Dante Club Book Novels & Stories

It simply stared at me with eyes that were blacker than the deepest trench in the Lagos harbor. "I went to the bottom of the well, Zora," Dante said. His voice wasn't just coming from his throat; it was vibrating through the floorboards, through the marrow of my teeth. "I went to where the Council throws the things they can't kill. And I found the man who started the fire."

Nero answered; he was in for a good show with his little missy. * Dante had spent the entire ride explaining things to Lena and letting her know the steps to follow, and honestly, Lena was desperate to get the suitcase; she wanted to know what it was that was worth her parents lives. “What if I get killed?” Lena asked once the car was parked in front of the club, and Dante shrugged his shoulder. “With you dead, I won’t have someone to drive around, and I will use my time for better activities. So do me a favour and don't come back alive," Dante blurted, and Lena chuckled before she leant closer to him in the driver's seat.

Chapter 77. Author's Pov. Dante sat on the couch in his room and his eyes pierced through the sky in a bid to find solace. A knock came in on his door and he replied curtly. "Come in. " Dan walked in and he bowed "My lord. I have a few men from the D and A clan. You might want me to use them to lure Alcantara into your doom." The room went silent for a while as Dante allowed the words to consume him, his eyes rippled into the stars and he let out a whisper at the time he found it convenient.

Chapter 13: Dante’s Protectiveness The night air was thick with anticipation as Isla moved through the club. Inferno was alive, pulsing with energy, the scent of alcohol and perfume wafting through the air, mixed with the low hum of music and the chatter of wealthy patrons. It was a typical night, the kind that Isla had grown used to since she’d started working here as Bella Caruso. But tonight felt different. There was an edge to the atmosphere, a tension that crawled under her skin.

“This is why he runs this place. I don’t know about you two but I need a drink to celebrate this. Let me send for Sophie.” “Ahhh ahhh, I have a counter offer,” Dante raise his hand to stop him. “Work is done. I know a new club opening tonight and the owner invited me to check it out for marketing. It’s a real mixed crowd. Straights, gays, everything in between.” He then turned to me, "No offense Alex but you have been acting like shit lately ever since you got back from your vacation, you need this my man. I don’t even know if you live here these days, always the first to come in and last to leave.”

Chapter 15: The Glass Ceiling of Blood ​The Council’s inner sanctum smelled of stale cigars and ancient, rotting power. Twelve men sat around a table made of black marble, their faces etched with the kind of arrogance that only comes from decades of getting away with murder. ​Dante walked in first. He didn't speak, but the air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. He didn't take his seat at the head of the table. Instead, he pulled the chair out and stood behind it, his gloved hands resting on the leather back like a guardian.

The name on the page wouldn’t stay still. It shifted, swimming around in red ink that bubbled up like blood from a fresh cut. June’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and the covers of the wooden book clicked together like bones. “Dante,” June managed, voice barely there. “Look. Look at the last line.” Dante leaned in, holding his breath. He reached for the wood but jerked his hand back, like the book had scalded him. “That can’t be. He was right here with us. We saw him. He fought beside us.”

The minute Maya and Zane walked into The Dante Club’s polished marble floors, the energy shifted. It wasn’t only the wealth and power filling the room — it was something more sinister. Around her, men in tailored suits and women dripping in diamonds reclined in leather chairs, red wine and whiskey and champagne in hand, as if they didn’t belong to one of the most dangerous organizations in the world. It was structured anarchy, a performance of decorum shielding the vengeful beasts underneath.

I wasn’t undesirable or unlovable. Cristo wanted me, and that was obvious. What mattered more was that I saw that I was good enough for myself, and I needn’t be anything else. It was time for Cristo to know the truth. The diner was definitely a high-end place. Italian, open-roof and canopies of trees with its branches hanging low. Vines and flowers dangled over our heads, moving softly in the breeze as the cool smell of flora surrounded us. The lamps were warm and dim, reminding me of the night Cristo saved me from Rio back in Rome and taking me to the fountain of wishes.

“Daddy, you’re laughing. Admit it.” “I am… not… laughing,” he grumbled, though a corner of his mouth twitched. Nyra nudged him. “Yes, you are. And you enjoy it.” He glared. “…I do not.” As night fell, the three trudged back to the lodge, snow dripping from their coats. The fireplace glowed warmly. Noelle curled up with cocoa and blankets, still chattering about the day’s “heroics.” Sebastian glanced at Nyra, noticing the way the firelight caught her eyes. Dangerous, intelligent, annoyingly attractive.