Chapter 92 Is Gianna Pregnant?

Chapter 92 Is Gianna Pregnant?
Dmitry

The door flings open, revealing a thoroughly confused Candace.

“What’s going on here?” she asks, her eyes scanning the room.

I frown and wave Donny away. He glances at me, confusion settling across his features. I can tell he's worried about Candace being here, especially with everything going on with Sora, and for some reason that thought makes me smile. She's become such an important part of this family that even Donny is instinctively trying to shield her from the uglier parts of our lives.

“Candace, what brings you over?” I ask, clearing my throat as I settle back into my chair.

She looks around my office before scrunching up her nose in disgust.

“Why is your office such a mess, Dima baby?”

She perches on the edge of my desk, carefully avoiding the stale takeout containers and empty coffee cups scattered across it.

I suppress a groan at the nickname.

Gianna mentioned once that she hated Candace calling me that. Looking at it now, I can understand why. There’s something far too affectionate about it.

“I've been busy with work,” I reply with a shrug. “I've spent the last two days in here.”

It's not exactly a lie.

She studies me for a moment before climbing off the desk. Without another word, she starts gathering the dirty plates, carrying them over to the trash.

“Candace!” I bark, shooting to my feet.

My hand closes around her wrist just as she's about to pick up one of the coffee mugs.

“What are you doing?”

She looks from my hand to my face, her brows knitting together.

“You know how I feel about dirt, Dmitry,” she says matter-of-factly. “I'm cleaning up the trash.”

I glance at Donny.

He lets out a tired grunt but walks over anyway.

“Yes, Boss?” He bows his head, his eyes lingering on Candace with open suspicion, but I ignore it. The last thing on my mind right now is figuring out why my right-hand man seems incapable of liking her. I make a mental note to question him about it later.

“Get someone to clean my office,” I tell him before turning toward the hallway.

Donny doesn't question the order. He simply nods and heads in the opposite direction toward the staff wing where the cleaners are usually stationed.

Candace falls into step beside me as we walk through the house.

I glance around the place with a frown.

I never got the chance to show Gianna around.

Instead, we spent most of our time tangled in bed or arguing over the same stupid things, too busy hurting each other to learn the little details that actually mattered. She knew Tamer in ways she never knew me. She trusted him with pieces of herself that she kept hidden from me, and instead of fighting harder for her, I let my own fears convince me I'd already lost.

A gentle nudge against my arm pulls me out of the spiral.

“Goodness,” Candace mutters, studying my face. “You look like someone died. Are you going to tell me what's going on?”

The concern in her eyes makes my throat tighten.

She cleared her schedule to spend time with me, and instead of showing her around like I'd promised, I've barely spoken since she arrived. Some host I am.

“I'm just burnt out,” I say, forcing a shrug.

She watches me for a long moment before letting out a quiet hum.

“I'm not a fool, Dima.” She folds her arms across her chest. “The last time you looked like this was when you moved to Toronto and lost contact with your girlfriend. Does this have anything to do with her?”

My head snaps toward her.

I'd forgotten Candace knows me almost as well as Alec does.

“No,” I answer a little too quickly.

A knowing smile spreads across her face.

“If you say so.” Her gaze wanders around the hallway before she taps a finger thoughtfully against her chin. “I don't see that cute girl you were with the last time you visited. What was her name again?”

“Gianna.”

Her name leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

It feels heavy.

Painfully so.

I blink rapidly, willing the sting in my eyes to disappear before Candace notices.

“Yesss!” Candace claps excitedly. “Where is she? I was really hoping we'd all hang out tonight.”

That catches my full attention.

“You want to hang out with Gianna?”

Candace nods enthusiastically before unlocking her phone and shoving it into my hands.

“Take a look.” She points excitedly at the screen. “There's this bikers' hangout happening tonight at Oaks Park. It's basically a huge bonfire party, and I really want to go. I was hoping you'd take me, and since you're so close with Gianna, I figured she'd come along too.”

I lower my eyes to the poster.

How the hell did I miss this?

I haven't been riding much lately, but events like these usually make the rounds through every biker crew in the city long before they're announced publicly.

I hand the phone back to Candace.

She's practically vibrating with excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she claps her hands together like an overgrown child. I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips.

It's the first genuine one I've managed in two days.

“Fine,” I say.

Before I can react, she throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders in an overly enthusiastic hug.

“Thank you!” she squeals.

“That's enough,” I mutter, trying to sound stern, but there's no real threat behind the words.

She laughs before finally letting me go.

“Fine, killjoy.” She brushes an imaginary speck of dust off her shirt before turning toward the hallway. “I'll go tell Gianna to get ready.”

She's barely taken two steps before I catch her wrist.

She looks back at me expectantly.

“Gianna isn't home,” I say quietly. “So it'll just be the two of us.”

For a brief second, disappointment flashes across her face.

Then, just as quickly, she brightens again.

“Well... that's too bad.” She gives my shoulder a light shove. “Now go take a shower because you stink, and for the love of all things holy, shave that stubble off your face. It's disgusting.”

She punctuates the insult with exaggerated gagging noises while pushing me toward the staircase.

I let out a tired laugh. “I don’t stink that bad.”

“Seriously, Dima,” she complains, pinching her nose shut. “I don't know how Gianna tolerates you. Go shower before I pass out.”

I snort. “Still so dramatic.”

“And you're smelly.”

She gives me one final push before marching toward the living room, already humming to herself as she scrolls through her phone.

“I'll be waiting downstairs!” she yells. “Don't make me come drag you out.”

“Like you would.”

“Oh test me, I dare you.”

I shake my head, unable to stop the small smile pulling at my lips.

Candace has always had a way of filling every room she walks into.

As I reach the top of the stairs, my feet instinctively carry me past my bedroom.

They stop outside Gianna's door. I stare at the handle for several long seconds.

I really shouldn’t go in, not after everything that’s happening. I feel wrong invading her space like this. 

Still...

Before I can talk myself out of it, my hand wraps around the handle.

The door clicks open, the faint scent of her perfume still lingers in the room.

My chest tightens, nothing has changed.

Her books are still stacked neatly on the nightstand. One of her oversized hoodies is draped across the reading chair by the window. A hair tie rests on the dresser beside a bottle of perfume, as though she only stepped out for a few minutes instead of disappearing from my life.

I run my fingers over the back of the chair before forcing myself to look away.

“This is pathetic,” I mutter under my breath.

I should leave.

Instead, I wander farther inside needing to feel her presence even more because as much pain it causes me to be here, I feel soothed.

The bathroom door is slightly ajar.

I push it open, intending to splash some cold water on my face before heading back out.

As I reach for the sink, something in the trash bin catches my eye.

A small white box, my brows draw together and curiosity gets the better of me.

I crouch down and pick it up, the moment I read the words printed across the front, every muscle in my body locks.

A Pregnancy Test? How’s that even possible?

Slowly, I look back into the bin.

The test itself is lying beneath the box, I reach in with trembling fingers and pick it up.

It's clean, unused, at least I think it is. I've never bought one before. I've never even seen one up close.

For all I know, this is exactly what they're supposed to look like after someone's finished using them.

A thousand thoughts crash through my mind at once.

The nausea, the mood swings, her growing appetite… I thought she was just on her period.

Do women see periods while pregnant?

My grip tightens around the plastic stick.

“Dima!” Candace shouts from downstairs. “Are you showering or growing old up there?”

I don't answer.

I can't.

I keep staring at the object in my hand, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.

Gianna...

Is Gianna pregnant?