Dante From The Devil May Cry Series Novels & Stories

Dante and Sabastain might have been brothers, but they had very little in common, least of all in their physical attributes. Although both men were impressively tall, Dante was obviously taller. While Dante was as dark haired and brown eyed as their father, Sabastain had taken after his impressive maternal genes with the sexy blue eyes and honey blonde hair that many found mesmerizing, Along with that cocky heart melting smile that was to die for and the confident swagger that reinforced his devil may care attitude. He was indeed the typical playboy and a serial heartbreaker.

Alex chuckled, “His name is Dante Giordano.” I turned to him, my jaw dropping in disbelief. “Dante Giordano? As in… the leader of the Tiger Fangs gang?” The most notorious ruthless mafia syndicate in probably the world. Dante was known to be ruthless in his dealings which earned him the name ‘The Devil’. Alex simply nodded. A low whistle escaped my lips. “You sneaky bastard. Who would have thought the good boy you pretend to be would be friends with the devil himself?” “We met by chance,” Alex said, his gaze fixed on the road. “And Dante owes me a favour.”

Dante's pov Dante stands frozen in the doorway his eyes locked on a scene that makes his blood boil so hot he feels like he might explode. Right there in the center of the Persian rug, his brother Lorenzo has his hands all over Danika. Not just a polite touch, but a possessive, filthy grip. Lorenzo’s large hand is cupping Danika’s ass, his fingers digging deep into the soft flesh through her dress, pulling her hips flush against his own. Dante can see the way Lorenzo’s thumb is rubbing dangerously close to the crease of her thigh, a motion that screams intimacy and ownership.

Malachi, the Night Hunter, held his silver blade raised as the two gray, twisted wolves prepared for the final strike. "Dante!" Helena's cry sent a jolt through the Alpha's chest. Dante threw himself off the moving motorcycle before it even stopped. He landed on all fours, his hands buried in the damp earth, his shoulders expanding beneath his skin in a surge of muscular growth that tore what little remained of his shirt. He wasn't man, but he wasn't entirely wolf either; he was a mass of fury and desperate restraint. His eyes were pure liquid gold, gleaming with an ancient hatred directed at Malachi.

If he wasn't, he would've been shot on the spot moments ago but I couldn't deny that I was irrational when it comes to Sofia because I am. "You're going to cause war with the Scar bloods over a girl, you're the fucking Ace Hernandez, leader of the Reapers, start acting like it" Dante shoved me. I sharply turned my stare to him. I grabbed his arm roughly. "You want to see cruel Dante?" I hissed at him. I grabbed his arm and forced it into my knee, snapping his elbow. I earned a scream from Dante as he dropped to the floor. "You want to see me ignorant Dante?!" I shouted as I held him up by his shirt collard before kicking him on the ground. Dante groaned, coughing uncontrollably from my kick.

“I brought her, like I said I would.” Sitting behind the massive oak desk is a man I recognize instantly, though I’ve only ever heard stories. Dante Dragonetti, the monster in the shadows. The one even my father speaks of with fear. He leans back in his chair, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, the sharp planes of his face illuminated by the light from a desk lamp. “Il drago,” I whisper, the word slipping out before I can stop it. Dante chuckles, low and rumbling, like thunder. “They still use that name? How quaint.” His gaze sweeps over me, calculating and cold. “This is the Cerulli girl?”

And the fact that this womanizer was preaching to him about love and relationships was beyond him. "See you in the evening," Carlos said before getting up and marching out of his room. ........ Dante returned home a little bit drunk. He drank so that he could forget her but it backfired when he started seeing her in every other woman. Every face had resembled with hers but none of them was as beautiful as hers. His Maya is the prettiest. She is a pretty doll.

Dante. Leaning casually against the window, half-naked, holding a glass of amber whiskey like he was in a cologne commercial. His tattoo curled down the side of his torso like it had been drawn by sin itself, highlighting every sculpted inch of his abs. And that smirk—God, that smirk. Equal parts arrogant and devastating. What on earth was wrong with you, Scarlet? Why do you want to pounce on him? “Why am I here?” I asked, trying to sound firm, though my eyes may have lingered a little too long on his chest.

He adjusted his suit jacket, though his eyes were still burning with the fire of L'Oscuro. He looked down at Mateo, who was still on his knees. "You thought you were inviting a tech CEO to a birthday party." Dante whispered, his voice dangerously calm. "You forgot who I was before I built the company, Santiago." Mateo spat. “You son of…” "You invited the Devil into your house." Dante hissed. "And now you are upset that he brought hell with him." Then he casually shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around the room, his grey eyes sweeping over the terrified elite of New York.

"I am very sure you will want to follow your mommy. Then, we would see the kind of choice you would make. Become a servant like your mommy and sister, or come with me and become my heir." "I will never do that." Dante shrugged. "The little devil has made up his mind. You have made up your mind to follow the bad road and I cannot stop you." He looked at me and snickered. "I will be leaving now." He squatted before Derek. "I will be meeting you soon, my dear." Derek grabbed on to my hand, not even trying to let go, while Dianne was doing otherwise. Why doesn't she understand that this man over here is a different man entirely. He is not the man who would carry her like before and ay sweet word