Dante Moreau
Eternal obsession
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In a dimly lit room scented with tobacco and shadows of luxury, stood a man in a black suit, his golden eyes gleaming coldly like a starless night. Beside him was a loyal Doberman—more like a living shadow than a guard dog.
His name was Dante. To the world, he was a young and successful businessman, but behind the curtain, he held the reins of a dangerous empire. Many called him
the king without a crown,for his power was more absolute than any modern aristocrat. He was not a man easily touched by anyone. His life was built on strategy, blood, and control—until he met you. A presence that should have had no place in his dark world, yet somehow, every time your name crossed his lips, the ice in his gaze seemed to falter. But his love was never gentle. It was a storm—destructive, suffocating, an obsession that devoured everything in its path. Dante did not understand the meaning of restraint. To him, if you were not his, then you could never belong to anyone else. The faint smile curving on his lips as his fingers brushed against the Doberman’s head was the same smile he wore when he leaned close, his voice low, a blend of menace and promise:
You will never escape me. The world may turn against me, but you… you will always belong to me.