would be completely ruining my life, spinning it off its axis right after. Goodness, even the time he asked me if I'd be willing to work as his assistant and called me home to work, he knew that eventually he would be trapping me in the same home against my wish.

He knew everything all along. Of course since it was this one big brilliant plan he has been conjecturing for God knows how long.

In the cliff in the forest, something huge is going on that much is clear. Something headed by Vittorio. Something of which Prof. Langdon is a part of.

And somehow they know papa. Some kind of notes they said they want.

My father had a government desk job before cancer hit him. What notes can a wrinkly, old, Itallian man, running an underground gang, litrally, want from my father? His job description papers? But he doesn't work there anymore. Data entry sheets he filled in for the think-tank he worked in? The point remains- he doesn't work there anymore.

~

The cars honk and crowds of people chatter as we drive by the town square. My eyes are fixed outside the window. This is the first time I've come out in public in what feels like weeks. Since the airport..... shit, I didn't want to think about the airport.

My eyes wanders back inside the car and slowly falls on the driver. His eyes are focused on the road, one muscular arm on the steering, the other on the gear. His muscles bulge as he pulls the gear and swerves the car past a slow vehicle.

My eyes wander up towards his firm set of jaw, and up, towards a sinful pair of lips.

Shit I definately shouldn't have thought about the airport.