Dante Devil May Cry Father Mga Nobela at Kwento

“He wanted me to say that to you.” “Ah! For years I've endured hell with him and his pet devil and this is the thanks I get?” Mother screams, making my uncle's second wife laugh. “He tosses his children aside to accommodate her evil Highness.” I don't have the mind to let her insult sting, I'm too busy wondering what is in that video, Father wanted Dante to be the Don even though tradition would have had Uncle Vito in that seat. Why me? Why did he make me his successor even knowing I would kill him?

"Hi… are you Dante's friend? He didn't tell me he was seeing someone here." The man laughed again, the sound rough but warm. "Friend? I'm more than that. I'm his father." I paled. Of course. The resemblance was obvious now that I was looking. I held onto the doorknob, wanting to kick myself for saying something so stupid. Dante stood up slowly. "Sage, this is my father, Damon." I stepped inside awkwardly, my heart pounding. "It's nice to meet you." Damon studied me with sharp eyes, the same way his son often did.

I only cared about my wife, who wasn't there. I turned to Elario, my voice a low, dangerous hiss. "Tell me everything. Now." Elario swallowed hard. "My father... he told us who did it. He thinks Dante Aldo tried to kill him." My head snapped toward Armando on the bed. "Dante? What the hell does Dante have against you?” Elario raised his hands to rub his eyes, feeling exhausted. "Dante thinks our father murdered his father years ago. He’s been nursing a grudge for five years."

And while he is busy thrashing in rage and cursing to the devil's pride, I am strutting out of the cozy shop, not even bothering to look back. I wish what I had with me was acid. I would have destroyed that stupid face that makes him think he is one hell of a god. I would have paid him back in thousand folds, just like I did Papa. ≋≋≋≋≋≋ "Go and clear your desk." I hear Rome's deep command as soon as I push open the large oak door to his office. I didn't get the job, got pissed off by an asshole who reminded me of my father (biological father), so all I needed to get off some steam was him; Romeo. He is like the medicine for my every madness.

She bit softly on her lower lips, then pressed her thighs together, tightly, trying to suppress the ache in-between. Devine's hand remained on her cheeks, as he looked into her eyes. He must have been crazy for kissing her here in her father's bar, but damn the heavens and Hell in addition. He hated to see her cry, the tears that rolled down her cheeks fueled his desire to taste some blood, but the blood was her father’s blood. His hand caressed her cheeks, while his eyes wandered around her face. "You are worthy of everything coming to you, Momma, and Damn the heavens that I can not do anything to your father for causing you this much pain, but you are worth every beautiful thing and I am h

I said, pushing him away to look him in the eye “my son’s father is going to be his idol. I do not expect you to be backing out when the first impact hits you. You have survived so many bullets that I am surprised that this one hurt you this much” “Yes, I understand that it hurts, and yes, I am very well aware that some bullets hit harder than others. But you are Dante D’Angelo, son of Angelina D’Angelo, and despite you hating him, Giovanni D’Angelo. No, I never want to compare you to him in terms of morals, or the way he acts around things. But I know one thing about that fucking bastard, and it is if he starts something, he does not stop until he’s done with it. No matter what the cost is,

I held my breath, my hands twisting in my lap. Valentina took a step forward. “Dante? What does it say?” He lifted is head, and his eyes were like the were not giving anything away at first, he looked past Valentina, past his mother, and directly at me, and then, the corner of his mouth lifted in a small, almost impeccable smile. Relief washed over me intensely that I felt lightheaded. It was okay, he wasn't the father. Dante turned his cold gaze on Valentina. “It says,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, lethal tone. “That the probability of me being Adam's father is zero percent.”

How does my father know Dante? Dante raises his brows, and I see that Elva steps back shakily, “Are you scared of me, princess? You shouldn’t be, considering I am going to be your husband in a few days time.” “What?!” Enrique is the one to thunder, stepping further, the whole guests are looking intently, “What did you do, Vincent?” He turns towards my father, “What deal did you make with the devil?” “I-I t-told him he was going to marry Elva, he already signed the contract, but I already terminated the contract, I swear.” My father stumbles. What’s wrong with my father? Making deals with anybody he wishes?

We both sat on the couch and I said, "Okay, now spill." "Spill what?" "You know what I'm talking about." He laughed and said, "Looks like I underestimated you. Kaun blew it, didn't he?" I crossed my arms and waited for him to speak. He huffed and slumped in the sofa. "There's a lot to say and there's a lot that you wouldn't like to hear, so before you kick me out, listen to the whole thing." I nodded my head. "My father is the leader of Devil's wrath. Don't look at me, I hate that gang. So, my father was the one of the worst humans. I despised him and his mafia. I'm disgusted to know that I have his blood in me.

“Say that again,” I say. Dante doesn’t answer. He’s looking at the phone like it’s something that bit him, and for a man who walked out of a warehouse full of people who wanted him dead approximately four minutes ago looking completely unbothered, the fact that a phone call is doing this to his face tells me everything. “Dante.” I put my hand on his arm. “Say that again.” “Judge Callum Sorin,” he says. “My father.”