Novel & Cerita Dixie Mafia Tattoos

He rolls his eyes, blows out the flame, and drops it in the bin. His cropped sleeve shirt displays a huge tattoo on his right arm as he flexes it to drop the cigar. It was a woman with a rifle. “Nice tattoo,” I said looking right at it. “Eh, it’s okay,” he says as he walks back to me. “About the party, know that you will have to be on your best behavior,” he says in a cheeky tone, “The members of the family will not be foolish like me.”

I was surprised seeing this part of him, When he was done, he discarded the cloth. He joined me on the bed, placing my head on his chest and covering us with a blanket. "Sleep" he whispered". "Talk to me," I said, placing my hand on his chest. He sighed "About what?" "Anything, or talk to me about your tattoos," I whispered. "My first tattoo is the Omerta in my chest—the code of silence for made men. "What do the words under it say? I can't read them.". He smirked "Obviously it is written in Italian; the words mean never take sides against the family, and the family is the mafia". I had watched so many movies about the mafia and how bonded they are, but never in my life did I ever believe I

His arms was out and it showed a star tattoo with the letter 'D' placed inside of it. I've seen it before. It was one of the Russians, but how the hell did they manage to find me? My father and the Russians have always been rivals ever since mamà was alive. They wanted to take over our mafia and my father wanted theirs. I've killed more Russians than I can remember. They never know when to give up. But, now that the mafia is being handed over to me, no one's taking shit. Sam dials someone on the phone before speaking to them and hanging up.

he said with a smirk. I stared at him for a moment before shaking my head and heading outside. In the driveway, a sleek black Range Rover awaited me. The driver opened the door with a respectful bow, and I climbed in without a word. As the car pulled out, Damon’s words replayed in my mind. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. A laugh escaped me, sharp and bitter. “Damon Dark, mafia and werewolf,” I muttered to myself. “What he wouldn’t do is make peace.”

My gaze locked onto his glowing eyes, and I felt it—a sudden, invisible heat that wrapped around both of our wrists, binding us. I gasped, staring at the faint marks forming on my skin. A bond. The Moon Goddess really has given me another chance—another path just as I begged for but why with a Mafia? Before I could fully process what was happening, his strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. His thumb traced my lips again, slower this time, before he leaned in and captured my mouth in a searing, possessive kiss. I stiffened, my mind screaming at me to resist, but my body betrayed me, melting into his touch.

he muttered under his breath. “If anything happens to my baby… I won’t spare anyone… I’ll destroy everything… everything…” 👿 His movements were restless, unstable… dangerous. He had no idea that every nurse and every woman around was staring at him. At that moment— Daniel was only wearing his lower. His upper body was bare. Rose’s blood stained his chest. A lion tattoo stretched across his left arm, enhancing the raw power of his muscular physique. His broad chest… his sharp features… his perfectly carved abs—

With all his cunning and bravery, Liam had successfully betrayed Rafael—a big mafia who led an underground network in America and Europe. Long before making a decision, Lucas knew that Liam was a dangerous man who could kill anyone he wanted, even without reason. Deciding to work with him was the same as putting his life in danger. "I wanna do it because they're useless. I won't kill anyone useful to me." "Is this a warning for me to do something useful for you?" Lucas asked calmly. "You're too brave to be under Rafael's rule, Axton." Liam squinted his eyes, "I feel that you could betray me anytime you want."

I pushed myself off the door frame and took a step toward him. "So, is this what you do to your victims?” I pressed. “You put them under your control and then kill them? Well, Darick, you can shove that stupid blood oath up your ass and go to hell! You are barbaric.” This clearly made him angry. Good. He deserved to feel half of what I was. "You don't know what you're talking about. You know nothing about me," he growled. "I know you are the leader of the Blood Brother's mafia, a gang of vampires, and I now understand why you're called Darick the Bloodthirsty," I replied, pointing to the bite mark on my neck.

She walks in followed by a man in his thirties, bald head and a tattoo running down from the side of his face to his neck. I always wanted Tattoos but growing up my father never allowed it, even though we were the head of the Mafia family he was big on us not looking suspicious in any form. “Sir” he walks in intertwining his fingers between each other, his left hand carrying a tattoo that signifies the Silver Mafia cartel, a drawn tattoo of a silver bullet. “You may go, Maria,” I say to the maid, watching him leave closing the door behind her, leaving us in secrecy. “What's the update for the week?” I turn to him trying to tune into work mode but the thoughts of Isabella still taunt me.

Oh, goodness me, no. He pulled away from my dad, and the movement was fluid, predatory, like a lethal panther stretching its muscles after a kill. He was tall—towering over my father—with broad, powerful shoulders that strained against the fabric of his tight black t-shirt. And oh my God, the tattoos. Intricate, dark ink sleeves crawled down both of his muscular arms, disappearing under his expensive watch and weaving onto the back of his large, veiny hands. They screamed danger. They screamed "Mafia." They screamed that he was a bad, bad man.