Iris’s POV
Our drive home after the gala was rather silent, although we were not so quiet as to be quiet. There was a smell of gunpowder and the aura spelt the anger Nico expressed in the car. Lorenzo Valenti had come to approach me, and even while I was brought on that balcony, by Nico, his blood was still pumping. He was an aggressive supporter of anyone or anything belonging to him and whenever he had such a mood, he had to act.
When we arrived at the mansion, he did not take me directly into my bedroom. He grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to the basement where there were the personal gym and training rooms. The atmosphere was colder, and smelled of rubber, cold steel and old sweat.
“Nico, it is late, you see,” I said, although I was not trying to argue with him. I might feel
