Dante In Devil May Cry 5 Novelas e Histórias

Vincenzo picked a gun, a pistol. He walk back to Dante and sat stood infront of him. “What now? are you gonna kill me? Hun? motherfucker, haven’t those boys you call men don enough?”Dante barked. His eyes now red, his tune a sound of anger and agony. “Relax. They did their part and now it’s my torne.”He said. His voice raspy yet deep and cold. “Fuck you”Dante crused. “No don’t fuck me, I ain’t gay man. You go fuck the devil when you see him.”Vincenzo replied nonchalantly.

Dante charged forward, closing the distance between him and Paulo in threatening strides, his fists clenched tightly, veins taut with the promise of violence. Paulo gazed up at him in terror as Dante seized his collar and roughly hauled him to his feet. The tycoon's eyes were blazing with unrestrained fury, his face twisted into a feral snarl. Maya remained rooted to her spot. She had never seen Dante this enraged. He reeked of bloodlust- aura so intense and vicious that it made her stomach twist. He was entirely a different man.

I kept my cool, though my anger simmered close to the surface. “I was careless,” Dante explained, almost pleading. “I didn't expect…” he trailed off. I raised my hair again, and he flinched. However I only tilted his chin back up to look at me. “Good. You recognize your mistake,” my thumb brushed his cheek, musing internally. He truly was beautiful. If only he could control his strange impulses to annoy me. “Now, tell me. Who is Marcel?” “He’s a colleague. An assassin,” Dante spoke, but his eyes betrayed a veiled emotion I could not read. My ire sparked once more, and I hummed low, almost a grunt.

he barked, his finger tightening on the trigger, his pristine composure completely shattered. That momentary distraction was the only opening Dante needed. With a primal roar, Dante launched himself forward, ignoring the searing heat radiating through the soles of his boots. He swung the heavy titanium wrench in a brutal, upward arc, aiming for Julian's weapon hand. The pistol fired wildly as the wrench connected with a sickening crunch of breaking bone, sending the chrome weapon spinning off into the molten chasm below. Julian howled in pain, but his survival instinct kicked in; he lunged forward, tackling Dante around the waist with surprising, desperate strength.

It was the funniest thing Jeremy had ever seen in his life. Pity. Poor Denny Felixa. An ignorant idea popped into Jeremy's head. Playing for a while might be a lot of fun now. Or maybe he could just be a savior. Ah I don't know, what is clear is that the man wants to approach that person. "Are you okay Sir?" asked Jeremy who saw that Denny was still in pain. What doesn't hurt, of course! But the fact is that Denny doesn't want to admit it until he just pretends to look good. Still in pain, the person tried to stand up straight. It's just that because Jenny's kick was too strong, the man grimaced.

My mind was still replaying it, his forehead pressed to her temple, his voice dropping into that low Italian growl, calling her amore mio arrabbiato(my angry love) like she was something precious instead of a collared problem we bought for ten million. Could he have fallen for her? Nah. Impossible. Dante is the steel spine of this pack. The oldest. The leader. The one who taught us how to kill clean, how to rule without apology. He’s a psychopath, sure, same as the rest of us but his is surgical. Controlled. Mine? Mine’s a fucking wildfire. Ryker’s is a blade that likes to play. Asher’s is a quiet, smiling abyss. But Dante’s rage is ice. Precise. He doesn’t lose control. Ever.

Caterina was silent. "Now we focus on your recovery first." Dante spoke softly. Caterina nodded. Dante took off the shirt that was attached to his body. He put the shirt on his daughter's body to cover Caterina's naked body. Dante's jaw tightened; he clenched his fists very tightly as he brought destruction to his daughter's world. He should never have brought Caterina to live there. He should have left La Vendetta first so he could focus on taking care of his daughter and planning a good future for her.

The man holding the gun in front of me dropped. Collapsed like his strings had been cut. Blood sprayed onto the column. I gasped, stumbled backward— "Sera!" My head whipped around. Dante. And he looked like he'd been through hell. His lip was split, blood trailing down the side of his mouth. His tie was gone, jacket missing, white shirt stained red on one side. His eyes locked on me like I was the only thing left standing. "You're okay," he breathed, relief flashing wild and fierce in his gaze, just before he lunged toward me.

“I can see that you don't seem to understand the situation that you are in right now, well let me make it more clear to you, my men have taken over all your territories, including the infinery that you speak of, there is no deal that we can strike” Dante had his gaze scanning around. I could tell what was going on in his head; no doubt that he knew that he had been betrayed by someone, and that look of shame and defeat that followed was enough satisfaction for me. “If you want to kill me, just go ahead and do so. But if you are expecting me to beg for mercy, then you are certainly wasting your time, because I won't be doing that” Dante gritted his teeth, his eyes turned red, but that gaze Ca

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.