Novel & Cerita Gangster Sacred Heart Tattoo Designs

The fiery burn lingered in my throat. "Nothing's wrong with being a gentleman, but pretending to be one just to impress women doesn't make you one." I smirked, taking another swig of whiskey. I surveyed his outfit, taking in every detail. He wore a vivid red shirt left open to showcase a muscular chest inked with a roaring lion whose fiery orange mane seemed to reach beyond his skin. Leonardo. Lion-hearted. That tattoo made perfect sense. A golden cross lay nestled atop the lion's mane, glinting in the light like a beacon of faith. It was clear that Leonardo wore his heart on his sleeve. His was a tattooed visual representation of his inner fire.

“And today’s business was…mafia business?” “A bit of both, but I can’t say much about it for now,” I admit, then I point to my left shoulder. “The eight-pointed stars tattooed on my shoulders is a Bratva insignia. You’ll see most of my men with the same tattoo, although I’m the only one with the same stars tattooed on my knees.” She’s quiet for a few seconds as she seems to be thinking it over, then she lays back and sighs. “That indicates that you’re in a higher position?” she asks, and I nod. “Ah, okay.”

I screamed, “Hey!” Ricardo stood in front of me, wearing only pyjama pants, his chest bare. On his lift arm was the same tattoo all three of my foster brothers had—a hawk. It was the mark of their pure blood in the La Cosa Nostra. Every family in La Cosa Nostra had its own unique tattoo. He wrapped his arm around my neck and yanked my head down, pressing the crook of his arm against my skull. I tried to push him away and yelled, “Ricardo, stop! This is not funny.”

“Geez, you look like you’re about to murder someone. You have to relax, bro. I know you have a crush on him and all, but he’s not stripping for the class. He’s just existing. Violently existing.” The guy sitting two seats over leaned across the aisle like they were all in on the same conspiracy. “That’s actually not normal tattoos, guys. That’s mafia ink,” he said, his voice slow and smug. “I’ve seen those before. A dagger-and-rosary combo is classic mafia. The guy’s probably got a rap sheet and a body count. I bet he’s got a private plane parked somewhere with blood money in the cargo hold.” Archer snorted. “You watch too much N*****x, bro.”

he chuckled,”You’re a good asset to my gang. “What’s the last part of my training?” I asked, remembering the conversation from earlier. “You have to get a tattoo,” he stated. “A tattoo?” I gaped, “Why?” “It’s the trademark,” he smiled,”It’s kind of like a brand. Everyone in my gang has the tattoo.” “What’s the tattoo of?” I wondered. “A Devil's,” he smiled, “Or serpents.” “Why a Devil?” I questioned. “My gang name is The Devil's Brotherhood,” he smirked. I chuckled, and looked at him.

You'd be nothing but a tomfool if you underestimate him because he has all of the most hidden information about the underworld in his cryptic brain. Don't judge a book by its cover, right? "Then you tell me." I raise my eyebrow and take a sip from my drink. "The tattoo is a sign of the Bratva and it indicates their loyalty to the mafia family. When they assign as a member of the mafia, they cosign their life to the Devil and get the tattoo. Only exclusive members, who have seen him, get the tattoo on the neck. But the others get it on their wrist." He murmurs and keeps serving the drinks to the people.

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

The reports echoed off the warehouse walls, then faded into the quiet hiss of the sea outside. The two captured men shuddered violently before going limp. Giovanni’s breathing slowed again, but as he turned to walk away, something caught his eye on the skin of one of the men he had just shot. Beneath the torn, blood-soaked shirt of the second man, just under his left breast, was a black ink tattoo. It was bold and had a design of interlocking blades, wrapped around a single symbol he couldn’t place. “Dante.” His voice cut through the stillness.

Douglas vowed. “I am counting on your words. Make sure you keep them!” Douglas nod his head at me and touch the tattoo on his shoulder. The tattoo which is the drawing of an axe with a small handle and letters XXX written under it is a sign that represents our Mafia organization. Every member and worker of our Mafia has the tattoo on either their right hand arm or the back of their neck or on the upper part of their back for those that don’t want the tattoo to be seen. By touching the tattoo, Douglas pledges his loyalty to the organization.

As she unbuttoned his shirt, she noticed the tattoo of a horse on his neck which was mostly concealed by his shirt. "This is one of Christopher Stallion's men," she said. "What?" "Look at him," she said, pointing to the tattoo. "That is impossible," the governor incredulously. "My men are all trusted men." "But he has the tattoo of a horse on his neck. It would interest you to know that Stallion has a similar tattoo, and so does every member of his gang. Do you doubt it? I have a tattoo of a scorpion on my back because I am a Black Scorpion. All the members of the gangs have tattoos on their bodies."