Chapter 188 CLOCKWORK.
\~~~ALESSIA.
I yawned lazily as I stepped down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The morning sunlight streamed softly through the windows, and for a moment, everything felt quiet and ordinary. But then, I heard a faint sizzling sound coming from the kitchen. I turned my head, curiosity mixing with the lingering haze of sleep.
Viktor was there, standing over the stove, a pan in his hand, the smell of something delicious filling the air. A grin spread across my face.
“What are you preparing so early, chef?” I chuckled, leaning against the doorframe and crossing my arms over my chest. I watched him with amusement, loving how domestic he could be when he wanted to.
He glanced over his shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You didn't eat properly yesterday,” he said, lifting the pan to show me the golden scrambled eggs mixed with bits of bacon and herbs.
“I wanted you to have something better this morning,” His voice was warm, that deep rumble that always made me feel safe.
“Well, whatever,’' I replied with a playful shrug, though I appreciated it more than I let on. I pushed off the door and stepped closer, but my mind shifted to the real question nagging at me.
“How is everything back at Luciano's?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.
It had been almost two weeks since the chaos, and I'd only spoken to Raina once on the phone, a quick call in which her voice sounded distant and fragile. I figured they needed their space to heal, so I hadn't pushed. But that didn't stop the worry from gnawing at me.
Viktor set the pan down and turned to face me fully, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “I think they are getting better,” he said, nodding slowly. “I saw the Donna two days ago.”
“And that is the first time in two weeks?” I raised an eyebrow, surprise mixing with concern. Raina had always been the vibrant one, the heart of our twisted family, in fact. The thought of her hiding away twisted something in my chest.
“Well, yeah,” he nodded his head again, his expression turning thoughtful. “She hasn't been stepping out, or... hanging around. It really took a toll on her. She looks so different.”
“How so?” I pressed, stepping fully into the kitchen now, the smell of the food growing stronger. I leaned against the counter, watching his face for clues.
“I'm not sure,” Viktor admitted, turning back to the stove to flip the eggs one last time. “There's just something different. I know her to be... loud and... chatty... and jovial, you know? But she looked the exact opposite. She only waved her hand to acknowledge my greetings.” He paused, scraping the food onto plates. “It was like she was there, but not really. Hollow, almost.”
“Oh, my poor Raina,” I said softly, palming my mouth with one hand. My heart ached for her. Losing the baby, and the trauma of it all was really too much for anyone.
Raina had been like a sister to me, full of life and laughter, and now... I could picture her, withdrawn and broken. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them back.
“But regardless, I think she is good,” Viktor added quickly, trying to lighten the mood. He carried the plates to the table and set them down. “I saw she was cool with the boss. They were together, talking quietly.”
“I guess pain shapes you differently,’' I murmured, more to myself than to him. It was true. I'd seen it in Luciano, his eyes became harder, and his grip on things became even tighter. And Raina... God, I wished I could hug her, and tell her it would get better.
“Yeah, me too,” Viktor nodded his head, his voice carrying a hint of his own reflection. He had been through his share of losses in this life, working for Luciano all these years. He dished the food onto the table with care, the steam rising in lazy curls. “Come on, let's eat,” he called to me, pulling out a chair for me like the gentleman he was.
I walked over to the table, settling into the seat with a small sigh. The meal looked perfect. The scrambled eggs are fluffy and dotted with crispy bacon, with toast on the side and fresh orange juice in glasses. It was my favorite breakfast, the kind he'd make when he knew I needed cheering up. Food had always been his way into my heart, and a silent language of love. I picked up my fork, smiling at him across the table. “This looks amazing,” I said, leaning in to sniff it.
But the moment the aroma hit me, rich, savory, with that hint of garlic from the herbs, my stomach rebelled. It twisted violently, a wave of repulsion crashing over me. I gagged, my hand flying to my mouth.
“Are you good?” Viktor asked immediately, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. Concern etched his features.
“Yes, I am…” But the words barely left my lips before another gag hit, stronger this time. I sprang up from the chair, knocking it back with a scrape, and rushed to the sink.
My knees buckled as I leaned over, retching into the basin. The nausea was overwhelming, like my body was rejecting everything.
“Are you okay?” Viktor was right behind me in an instant, his strong hand on my back, rubbing in soothing circles. He grabbed a cloth from the counter and dampened it under the tap, gently wiping my face as I heaved. The coolness felt good against my flushed skin.
“I am…” I managed between gasps, straightening up slowly. My throat burned, and I felt shaky, but I forced a weak smile. “Just... something didn't sit right.”
'You don't like it? It is your favorite, sweetheart,” he said, his brow furrowed with worry. He guided me back toward the table, but I waved him off lightly.
“I know, I'm fine.” I returned to my seat, determined not to ruin the moment. Settling back down, I picked up the fork and scooped up a small bit of egg. Bringing it closer to my mouth, I braced myself. But the smell hit again, stronger now, and the nausea surged like a tidal wave. I dropped the fork with a clatter and bolted back to the sink, puking up what little was in my stomach.
“Baby, this is serious. Are you okay?” Viktor stood behind me now, one hand patting my hair gently, the other on my back. His touch was steady, grounding me as I dry-heaved, tears streaming down my face from the effort.
It took a while, minutes that felt like hours for the waves to subside. I rinsed my mouth, splashed water on my face, and finally turned back to look at him. His eyes were wide with concern, searching my face. “What is going on? Should we go to the hospital?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
But as I stood there, catching my breath, something else clicked in my mind. A suspicion I'd been pushing away for days. My hand trembled slightly as I lifted it, starting to count on my fingers. One, two... I did it out loud, my voice shaky.
“It’s been... over thirty days,” a hiccup escaped me, surprise mixing with the realization.
“What are you counting? What is it?” Viktor stepped closer, his confusion clear.
“It's been... over thirty days,” I repeated, my fingers still moving.
Thirty-six, actually. I'd marked the calendar in my head, but life had been so hectic with checking on Luciano and Raina that I'd ignored the signs.
“T... thirty days since what? Am I missing something?” He tilted his head, trying to follow.
“T... thirty... days since my last menstruation…” The words tumbled out, heavy with meaning.
My cycle was regular, like clockwork. Missing it by a week was unusual but over a month? That meant something.
“And what does that mean? Is there something going on?” Viktor's eyes widened as he processed it, glancing down at my body.
My hand slowly drifted to my stomach, pressing lightly against the flat plane there. It felt different, and warmer somehow. Viktor's gaze followed, locking on the spot.
“Sweetheart, you…” He trailed off, the pieces falling into place for him too.
“I think... I think I am pregnant,” I whispered, a sob tearing through my throat softly. The words hung in the air, real and terrifying and wonderful all at once.
Tears welled up again, but this time from a flood of emotions I wasn’t sure of.