Dante Club Book Novels & Stories

He might kick me out and I would just die. “This is amazing,” I managed to whisper, still breathless at the sight. “You like it?” “Like it?” My amazement hung in my voice, and I spun on my heels to face Dante, who was leaning at the door. “Are you kidding me? I am in love with it. It’s like heaven on earth.” The corner of Dante’s lips twitched. “The best part is that more than half of the books are horror, thriller and paranormal.” “No fricken way!” My jaw dropped, and I held back the girlie squeal that hung in my throat. And I thought this place couldn’t get any better.

] 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. In keeping with the Gothic theme of the club the women who did not have a current Master ‘owning’ them sat in a ‘cell’ waiting to be chosen for a night of debauchery. If any remained in the cell at the end of the night they would become the finale entertainment, this was simply a show where the women were chained naked to a wall and whipped until they orgasmed in front of all the watching men. Dante strode to his office and the two men who ran the club en

Marco was beaming and looked much like Luca, only with harder features. "I am glad you two are together now. " Marco said, and Randy smiled at me. They were both wearing white T-shirts and blue jeans. The T-shirts had 'Motzaretti Clan forever' printed on them, and I wanted to rip them off them. I smiled at them, and they went back to stand. I managed to size up the people present and realised that the only people with arms were the ones outside. If we were wise, there wouldn't be bloodshed tonight. Johannes believed his niece because he did not secure this gentle approach. I also think my altercation with Luca helped solidify the matter.

Liana POV It’s been almost three hours since the guy in the black leather jacket told me he will give me a job. He goes by the name Dante, and I know he runs this club, but I have a suspicion he’s in charge of a lot more than that. He’s scary as hell, but the alternative is even worse. That’s what keeps me glued to the chair I’ve been seating on for the last week, hoping and praying nobody will find me here. The first few times I asked for a job, he just laughed in my face but tonight, for reasons I’m not entirely sure of, he finally took pity on me. I could be thinking of the many ways this could go wrong, but right now, I’m very happy. As risky as this place might be, it’s the one place I

I was a Vane property. I found Dante in the conservatory, a massive glass structure filled with black roses and twisted, silver-leafed trees. He was standing with his back to me, staring out at the churning gray ocean. He had traded his suit jacket for a silk shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle. "You're late," he said without turning. "I was busy contemplating my life choices," I retorted, walking toward him but keeping a safe five-foot distance. "Tell me about this Council. My father mentioned factions, but he never said they were… like you."

Jace said a small chuckle escaping his mouth. “Well there’s Luna if you want to do more of a club vibe, there’s Temple which is still more club then bar, Seven which is bar, and if you want a hole in the wall the Crow’s nest…or do we want a bar with a show?” Dante said, wiggling his eyebrows at the last comment. “Dante, you are becoming as annoying as everyone else.” Jace growled as his car revived to life. “No, let's just go to Seven.” Dante smiled.

Dante adjusted his suit jacket as he stepped out of the vehicle, inhaling deeply in a futile attempt to steady himself. The night was thick with the scent of rain on pavement, but the air felt heavy—oppressive. Rafael Gambino had set up this meeting, calling it a negotiation over his grandmother’s release and the so-called deal. But Dante knew better. This wasn’t a discussion; it was a power play. The club loomed before him, pulsating with deep bass, the neon glow painting shadows along the brick walls. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and sweat, the scent of expensive liquor mixing with cheap perfume.

Dante wasn't just any man – he was the heir to a mafia empire, the leader of a motorcycle club, and apparently, intensely possessive of things he considered his. The rational part of my brain screamed at me to back down, to stop this dangerous game before it went too far. But another part – the part that had been awakened by finding that lingerie in his apartment, by imagining him with other women – wanted to push him further. To see just how far I could go before he snapped. "Maybe I'll find out tonight," I said, ducking under his arm to free myself from his cage. "I'm sure one of your club brothers would be happy to show me a good time. That guy with the curly hair seems promising."

Suffocating. Like Death itself had clawed its way through reality and decided to attend the party. And then— BAM! The entrance door slammed open with such brutal force, it snapped off one of its hinges and smashed against the marble wall, leaving a gaping crack. And there he was. Dante. A shadow in human form. Storming in like the embodiment of wrath. Dressed in all black—head to toe—his long coat billowing like wings of a fallen angel. His hands dripped blood.

I lied. He arched a brow. “Ella. I manage this club. I know when a girl’s got a man in her head.” I stiffened. “No one’s in my head,” I snapped too quickly. “Oh?” Dante smirked. “So you won't ask where he is?” “Is he here tonight?” I asked before I could stop myself. Dante’s grin widened. “Aha.” “No, Dante...” “So there is a man,” he teased. “I knew it. You like the mysterious types, yeah? The one with money and a guilty conscience? Those ones are your weakness. What really happened last night?”