Gangster Sacred Heart Tattoo Designs นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I could still feel their eyes on me as we moved across the floor to the stairs. "They all have the same tattoo" Dante mind-linked me. I had failed to notice many details on our tour, focusing too much on a certain Alpha. Luckily Dante was doing his job "a Cresent Moon with a star" he continued in the link. I looked around and sure enough, I saw a lot of tattoos like Dante described, the design seemed familiar but I couldn't place it. "It was the symbol carved into the fountain." He linked again. Thank the goddess Dante had his act together.

I brought out the gang image logo, and each of their blood dropped on it. I set the image on fire in my hand and told them to say their oath. “If I betray the family, may my soul burn like this logo,” they echoed. They also swore their loyalty to me. The gang’s tattoo artist came forward and inscribed the “L” logo on their bodies, each individual choosing where they wanted it done. I shook hands with them. “Welcome to the family.” Mateo also shook their hands and welcomed them.

So we killed more than one person who was involved with the Damned Forsaken. Now I have a Ravager's tattoo of a skull with a zombie raven atop of it wearing a crown, a pistol leaning against the blood-splattered skull. The zombie raven is for the Ravager while the skull with the pistol was my Damned Forsaken tattoo, and the crown is for the Death Kings. I put my spin on it so that it’s unique and easily identifiable as a crew tattoo. I didn’t mind letting the man who trained Lachlan be the one to do the work. Plus that Drogo is a Death King and the Vice President for the Death Riders MC.

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.

My beloved, at that hour, died to protect this unusually damned woman, named Haydée What, this gangster didn't have enough money for a whole grill? Yes, apparently, he didn't pay well enough to be betrayed by another member and murderer of the rival gang. With a tattoo of a spider web on her right temple, running down below her ear, in that spider part of the tattoo on her neck and some cursive writing. The screech of the tires sounded on the road, and it was just enough to see the small spark of panic on his face. He looked back.

The hoodie draped loosely over his head, obscuring his face, but the flicker of city lights occasionally illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw and the hints of a sinister smirk playing on his lips. The wind picked up, a fierce breeze whipping across the rooftop and causing the hood to flutter. As the fabric shifted, it revealed a chiseled, muscular torso adorned with intricate tattoos, each line telling a story of violence, power, and mystery. Prominently displayed on the left side of his chest was a large, bold tattoo—the words *Nosce Hostem* inked in a jagged, menacing script that seemed almost to pulse with life against his skin. The tattoo, a clear message, spoke of a deep connection to

The weight of the moment was palpable, heightened by the realization that the priest standing beside me was none other than Krystallo, the infamous mafia priest known for his merciless acts. My eyes inadvertently drifted towards the cross-shaped tattoo, intertwined with a viper, adorning Krystallo's neck. The intricate design served as a chilling reminder of the countless lives he had taken and the blood that stained his hands. It was a symbol of power and ruthlessness, one that sent shivers down the spines of even the most hardened criminals.

Eventually my brother also got dragged into the conversation and blamed for the tattoo just as he had been blamed for the first one. Speaking of my beautiful little brother I glanced down the other end of the bar where Mark was talking to Mitch and a couple of his biker buddies and stared at his right arm where the other half of my money had gone. Like mine Mark's tattoo covered his arm from shoulder to elbow and was an evil version of the great god Pan. This wasn't the silly looking Greek Pan, this was the original Celtic version complete with horns, hooves, red glaring eyes and a long horn that called to all the lost souls. Between the size, the colors and of course Mark's extremely well m

Carmine unsheathed his knife and made a horizontal cut on Frank's hand, letting the blood drop onto the saint's picture. "Repeat after me, Frank," Carmine said as he took hold of the picture of the saint, which was now drenched in blood, and set it ablaze. He carefully placed the burning picture on Frank's outstretched hand as a symbol of his commitment to the brotherhood. "Burn my flesh like the image of this saint if I betray you. I swear on my honor to be faithful to the La Cosa Nostra... just as La Cosa Nostra is faithful to me. I swear to disown father, mother, brothers, and sisters in the interests of this organization," he repeated.

He nodded and I touched his hand. His hand was so big. Trust me, if he tells you that I was attacked by a shark you'd believe it. His hand had a lot of scars and I'm pretty sure this Datura Flower tattoo is covering a bad scar oh and it has a tiny text underneath… Co-sa No-stra. What's that? “Cosa Nostra. What does it mean?” I asked as I read the tiny text under the Datura Flower. “I'll have to kill you if I tell you.” Ha-ha. That's a Joke Right?