As Otto drove them out of Greenwood in the grey Bentley chariot of hell, Iris sat and stared at her shoes. She had worn Louboutins with her Dior. Gleaming black patent leather, pointed, with heels like javelins.

Their red bottoms were made redder, stained by the blood of grown men who wept at her feet. As promised. That was the thing with Dante--promises were always kept.

Suddenly she feels a stinging in her eyes and finds tears rolling down her cheeks. A few drops at first, and then a stream that sent her whole body shaking.

"That was awful." she said, sniffling, "so awful."

She buries her face in her hands.

"But they deserved it." she adds.

Dante turns to her and feels the prickling of a strange anger. This is the first time he'd ever seen her cry. He couldn't accept that her first tears were shed for those men, the very same men who caused her pain. He quickly looks away, fearing the anger might leak out.

"Do you have any tissues, Otto?" she asks. Otto slows down and reaches over to the glove compartment. The passing streetlights illuminate the gun lying inside just enough for Iris to catch it.

"Forgive me for not offering it sooner madam, I was watching the road." says Otto.

"It's okay." says Iris, taking the tissues from him. She bends down and wipes the blood off her shoes.

"Do you keep a baseball bat in this car, too?"

"In every car." says Dante, still refusing to look at her. Tears were still flooding her face.

"If you have a bat, why do you need a gun?" she asks.

"Bullets run out." he said simply.

Dante hears her gasp softly and he could feel her eyes on him, staring. He doesn't turn to meet them.

"Stop the car." she commands, her voice breaking.

Otto obliges and they slow to a halt. Iris opens the door, startling Dante. He quickly grabs her arm.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Away from you." she says, looking him in the eyes. She pulls her arm free of his grasp and steps out of the car.

"Iris," he calls after her, "Iris."

She slams the door in his face.

From behind the tinted windows, Dante watches his Iris disappear into the night. Leaving nothing behind but a ball of bloodied tissues.

"Sir," Otto calls gently, but Dante doesn't respond.

"Sir?" he tries again.

Dante looked lost in thought. His mind replaying memories of all the previous times he had lost her. Once when she was Farah, twice when she was Gwen.

"Sir!" shouted Otto, interrupting his thoughts.

"For goodness sake, sir!" he exclaims, "go after her!"

Dante was surprised by what the butler said.

"What?" he stammers.

"GO AFTER HER!"

And for the first time, Dante realized what he should have done all those years ago. He jumps out of the car and runs after her with everything he's got.

He finds her a little ways up the road, sitting on the sidewalk in a pool of yellow from the streetlight above her. She notices the sound of his footsteps but doesn't turn to face him.

Dante removes his jacket and drapes it around her bare shoulders. Then he sits down next to her. They sit together in silence until one by one the streetlights go out like dying stars.

"Why did you play baseball?" she asks, as the night dissipates into dawn.

"It was the only sport where I could wear a cap."

"Why did you bother playing any sport at all?"

"On one of my first highschool runs, they picked on me for wearing a baseball cap all the time. They wanted to know what I was hiding." says Dante, "so I thought if I played the sport, they wouldn't wonder anymore."

Iris looks down at his hands. They were still as beautiful as when she first saw them. "I liked these hands better when you only used them for baseball." she says sadly.

"You've become someone completely different." she adds, "someone frightening."

"Iris, you have to understand," he began, "I had to become very powerful very quickly. You were only going to be in prison for fifty years. I had to make sure that by the time you were released, I was powerful enough to make sure that nothing could touch you. So you won't have to spend another day in that place ever again."

She turns to him with an angry look on her face.

"And in return," she hisses, "I'm supposed to love you?"

"No." came the answer, immediately erasing her anger, "you can do whatever you want. And the reason I've done what I've done is to protect your freedom to do exactly that."

Her eyes go wide in disbelief at everything he has said, but he didn't stop there.

"I have assets that I can put under your name. That way you'll have the financial stability to live freely, completely independent of me if that's what you choose."

Iris frowns, needing a moment to process it all. "Why are you doing this?" she asks.

"Come on, Iris. You know why." says Dante.

Her lips stretches into a playful smile.

"Tell me anyway. Pretend I don't."

Dante scoffs and shakes his head. He pulls her hair and whispers, with his lips touching her ear. "Because I love you."

She pushes him away, laughing from how much it tickles. Dante was glad to see her laugh again.

"You know I don't love you, right? I won't. Ever." she sneers, rubbing her tingling ear.

Dante shrugs. At this point, he didn't care. All that matters is that he loves her.

Iris takes a good, long look at Dante. Her only constant in the earthly hell of everlasting life. The one she could always come back to.

She leans on his shoulder and wraps her arms around his neck. They could be on opposite ends of the world, but he will always be her Dante. And she, his Iris.

"If I'm going to live freely and independent from you, can Otto come with me?"

Dante rests his head onto hers and laughs.

"Not a chance."