Dante's Love Novels & Stories

Dante moved into the armchair I’d just vacated, and I wondered if he noticed the warmth of the cushions from where my body had been just minutes ago. I moved closer to improve the line of sight from the mirror now that Dante faced the opposite direction, and I propped my elbow on the armrest and curled my fingers under my chin, ready to listen to the exchange in comfort. “You got a girl, Dante?” Theo asked. “No.” “No special lady?” “No,” Dante repeated. “But I have lovers…several of them.” “Your wife die or something?” Theo asked bluntly, already knowing the story but pretending he didn’t.

He looked at the burning city, then at the man who had become a god of ruin. "You're insane," Julian whispered. "No," Dante said, stepping onto the gangplank, his hand reaching out for Ivy. "I'm in love. And love is the most violent thing I have ever known." As Dante’s fingers brushed Ivy’s, the warehouse behind them exploded. The shockwave threw them both onto the deck of the ship. Dante crawled toward her, his blood staining the white silk of her gown. He pulled her into his arms, his grip so tight it was almost crushing. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her, sobbing without sound.

Because he didn’t want her soul to be destroyed, he asked the deity to give her another chance. That was the only reason. He wasn’t in love. He couldn’t be in love. But he wanted her to hug him forcefully, although he wouldn’t admit it even if it was the end of the world or his life. The sound of her breathing entered his ears again. He wanted to be closer to her. Dante Scheledrus Wyrm was tamed by Savina Cox. Only Dante had realised it, but he would still not say that he was in love. The cage of love was worse than this book. Love had more destructive powers than any kind of darkness.

Dante with his very much crew heart swept her off her feet and she found herself yearning to be In his arms as much as she yearned to be in his bed. From mere lust and sinful acts, Dante found himself embedded in her, desiring to have himself buried in her warm willing self while he stole kisses from her. He would not only wait for her outside her workspace. He supported her in building her hospital even though it was the opposite of his belief—his belief was to take life and not preserve it, but anything about her melted him and he did them with a heart that conveyed genuineness.

Dante was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, very softly: "I'm trying to fix it." "Fix what?" "Everything. The debt is almost paid. Another month, and I'll have satisfied every obligation. Then I'm done with the Abate family." "And me? Where do I fit into this 'another month'?" He reached for my hand. I let him take it. "You fit," he said. "You're the only thing that fits." It was the closest thing to a declaration of love that Dante Moretti had ever made.

Dante would take everything the Devil loved and own and burn it to ash. Starting with Isabella Russo.

Natalie asked, to distract Dante. The man immediately chuckled. “Love? Doesn’t that sound ridiculous?” He squeezed Natalie’s ass and whispered, “I can’t fall in love.” “Because all you know is lust!” Natalie reproached him coldly. She pushed Dante’s hand away from her ass as she asked, “Did you know that lust can destroy you?” Dante was interested to hear that. A casual smile appeared on his lips. “Isn’t love also what has destroyed you?” His question left Natalie speechless. She could not deny it. Her arguments were so weak that she herself knew that Dante was right.

That she would fight. But she hadn’t. And now, she had done it again. The soft chime of the café door closing behind her felt like a gunshot, shattering the last illusion I had clung to. She still loved me. I saw it in her eyes, in the way her breath caught when she looked at me, in the way her fingers had trembled when she touched me. But love wasn’t enough. Not in her world. Not when the man she was bound to was Damien Laurent.

They moved in, disarming Dante and restraining his men. "Isabella, don't go!" Dante struggled against the mercenaries holding him back. "Please, I know I was wrong, I can fix it! Just give me a chance to prove that I love you!" I walked toward the door without looking back. "Isabella! I can kill Seraphina! I'll do anything to prove my love for you!" I paused and glanced back at him. "Dante, if you ever truly loved me, you would wish me my freedom." "I can't lose you! I can't live without you!"

He was hanging on by threads—and still, he moved toward me like he’d die if he didn’t. I didn’t realize I was shaking until Dante reached for me. “Don’t,” I snapped. His hand paused midair. Then dropped. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, mock hurt curling around the syllables. “You used to look at me like I was a god.” “You drugged him.” “He needed a nap. And you…” He stepped closer. “You needed clarity.” “I’m clear, Dante.” “Are you?” His head tilted. “You’ve been passed between brothers like a favorite toy and still think they love you? Matteo marks your throat, Luca plays house, and Nico—well. Nico would rather kill than confess. That’s not love, darling. That’s possession.”