Novelas y relatos de Dante Club Book

--- By dawn, word arrived: three Council outposts burned in the night. But there was no triumph in the news. Because nailed to the gates of the third outpost was a message scrawled in Moretti blood: “You cannot kill what you raised.” And beside it, for the first time, a signature. A single letter, written bold and sharp: D. --- Leora touched the parchment with shaking fingers. “D?” Allerick’s face darkened like a storm. His voice was almost a growl. “Dante.” The name hung heavy, tasting of ash.

MATTEO’S POV “Come here, pretty boy” Britney, one of the call girls latched unto me the moment I stepped into Dante’s club. Her fingers curled around my arm, and before I could even process what was happening, she was dragging me deeper into the chaotic heartbeat of the club. The air was immediately thick and it swallowed me, soon enough I was flanked with the mixture of booze, cigarette smoke and loud music. I could feel the buzz roaring in my veins, threatening to engulf me in its heat and I was ready to allow it.

His brooding eyes scan Adelaide and I, and I swallow, sensing something off. “I also wanted to speak to you, Adelaide.” He adds and Adelaide glances at me, already panting. “About what?” “Christopher.” Dante says the name like he wants to stab whoever it is until they are paralyzed. “What about him?” Adelaide tries to act cool, but it's pointless, Dante knows everything. “You're dating a hippie?”

I screamed power and money but also knew how to emanate it. Dante was lounging on a large black leather couch that peered out over the club. You could see everything on the dance floor from the large glass wall, but no one could see in here. Not that I think he would remove the girl sucking his dick or the other one he had his fingers in anyway. The coffee table was lined with drugs and alcohol and every scumbag in this room was high fucking some whore. This was one of the few clubs I ran that allowed this shit. It honestly made me sick to my stomach how everyone acted but my father was right, sinners would only do business in a place of sin.

"I hate this scene. Why do you even allow this kind of filth in your club?" Dante’s gaze finally shifted from me to his brother, and his voice was hard. "Then get out of my club. I don't care about your homophobic tantrums." “It's not a tantrum. Why the hell are grown ass men dancing in female costumes? Fucking annoying!” He grumbled as he downed another glass. “I'll throw you out if you don't shut the hell up.” Dante growled defensively. I just stared at him surprised. He was actually angry on their behalf. Rocco was definitely a block head. If you don't like it then don't watch. Simple!

The air here was thinner, colder, stripped of the grit and noise of the city below. ​Dante was waiting in the library. It was a room of dark wood and leather, lined with books that looked like they hadn't been touched in a century. He wasn't alone. ​A man in a charcoal suit sat at the long conference table in the center of the room. He was older, with wire-rimmed glasses and a face that seemed carved from the same granite as the building. Beside him sat a briefcase, open and organized with terrifying precision. ​"You’re late," Dante said. He was standing by the bar, a glass of amber liquid in his hand that he hadn’t touched. He looked at his watch—7:12 PM. The ice in the bucket nearby had me

Our lips were almost touching. If I moved a little we will end up kissing. He brushed his lips on mine as my breath becomes heavier. I closed my eyes as his harsh breath kept on hitting my lips. But what he said next snapped my eyes open in shock. Damon: Be ready for the party. Your going to be introduce as a wife of Mafia king. Luciana Knight. Confusing her was his satisfaction. Satisfying himself was his habit. _______________________________________

Sleeping shouldn’t have been difficult, but having that sleep on your Dante De Luca’s bed, dressed in his shirt and smelling like him, sure wouldn’t make any sleep come. Even when my body was tired, I just lay there, staring and allowing different thoughts to run through my small brain. I decided not to force it and slid out of his bed, wandering in his room and checking out every furniture and interior. Dante did like black a lot. I could tell from his room because the only thing that was another color was his closet, which only had one white shirt, which I have on right now. “What a weird color to pick as a favorite. I mean, black is termed as some demonic creature, or maybe I forget too q

A holographic map floated above the table, showing strange dark energy signatures moving toward their sanctuary from the north. “They call themselves the Eclipse Council,” Damien said, voice cold. “Ancient beings who survived the Lunar Rage by going into deep hibernation. Fallen angels, elder vampires, corrupted witches… they believe the world should be reset under their rule.” Serena’s hands trembled slightly. “And they want Liora. Her power is the key to their new apocalypse.” Kael slammed his fist on the table, cracking the wood. “They won’t touch her.” Damien placed a calming hand on Kael’s shoulder. “We need to strengthen our defenses. And we need allies. Old friends who survived.”

And the headline even more so: "Dante Confesses: Why He's Still Single." I suddenly feel like I'm going to vomit right here in the middle of the store. I shouldn't read it. I know I shouldn't. And yet my hand is reaching out, grabbing the issue from the rack. Flipping through the pages until I find the cover story. My heart is in my ears as my eyes skim over the words. Most of his answers are typical PR fluff - comments about Cataclysm: Earth and general good will towards his family - but then I get to the meat of the interview.