Monarchy

Four

Two weeks had past in a blur and fucking shit loads has happened in that time.

For a start Lyra wanted the world to know who our son was. That very day that I had told her about the Italian's she had brought Reagan out in public to met her parents.

The paparazzi were all over that shit and I watched on the news as they tried to catch any glimpse of our son. Frankly I couldn't get over the mayhem that one picture of Reagan could mean to them. Lyra had went on talking to her parents like the paparazzi weren't even there but she was well skilled in ignoring them.

When they had called out questions to her she had point blank ignored them all, but I could see the hint of a smile on her lips. She knew what she was doing and she was starting to put her own plan into motion.

When we both got home she told me that she wanted them to know what our son looked like. She wanted his picture on every cover and everyone's internet search.

After all if the world knew what he looked like it was would make it that much harder for someone else to keep him under the radar if they got him.

It also made it that much harder for someone to get to him if the whole world had their eyes on him.

She was aiming to make the Italian's think smarter.

Lyra wanted them to think smarter.

By making them think harder she wanted them to think like her, she wanted them to form a plan that she would come up with herself. By making them think like her Lyra would have all the cards in her hand to play well before they even knew what was going on. 

Snapping out of my thoughts I looked down at my phone that was buzzing on my desk in front of me. It was from a withheld number, something that made me frown. Setting down the papers that were in my hand I leaned forward on the table and grabbed my phone staring at it for a moment. 

Then I answered. 

 At first there was silence before the voice on the other side spoke. 

"Riker Kennedy." 

The accent was a deep Italian and I leaned back in my seat getting more comfortable. This conversation could only go one of two ways and if I was to guess it wasn't for a pleasant conversation.

"How did you get this number?" 

The voice on the other side of the line let out a deep chuckle before speaking once more. Something about the voice and situation didn't settle well with me. Calls like these were never ones that you wanted. 

"You're wife isn't as smooth as she thinks she is." 

Now that comment really gathered my attention. Rubbing my hand down my face I let the uneasiness I felt only moment ago disappear. 

Lyra didn't do anything without a reason and what ever she was up to clearly involved me in some way and this man clearly didn't know who he was dealing with.

"Let me give you a bit of advise in this little game you're trying to play." The corner of my lips turned upwards as I started to play around with the gun that was sitting on my desk. "My wife doesn't make mistakes, if you got something from her it's because she wanted you to have it in the first place." 

"Is that right?" I could hear the smugness in his voice from here. Who ever this man was he was clearly trying to also get under my skin, while I didn't even know his name.

"Before we talk about anything else how about you tell me your name first? After all it seems like you know mine pretty well." 

"My name?" He seemed thoughtful for a moment almost like he was insulted by the question and I took a bit of pride in that. How he expected me to know who he was in the first place was beyond me anyway. "The name's Dante Giudice."