Dante's Son Devil May Cry Novels & Stories

The two men tied to the chains, looked up from their bloodied states only to see the devil standing in front of them. "Let the fun begin," Dante smirked, stabbing the first man in the shoulder and twisting his knife a full 180 degrees. The man screamed in unbearable pain and already felt his life slipping away. Dante had dug his knife into the same spot the man was shot at. "How dare you even touch my girl?" Dante gritted every word before dragging the knife to his chest, cutting open all the skin that came in its way. "How dare you even look at her with your filthy eyes?" the man spat some blood before looking in Dante's eyes.

Till he was just the breathing silhouette Sebastian had seen. Sebastian knows because he had felt the same. The day of Sarah’s death, he had felt a rage higher than a tower. He lost consciousness of every sense of morality that he had even pulled his gun scaring the kids that stood just where his daughter had left. He recalled the feeling of emptiness when he held lifeless Sarah on the ground, such that he had even wished a truce with the devil. If only it worked that way. So when Sebastian laid his eyes on the man, he knew exactly how he felt. A broken father.

saying he cheered himself While others gave confused smile, but next instant they were surprised and shock listening to him Sinha and play Piano 'Baby I wanna tell you a story Sorry if I bore you with mine It's a story of a Devil and his Angel Ever since a child he grew up listening to love Heard the stories of Devil's how they were smitten Heard the stories of Angel's how they fallen on earth Never once he believed that Angel's are real and Devil's get's it one He believed there is no such Angel for Devil There's no such LOVE where Devil is smitten He turned into Devil was not in search of an Angel Never in his life he thought he would found it one Not definitely in his world where only Dev

I took a glance at Valerian and saw him already staring at me. When I agreed to what he wanted in exchange for his life after I fulfill what he requires, will it be all worth it? Will it finally be enough for my father? Will I finally be free? When I entered his lair thinking I can handle him, was I right? Can I really handle this devil and what he is capable of doing? “Did you do that?” I asked, spitting the words like poison. He creased his forehead. “What?” “Did you--”

“She’s a D’Amato. Her father is one of our oldest partners. That union locks down the Eastern corridor. Cuts off the bratva’s leverage. Reignites the Atlantic run. It makes sense.” “It makes you comfortable.” “And it makes you safe. Or did you think this whole legacy you stand to inherit came gift-wrapped with no expectations?” I didn’t respond. Because we both knew the truth: I’d never been given choices. Only chains dressed like suits. “You’re good at what you do,” he said after a beat. “You’re better than your father ever was. But your softness will be your downfall.” My hands curled into fists. “What softness?” He leaned forward, voice dropping like a blade. “Whatever it is that’s cloudi

"Like you haven’t pulled me into hell already? You dragged me through the mud and made me look like a fool to the devil." "You don’t even need to go to hell," Dario countered, leaning down until we were eye to level. "Because the devil is sitting right in front of you, and you’re too blind to see it." "And I presume you’re the devil?" "No, Gianna." He held my gaze, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "Roman is."

Then, like he was the dramatic lead in some mafia soap opera, Dante appeared right in the middle of the room. “Why don’t you want to talk about me?” he said with a smirk as he pulled out the chair right next to me. Fuck my life. Federico cleared his throat. “Because we’re here to celebrate Melanie and her mother.” Dante stood again, walked right over to my mom, and offered his hand. “Hi. I’m Dante. My father’s first and only son. You don’t get to take my mother’s place.” “Grow up, Dante,” Federico snapped.

He pointed his index finger at me, then put it in front of my breasts and ran it all the way up my skin until he lifted my chin. “People who show a lot of resistance annoy me,” he said, and I looked at him angrily. “Didn't my father tell you what I looked like when he sold me?” I asked angrily. “So you know,” Dante said, amused. “This is even better than I thought.” “Why would you make a deal with the devil?” I asked incredulously. "My father is a terrible man; the moment he thinks it's convenient, he's going to kill you. He'll take everything you have, and you'll be just a distant memory. I know, I know who the monster is that fathered me."

"I'm Ryder Blackthorn. It's nice to meet you, Dante." Ryder reached out and took Dante's hand in a grip that looked like it could crush bone. Dante's face twisted, his fingers turning white as Ryder squeezed with slow, spiteful pressure. "Nice to meet you, Ryder," Dante hissed, trying to pull his hand back. "Wait... you're Father Blackthorn's son. But you don't seem like the man my father described. He said the son was a... well, a nerd." "And who's your father?" Ryder asked, his voice smooth in a way that didn't quite feel safe.

Not anymore. Luca lowered his gun slightly, but his tone stayed sharp. “You have five seconds to get off my property, Moretti.” Dante didn’t move. His gaze locked with mine again, and he spoke so quietly only I could hear. “He looks like me, doesn’t he?” My breath caught. Luca’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t.” Dante ignored him completely. “The boy. Alessio.” His voice softened, almost reverent. “My son.” I stepped closer until I could see the faint scar under his jaw, one I used to trace with my fingertips. “You lost the right to call him that.”