Novel & Cerita Dante 101 Dalmatian Street

She looks like she has a lot she wants to pout out to me, and I prepare myself to listen, no matter how long I feel this conversation might last. She tucks her hair behind her ear as she begins speaking, “Dante and I have been friends since the day his family moved away from Tuscany and started living right across our street. The first time we met, he saved me from some bullies that were threatening to make my sophomore year in high school very miserable.”

Dante’s portrait was out in the great room where traditionally the Alpha’s family portrait would be. I noticed a door was cracked at the end of the corridor and I grew curious. I could smell the most subtle hints of driftwood, smoke, and saltwater. Why was I smelling the beach? It smelled refreshing and devine! As I got closer, I pushed open the door to find my mate, Callen, crouched over a desk with his laptop, deep in thought with papers spread all over his desk. It looked like he outfitted this old forgotten room as his office while here. I noticed many books and photos of him and…Dante, and an older fellow…the man from outside in the hallway, he must be Dante’s father! Dante’s family rea

I had lost hope thinking of of those voluptuous American ladies I saw when we went for a vacation last summer, not that they are a match for my elegance though. I spotted Dante in a corner sipping wine looking from his phone to the crowd repeatedly with a worried expression as if though he was expecting someone. was it Anna? no, I don't think so. emiliano bernade hardly likes just anyone, especially an orphan like Anna who have nothing to offer and she would leave Dante if she knows he is a mafia lord's heir or should I tell her ? so she can be gone? I thought sipping my wine.

I know how the job cycle worked and I knew it took a lot of hard work to get promoted. “I really don't mind staying secretary,” I humbly suggested. “Nonsense, the wife of the CEO, A secretary? Of course not darling” “You like the flowers huh?” Even though that was a rhetorical question, I decided to respond. “Yes I do”. “You see those white ones over there” Dante said pointing at the direction he wanted me to pay attention to. “Yeah?” “They're lilies, they're so beautiful, the most beautiful in this garden in my opinion” he said

FLORA I stared at the dead rat in the box with its stiff body surrounded by blood-soaked newspapers. My stomach churned, but I forced myself not to look away. In the little time since I'd worked for Dante Romano, I'd seen a lot but this was the height of it. Dante had come into my room. Now, he slammed the lid back on the box and pushed it away. His jaw tightened, and a muscle pulsed at his temple. "It's what I feared," he said. His voice was deadly calm. It was the kind of calm that preceded violence. "We have a rat."

Morning Dante’s day always began early. By 5:30 AM, he was already up, the early morning light just beginning to break through the curtains. He never needed an alarm—his mind always woke him up before the rest of the world. He would start with a quick workout in the gym, pushing himself through a series of intense exercises, the familiar rhythm of lifting weights grounding him. It was his time alone, where he could clear his thoughts and prepare for the day ahead.

“A monster who always gets what he wants.” And then, as unexpectedly as he had come, he left. The heavy door shut with a thud that rattled her chest. Valentina sat frozen, staring at the brush on the floor, her fingers trembling against her lap. On his way to Dominic’s office, Dante first made a stop at one of his drug houses—disguised, as always, as a fish processing company. The smell of fish filled the air and clung to the wall, mixed with the metallic scent of blood from the chopping tables.

Knew the way his jaw clenched when he wanted to ask a question but didn’t know how. “He’s getting paranoid,” Dante said quietly. “That’s good.” He moved to the back of the room where another display projected a map of the city, with blinking red markers. “Soon,” he murmured. “They’ll see him. And they’ll come looking.” Later – Penthouse Balcony The air was sharp with salt and silence. Dante stood barefoot on the cold stone, his shirt sleeves rolled up, smoke curling from the cigar between his fingers. He didn’t smoke often, but tonight the burn in his throat felt earned.

Which was something he was more than capable of. We arrived at the heavily guarded gates, and Dante scanned his finger onto the scanner before the gates slid open. Surprise clung onto my tongue as we slipped through and drove down a five-kilometre driveway that was lined with fire lanterns. In all my 22 years on planet Earth, I would have never guessed that Dante was a member of the Citadel. He must have felt my gaze on him because he let out a murmured "Don't ask." before speeding down the smooth driveway.