Iris’s POV
The sun was a large golden sphere out there, and was changing the Mediterranean to light shining jewels. We were very far off in the city, out of the centre of haze, bloodshed and that creepy hall around the Moretti house. Nico had brought me out on his own yacht. It was made of smooth white and was always known as The Siren.
“Let's go have some fresh air,” I said to him, staring at him like I was his pet. I knew what our departure would mean—Nico wanted me to himself, without the presence of the other Dons and any other peeking eyes… otherwise anybody would have known what he had been doing with me.
The sea air had the aroma of joy and that kind of mind-blowing freedom. I stood on the railing of the top deck, and the wind was blowing my hair. I was wearing a bikini of tiny
