Dixie Mafia Tattoos Novels & Stories

Picking up my glass, I lightly sipped my alcohol, the stinging liquid coursing through my body. “We have, huh?” I said, putting my glass down with an intensity that made some of the stuff spill out. “Look at these pictures. Notice their hands. They all have the same tattoo on their hands… like the head of a cat or lizard. That must mean something. Find out the mafioso faction or any group with these types of tattoos and get back to me.” “Yes, boss,” he said, standing. He bent to pick up the pictures but I stopped him.

Of course, whoever was with the woman probably needed somewhere nice to sit as it took a while with this sort of thing. “You and me both” she said, “but I gotta say some of those looked alright, we definitely haven’t found YOUR dress yet.” She wasn’t wrong, some of them had been decent enough, but none that really won me over. Exasperated I shook out my low ponytail, twisted my hair, and shoved it up into a sloppy bun on the top of my head. I heard a gasp and turned to see the saleslady staring at me. I realized, belatedly, that my tattoo was visible. In the mob, or mafia as it was typically called, we had distinguishing marks; one of the most frequent being strategically placed tattoos. Thi

I really hope that wasn't true. I grabbed Sophia and made her dance a few songs then a cute boy came and took over. Sophia was petrified, but I explained she was under Niko's protection and was not to be touched inappropriately. The fear that ran through those boys' faces was laughable. I was getting the hang of this whole mafia thing. "Gio, another Hurricane stud and make it a double." I yelled to him behind the bar. He gave me a disapproving glare then started mixing something blue.

I said, trying to rationalize the horror. "No, they have the Mafia signature on them," he replied. His tone was grave, and I felt a chill run down my spine. Cassius had a reputation, one that sent shivers through even the most hardened criminals. Anyone he killed bore his signature—a stark letter M etched into their foreheads. It was as if he wanted the world to know who was behind the violence, taunting the authorities who had failed to catch him for five years and counting.

said Ye Jun, the hostage, with a sigh escaping her lips. It seemed like the drug was starting to take effect. A smirk was clearly visible on Asher's lips. "So, Zeus is your master. Then, do you know who was the sniper who targeted my wife a while ago? Why does he have a Phoenix tattoo on his wrist?" Bert took the electric vibrator that had been provided. In front of Asher and many other people, Ye Jun, a beautiful man with a young age range, had to endure pain, arousal, and embarrassment as Bert pulled up his black jeans.

I had been too terrified to pay much attention to it then. And the other man, the one who had held my arm in a vice-like grip, his forearm had been covered in a sleeve of tattoos, but among them, a smaller, identical symbol was visible near his wrist. That same brutal, angular symbol. They were Aaron’s men. The Ash Mafia. My hand starts to shake uncontrollably, the thin baby log slipping from my fingers and falling to the floor with a soft thud. My gaze darts between the tattoo on Liam’s hand in the faded photograph and the terrifying memory that now floods my mind.

He asked as he breathed out his smoke. I take off my jacket and my shirt to show him my tattoo of the Criemsons. The tattoo shows a blood sword that encircles with vipers and roses that symbolizes our gang or mafia name. I swiveled to indicate my identity while his ladies gape at me like the last cupcake in a bakery they wanted to devour. "Holy mother of great mercy" He grinned. "Now can we converse interaction?" I asked before I put my clothes in and I know his kittens will groan for consuming clothes.

All I know he's Isabella's best friend but rarely has anything to do with the Mafia. I look behind me to see Jayden looking at them as I can imagine what he's thinking. 'They are also part of the mafia?'. It's not like we come with a label on our foreheads that say 'hey, I'm part of the mafia kill me'. We all have the same tattoo on either our shoulder blades or biceps. Mine is on my shoulder blade. I pass them but the Italian stops me. "Why is he here? You can't bring outsiders and you know that." She says and I scoff.

I tried to wiggle off but I was stuck. "Thank you, babe." A man stated and placed a kiss onto the woman's cheek. I noticed he had a five-point star tattooed onto his hand. It was a symbol of our rival mafia family. "Stidda." I spat as he turned to face me. "Ah, I was wondering when you would figure it out. Welcome to New Zealand Cuore." He rejoiced and his arms flew open.

In her imagination, the mafia was a terrifying organization that didn't hesitate to commit high-level crimes. "Mafia?" "Yes, Madam," Toni confirmed, looking worried. "B-but it's more dangerous than I thought. I only got a little information." "What is it?" "I remembered the tattoo on the wrist of the attacker at the slaughterhouse. It's a lotus group, a part of the mafia responsible for attacking targets. There are other factions as well, but unfortunately, that's all I could gather." Dea nodded her head. Her mind immediately went to Mr. Bad.