Billionaires With Tattoos Novels & Stories

When they rode down from the shockwave sweet delirium of their pleasure, Aiden picked up the tattoo machine sitting idly in the table before them and waved it in front of Kate. Smiling she said. “I want it drawn here.” Aiden dragged his eyes down to what Kate was gesturing for him to see. Kate flipped her Tshirt up, baring her stomach for him to see. She knew other pornstars had their Brazzers emblem drawn on parts of their skin where people can easily spot them but she doesn’t want it. For the sake of her father and Tiffany and her son, Gabby.

He looked away. The gala venue was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, and golden lights bathed the room in a soft, dreamlike glow. Damian introduced her to a few of his acquaintances — Gregory Thorne, a luxury yacht mogul; Nadia Velasquez, CEO of a fashion empire; and Alden Ko, a real estate tycoon in Singapore. Eventually, Aria stepped away, giving him room to talk business. She wandered with a glass of champagne in hand, observing the opulence.

“So do you have the tattoos?” I can’t help from running my eyes over his chest. I’m not sure why I’m disappointed when he shakes his head. “I have many tattoos but they are all hidden. I need to maintain the bland businessman portrayal. They are also not in the old style of your body being your testimony of deeds. My father would not allow it—too easy for the Feds to take note, then try and pin crimes to us. So I have a lion of our name, the same as my brothers. As well as several I like.” A small, wicked smile. “I was surprised to find your tattoo. Although I guess I should not have been.”

He is wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt; the tattoos covering his arms are fully exposed. It amazes me how he is a big CEO who owns a billion-dollar company, and yet, under the fancy suits and sexy glasses, he's just a punk man at heart with his tattoos and great taste in music. Sometimes I think he is two completely different people when he's at work and when we're alone together. It's almost as if he has a secret identity. A sudden thought strikes me, and I do my best to conceal the wheels turning in my head from Atlas.

I tried to look away but there was something that made my eyes go back to Nate's body, on his back he had a tattoo that covered all his skin, it was a tattoo of a wolf opening its jaws, it looked scary showing its fangs. -Ready-putting on a loose shirt. -I thought I saw a tattoo," I said, "I thought businessmen didn't like that kind of thing. What does it mean? -Well, the fact that I'm an entrepreneur doesn't mean that my young spirit died, on the contrary, I'm someone like anyone else, just a millionaire," he said. Once again I was not amused by his little jokes. -The meaning is that I identify myself with the wolf, for his tenacity, his power," he sat back in his chair.

Placing the coffee on the table and passed me the Ipad, which I immediately swiped open. I could see the golden grin formed on the corner of his lips as I checked in with the news. TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS OLD, BILLIONAIRE/ BUSINESS TYCOON. ZANE CREED HAS BEATEN THE LIKES OF NATASHA TAYLOR, RICHARD MOFURE, MOHAMMED KUMAR, AND OTHERS TO BECOME THE NO. 1 BUSINESS TYCOON IN THE WORLD WITH NETWORTH US$200.5 BILLION. ZANE IS KNOWN AS THE FOUNDER OF AINSOFT AND WHITE ORIGIN ( THE WORLD'S LARGEST GAME COMPANY). Click here for more info...

It was nearing five thirty when Richmond walked out of his room, his feet dragging him towards the mini fridge to get a drink of water. "Good evening. How was your nap?" I greeted brightly, eyeing the way his white t-shirt clung to his form, It was slightly wet from sleep sweat, and rod up his back, revealing a long tattoo that sat at the base of his spine, just barely meeting the waistband of his trousers. It was a long sword, that sat sideways from hip to hip. I briefly wondered how Richmond got away with having so many tattoos in this profession, especially because he didn't really bother to try and hide them, most people would be put off by them, dare I say, they'd think lesser of someon

Tonight was the Bennett Foundation Gala five hundred of New York's elite crammed into the Plaza, writing checks they'd never miss to causes they would never think about again. And he would be there. Dante Russo. My chest tightened just thinking his name. I'd seen his face in Forbes, in the Wall Street Journal, on the covers of magazines that treated him like some kind of king. CEO. Philanthropist. Self-made billionaire. They had no idea what he really was. What we really were. I turned from the window and picked up my clutch it was small and expensive, containing nothing but lipstick, a fake ID, and the kind of courage that only comes from having nothing left to lose.

“But I’m honoured to finally introduce you to the man I’ve been keeping to myself, Dante Moreau.” Gasps. A glass shattered. Someone actually whispered holy shit. Because that name, that face, that man, wasn’t just rich. He was untouchable. Elusive. A billionaire ghost whose appearances were limited to boardrooms and court filings. No woman had ever been seen on his arm. No tabloid had ever caught him in a compromising photo. If there had been a sweepstakes for Least Likely To Be Secretly Engaged To Me, he would’ve been the odds-on favorite.

His bodyguards stood like a wall around him, and he had just ended his phone call. “Excuse me,” I said to one of the guards. “I need to speak to your boss.” The guards stepped aside, and the man turned. I froze. It was Hunter Steele. The richest billionaire in the country. Ruthless. Untouchable. His name alone struck fear into people’s hearts. Stories of his cruelty were legendary. He was said to especially hate women because his mother had abandoned him for a wealthier man when he was a child. Also, there were rumours that he had strong connections with the Mafia but the rumours were never confirmed.