Otto sat waiting by the windows, every so often looking out for any sign of the Veyron's headlights. He starts to fidget, dying with curiosity. She'll be arriving soon, the girl Dante often talked about with such love in his voice.
Otto had seen him play with a menagerie of girls, all of them goddesses cut straight from heaven's marble. But he never spoke of any of them as he did her. Otto had to see her.
At last, a flash of headlights and the hum of engines shutting off. Otto stops his fidgeting and makes his way to the door. He pulls open the mahogany double doors and stands to one side to welcome the master and his beloved guest.
In the distant courtyard, he sees Dante opening the Veyron's passenger door. Otto's heart leaped.
He glances at the white lilies in crystal vases he's dotted around the hall. Does the lady like lilies? Would she be pleased? Is it a bit much? He worries. But too late for that, she's already here.
Otto turns his attention back to the courtyard. The lady had gotten out of the car and is now walking towards the house with Dante. The moonlight was bouncing off their silver hair, making quite a sight. Otto straightens himself up.
"Good evening, sir. And madam." he greeted when they arrived at the door. Otto finally sees her face.
Oh, she's beautiful. She could turn the world on its head with that beauty. Kingdoms were destroyed by much less.
"Otto, this is Iris." says Dante.
"Madam Iris, may I say that you look lovely this evening?" said Otto. He just had to.
"You may, but I won't believe it. No one looks lovely after prison."
"Evidently, madam, you do."
Iris smiles. That smile alone would bring Gods to their knees.
"You have your butler do your flirting for you nowadays?" she said, turning to Dante.
"Maybe I should. He does it so much better."
"May I offer you some refreshments? You must be parched." Otto deflects.
"I think some champagne, Otto." said Dante.
"Ooh champagne. Does it come with caviar?" chirps the girl.
"Sure, if you like." shrugs Dante. She laughs.
"Stop showing off. You look stupid." said Iris, walking into the house. She notes the exuberant display of lilies and rolls her eyes at Dante.
"I bet the funeral was nice." she quips. Otto swallows hard and panics. Maybe the flowers were not to her taste after all.
"Forgive me, sir." he whispers, "perhaps I shouldn't have done the lilies."
Dante smiles. "No, you did good. She loves them."
"But she said--"
"That's just how she is." said Dante, tapping Otto on the shoulder, "you'll learn that quickly."
Otto smiles, relieved.
"I'll prepare the champagne." he said, closing the double doors and then pulling away to the kitchen.
Dante walks down to the seating room at the end of the hall. He knows she will join him later, right now she's still enjoying the lilies. There are no flowers in prison.
He sits down on the sofa and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He lights one.
"You still smoke." she said, sitting on the sofa's arm next to him.
"It won't kill me," he said, "why quit?"
Iris takes the cigarette from his hand and takes a drag.
"It's awful." she said, blowing out a cloud of smoke, "but there wasn't much to do behind those bars."
Dante lights a new one. He reaches for the crystal ashtray sitting on the coffee table.
"That is the gaudiest ashtray I've ever seen." said Iris as Dante set it down on his lap. She flicks her ashes onto it.
"Tell me," she began, taking another drag, "how illegal did you have to go to get this rich?"
Dante scoffs and doesn't answer. He leans back on the sofa, loosening his guard, relaxing. Iris looks down at him from where she sat, at his long hair, like silver silk draped all around him. Something occurs to her.
"You say they don't ask questions now. Do they fear you?"
"Somebody told me once that I was worse than the devil."
He looks up at her and she sees the face she knew too well. But that face was no longer the face of a meek librarian, hidden under a baseball cap. That face is harder now, grittier. A work of art framed in sterling.
"Maybe you thought I didn't hear you. But I did." he said, his voice low, "I miss you too."
Iris takes a drag of her cigarette and blows the smoke at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The sound of footsteps softly interrupts them. In comes the British butler, bearing caviar and champagne on ice.
"Thanks, Otto."
"My pleasure, sir. Shall I pour a glass for you and madam?"
"No, I got it."
With that Otto retreats, knowing they would have no need for him for the rest of the night.
"I love that he calls me madam." Iris gets up from her seat, grabs the champagne bottle, and takes a hearty swig.
"Those silly glasses are a waste of time." she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She hands the bottle to Dante, then dips a slender finger into the mound of caviar. She licks it off.
"Disgusting." says Iris, making a face. She turns to Dante and let their eyes lock for a while. He catches a glint in hers.
Iris pushes the crystal ashtray off his lap, letting it crash to pieces on the marble floor in a mess of ashes.
"You'll get another one." she said, sitting herself on his lap and pulling him into a kiss. A long, wet blur of lips and tongues.
"Better than caviar." she whispers in his ear, licking it like she did her finger.
She knows that drives him wild. Iris knew all of Dante's bells and how to ring them. It wasn't long before she found herself in his bedroom, tangled in his sheets.
Bells ringing.
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