Dante X Bayonetta Novels & Stories

I demanded. He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his expression. "Oh, sweetheart," He set his glass down, rising to his full height. Slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance between us, stopping just close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. "I am your father’s… what do we call this now? Business associate. I am Dante Moreau’s business associate and he betrayed me." “Then what does it have to do with me?” His fingers lifted, trailing lightly along my jaw.

Nate pushed his hands away, closing the other buttons as well and hiding the chain back into his shirt. "No, no," Dante's eyes began to shift back to how they were earlier, somber and ruthless. His entire face seemed to sharpen as if had, the pink in his cheeks also vanishing the longer he stared at Nate fixing his shirt. "Be how you were before," he shoved Nate's hand away, grabbing the knife again and extending it towards his palm. "Take the knife," his voice had darkened, no longer soft as it was a few seconds earlier, "act as if you're going to stab me."

I heard the sickening crack of bone against marble. “Xander!” Adriana screamed behind me. Her voice was laced with panic, but it barely registered. I was already lunging. But Domenico was fast. Too fast. He darted through the chaos with lethal precision. And then—he turned. Not to flee. No. To her. Raven. My blood turned to ice. Dante tried to block his way but he gave him a hard blow sending him flying across the room. “Dante!" Raven screamed,

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.

Amelia releases the breath she has been holding, Dante scares her, she can't believe this is the boy she raised like her son. __ Dante reaches his room and Laura is naked on the bed waiting for him, their sêx exploitations have gotten worse everyday, she is getting more like his sêx toy and she loves it. Dante smirks and rushes to her, he climbs on the bed and looks by her side to see a vibrator with a fat dildo.

Meanwhile, Dante only nodded, before he faced the door, with no destination in mind. Ninetta stared at her perfect reflection in her varsity mirror, while she admired herself. She was obsessed with her beauty. She was a redhead, with brown eyes, complemented by hazel shades. Ninetta was a beauty to behold, and she knew that. She was also one of the Capo's favorites. Everyone knew that because it wasn't something that wasn't visible. She was twenty-four, and very ambitious. “Ninetta.” She heard Dante call out to her. She pulled away from the varsity mirror, intending to give him her whole attention.

Dante took Natalie to the bathroom and helped clean her up. She just stood there and let him do it. Natalie watched as Dante focused on bathing her. His naked upper body caught her attention. She noticed several scars on Dante’s chest and stomach. She slowly touched them. “Is your life so dangerous?” she asked softly. “Enough to keep me on my toes,” Dante replied indifferently. He bent down to rub Natalie’s leg with bath gel. His treatment was so gentle that Natalie felt comfortable. She held on to his shoulder and looked at the tattoo on his left shoulder. It was a small tattoo of a vine wrapped around a winged sword. Looking at it made her feel like she was being pulled into a fantasy worl

“You should have never touched my name.” Dante smiled faintly, eyes cold. “You built your empire on ashes. I simply helped it burn faster.” “You call this cleansing?” She gestured to the smoking city below. “This is cowardice wearing armor.” “Cowardice?” he murmured, stepping closer. “No, Bianca. This is the consequence. You wanted to rule gods and monsters and forgot you were both.” She lunged. The first clash of steel shattered the balcony rail. Sparks hissed in the rain. Dante was strong, faster than she remembered but rage had made her something else. Every strike was a wound remembered, every parry the ghost of someone she’d lost.

He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving hers, as if the taste of her lie lingered on his tongue. Valentina drank, too, the heat burning down her throat. She didn’t cough, didn’t wince. Weakness was something she never displayed, not even in private. “So,” Dante said finally, leaning back in his chair, one arm stretched across the backrest, “Miss Bellamy, the broker from Antwerp.” His tone mocked the title, but his gaze stayed level. “Tell me… what do you think of our little city?” The question was too simple—a trap.

“I didn’t—” “Do not lie to me!” Dante roared, the sound reverberating through the marble walls. His control, usually ironclad, had shattered, and for a split second, Zaya saw the beast beneath the tailored suits and ruthless charm. Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had learned the hard way that tears were weapons here, and sometimes, they made you weaker. “You think so little of me?” she spat back, her voice shaking with anger now. “You think I would sell myself like that?”