Dante Vale Novels & Stories

I was thankful that things went the way they are. “You are okay, Aurora. They would pay for what just happened, and Mattia is dead. You just need to breathe, okay?” she told me, her tone assuring. I nodded, looking at the place where Leonardo and Mattia were. Dante had called men to come and take their bodies without getting the cops involved, using his power as the D’Angelo Capo. And now, all that was left was their blood which they were currently going to clean.

…… DANTE Across the city, Dante Valleni was celebrating. Don Vallerio slid out of his car without even waiting for his guards to carry out their usual ritual of opening the door. He walked straight into the Vallenis mansion, two men trailing behind him in silk black suits. Shoving the door open, he loosened his tie. His rage-filled eyes scanned the grand hall, landing on his son, Dante. Dante sat in the midst of his friends—more like relatives—with a half-full tequila bottle in hand. Empty bottles lay scattered across the table. At the sound of the door flying open, everyone turned. They all stood when they saw Don Vallerio walk in.

Valerie paced about her room as she thought about her recent findings. Alexei Perez was Dante Perez’s Son, she knew him only as Dante and was never interested in his last name. She should have known. She picked up her phone to dial Nathan. FLASHBACK “Nice to meet you—“ Dante’s voice pierced through her mind, interrupting her thought as he waited for her to complete his sentence by giving her name. “Valerie.” She smiled as she extended her hand to him, she was starting to feel uncomfortable and uneasy already but that was not something she wanted Alexei to see.

Adriano grunted and nodded. "But some of them are around," Harry added. "I can call for them to the conference room." Adriano shook his head. "That would not be necessary." He said. "Tell me, who is waiting for me in my office?" Harry looked at his tablet and replied, "Mr Dante Vale. He is the CEO of Vale Enterprises." Adriano frowned. He knew of Vale enterprises. They were not based in this city, so why was their CEO here? And the name sounded very familiar, but Adriano could not place where he had heard it.

That’s not the same thing? Dante felt the truth of it like a blow. No, he said softly. It isn’t. For a moment, it seemed like the distance might finally crack. Then Dante’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and froze. Ethan noticed the change instantly. What is it? Dante looked up, expression shuttered, conflicted. It’s… Vale, he said. The name hung between them, charged and dangerous. Dante’s jaw tightened. He wants to meet. Tomorrow.

Even Maria from the bakery walked out of her shop. Dante Valenti, heir to a mafia family, was soaking wet right now. His face was covered in petals and blood, standing at the gate of a lemon grove in a small Sicanian town. He looked like a stray dog someone threw water on. He stood there stiff, face flushed red. Without saying a word, he climbed into his car and drove off like he was fleeing. That night, a call came from an unknown number. I thought it was the agricultural technician I had consulted, so I picked up.

Valerie's POV The day after the phone call, I walked into Dante Romano's fortress of a gallery in Lincoln Park. As Chicago's other Outfit boss and Miles's top rival, Dante was younger than I expected. Early thirties, tall, with eyes like a hawk. His gaze swept over me, then settled on my lower back, which I'd left intentionally exposed. The black phoenix, reborn in fire, was on full display. "Looks like you're ready to fly," he said, a dangerous glimmer in his eye.

“A monster who always gets what he wants.” And then, as unexpectedly as he had come, he left. The heavy door shut with a thud that rattled her chest. Valentina sat frozen, staring at the brush on the floor, her fingers trembling against her lap. On his way to Dominic’s office, Dante first made a stop at one of his drug houses—disguised, as always, as a fish processing company. The smell of fish filled the air and clung to the wall, mixed with the metallic scent of blood from the chopping tables.

What the hell did they want with his grandmother? His fingers curled into fists, blood boiling despite his body’s refusal to respond. All he could do was watch—helpless—as the figures disappeared into the smoke, their footsteps fading. “Fuck me,” Dante muttered under his breath, pushing past the throbbing in his skull. He turned his head with effort, his gaze falling on Rico slumped in the driver’s seat. The younger man’s arm was twisted at an unnatural angle, his head tilted against the steering wheel, blood trailing from his temple.

Dante was standing in the doorway with surprised amber eyes. Dante was actually a handsome guy with his strawberry blonde hair. It was short but long enough to cover his ears a little. The lines of his face from jaw to chin were slightly feminine, but you could never mistake him for anything but male. As he stood before us in only his boxers, every swell of muscle in his limbs and torso was well defined and tight. “Welcome home, Vasilios…” Dante said before stepping aside and letting us get by. He knelt beside us as we came in until Lio touched his shoulder, allowing him to rise again. Baltasar knelt as well and Lio did the same with him.