Chapter Master Dante Novels & Stories

Dante entered his Club through a private entrance and instantly scantily servants appeared, ‘Qual è il tuo desiderio, Maestro?’ [What is you desire Master?] They all knelt before him submissively and for some reason it only fuelled the anger already burning inside him, ‘Torna nella tua fottuta cella, sceglierò le donne che voglio’ [Get back to your fucking cell, I will chose the women I want.]

Torn tapestries hung from the arched walls and I wondered just how much we would have to drain our coffers to begin repairing the damage. “Look and see, All of you!” Dante’s terrifying bellow came when he slammed to a stop at the center of the staircase, holding up the pulp of Kefas’ bloody head to the crowd who scrambled even further away. He was displaying the damned thing like it was a trophy! For a maverick like myself, even I had to respect his dedication to hating. It was no wonder Dante was so slow to anger…his rage was devastating. The kind that wiped out entire packs and then some.

Dante smiled at Mj and offered her his arm. She lightly slid under his elbow and clasped his forearm with both hands “lead the way prince charming” Mj chirped as he led her out of the dining area and through another maze of hallways “Prince charming?” Dante said quizzically and almost defensively “first I’m a chupacapra Now im prince fucking charming?” he said in a sarcastic tone that made Mj laugh a little

Almost as if Vittoria Romano’s spirit had followed her here, bearing silent witness. You asked for this, she reminded herself. The truth. All of it. No more shadows. No more illusions. Her heart pounded as she pushed open the ancient doors. The chapel was smaller than she remembered. Stone arches curved overhead like ribcages. Tall, narrow windows let in slivers of moonlight that cut across the dusty air. The scent of incense and old wood clung to the space like forgotten prayers. And there he was. Dante. He stood at the altar, alone. No guards. No weapons. Just a man stripped of his armor.

Our first dinner date played in my head, and understanding my expression, Dante smirked before wrapping his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his chest as he kissed my temple. “I want the entire show, neonata. Make him fall head over heels for you, make him run after you, want you, beg for you, make him jealous if needed…” he smirked “I want him to see me as the challenge of his life, and I want to be the enemy that he dies to kill. When you know that you’ve had him wrapped around that beautiful finger of yours, he would be the one to lead you to Giovanni, and that would lead us to the man”

"Dante's framework. The bet. Make him fall, prove you can walk away, prove you're not becoming mommy dearest. It's delicious, Blake. The new girl, the damaged girl, playing the golden boy for sport." "It's not—" Avery stopped. The defense rising automatically, the calculation of response, the question of whether explanation was strategy or honesty. "Not what?" Chelsea leaned against the lockers, comfortable, victorious. "Not true? Dante sent me the outline himself. The five acts. The collapse. The public claim in the hallway—Phase Two, making him work. The coffee, the lake, the negotiation. All of it. Documented. Architected." She paused, savoring. "You're his masterpiece, Blake. And now eve

"Also Dante's card has a limit I intend to test today. He should have thought about that before proposing to someone with excellent taste." AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS PARTICULAR CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO EVERYONE WHO AS EVER FELT INSECURE AT ANY POINT IN THEIR LIFE, I NEED YOU TO KNOW YOU ARE PERFECT JUST THE WAY YOU ARE. WREN.

He read it slowly, at the pace the prose demanded, and when he finished he sat with it for a moment before going to find Elian. "The first chapter," he said, in the garden. "What does it need?" Elian said. He was at the south bed — the spring work, the preparation for the third year of garlic, which would go in in November and produce in June and be, if the pattern held, the best yet. "Nothing," Dante said. "It's complete." "Complete meaning—" "Complete meaning it's the truest first chapter of the four," Dante said. "It holds the whole novel in it. The whole question."

Father says they are on a business trip and they come back soon to plan our wedding. I was better, taking vitamins and try to eat. How will they help when your soul is broken? I was going home a little bit later than usual cause I had a lot of works but I notice something weird. Dante was in the street talking with his phone but someone was behind him. So close. They didn't notice me I think Dante feels his presence cause he was about turn about but the guy suddenly smashes something against his head. I wanted to gasp but stopped myself. Then a van comes someone opens the door and helps the other man to take Dante in.

Althea replied. “He is not just my enemy,” Dante said. “He is chaos.” Althea frowned. “What do you mean?” “He doesn’t want power,” Dante explained. “He doesn’t want money. He doesn’t want territory.” “Then what does he want?” Dante’s voice lowered. “He wants to watch everything burn.” Althea felt a chill run down her spine. “He is using you,” Dante continued. “Maybe,” Althea said quietly. “But that doesn’t change what you did.”