James Gandolfini Tattoo Novels & Stories

With a smile, he heads out to the printers to confirm our order. I turn around to see James measuring up the lengths of wood and marking the walls for where the supports need to go. It is warm inside, so he is stripped down to just a vest, and I notice for the first time the tattoos that run across his shoulder blades and down his arms. They are beautiful tribal patterns with complex shading in black and grey. James turns around and catches me staring, and a blush creeps up my neck even though I know I am not even the slightest bit attracted to him.

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.

Instead, the place where the tattoo should’ve been was reddish and wrinkled—a common effect of tattoo removal. “Con il sangue, veniamo. Con il sangue, andiamo,” Val mumbled. “With blood, we come. With blood, we go.” I met her gaze. “This, my dear, is the Omerta tattoo of Cosa Nostra.” She swiped the image to Domenico’s. A very shirtless Domenico. I had never met Domenico Guerra upfront, but I had gotten a good idea of how he looked. If he and Adonis walked into the room, all eyes would turn to Domenico first before moving to Adonis. It was not to say that Adonis was less handsome, but there was something about Domenico that could steal the spotlight. And the same was with his sister.

I requested. “Of course.” He took a few pictures with his phone and handed it to me, a picture of my reddish back gracing the screen. The ‘Harry’ tattoo was nowhere to be found. There were zinnia flowers quite alright, but just enough to create the perfect backdrop for the name ‘GAVIN’ written in bold block letters, even bolder than the previous tattoo had been. My wide smile disappeared.

He is wearing one of his dark suits but the first few buttons of his black shirt are open, giving view of the silver chain that he always has around his neck along with the Bratva tattoo on his chest. All in all, the man looks deadly enough to kill and sinful enough for me to spend the whole night fucking. But that isn't something I would do. No. No matter how much I want to. "It was good seeing you, Meera." James' scared voice breaks me out of my state of ogling at the man that I should hate with a passion. And by the time I finally turn towards him, James is already halfway out of the bar area. I deflate hopelessly in my seat, bringing the drink back to my lips as I take a sip, feeling gra

Matthews placated “That’s more like it. Now talk to me Steph” James said I watched on in amusement as Stephanie took her time to talk just to rile James and everyone in the room up. Seeing as they were all just as interested to know how her training went. “Well for starters, you are looking at the new gamma of alpha Chaos and I have a tattoo to show my status” Stephanie spilled with excitement as she pushed the shirt on her shoulder to show off the rank tattoo which made up of the Chaos family emblem with three moons with a star on top of each of them. And some strange writings under the whole thing.

Maya waggled her brow at Jared as he stepped out of the dressing room, looking like a stereotyped bad boy and ticking off all the boxes with his denim jacket which was opened showing off chiseled muscleks and surprisingly a tattoo, though it was an inscription that puzzled her: I want to be your everything except but one thing, Your past. It was very poetic and in all the tats did do Justice to the whole bad boy imagery that was being projected. "Howdy," she taunted, adding a wave and stifling giggle for good measures. He groaned and she chuckled.

he beamed with a smile. The large gates swung open, and the two dons marched into the wide and sunny courtyard. Fernando stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on Romano, who was swimming laps in his bright pool. A large, exquisite snake tattoo snaked across his back, a symbol of his ruthlessness. Fernando walked to the edge of the pool as Romano reached the side, spitting out water and smiling, a ruthlessly pleasant expression. "You are too late," Romano announced. "It seems you guys didn't like the angel like you claimed you did, it took you more than two days to get here."

It was the first time I saw the tattoo that covered his entire back. I’d never seen it before. It was a highly detailed skull that was realistic and somewhat menacing, with deep, dark eye sockets and a wide, toothy grin. The shading and depth gave it a three-dimensional effect, making it appear almost lifelike. The design extended from his lower back up to his shoulders, creating a striking and impactful visual. It was certainly a work of art and my favorite tattoo of his. My second favorite were the words written on his fingers. They spelt out ‘il migliore’ which was Italian for his nickname ‘The Beast’, a title he wore with pride.

"Yes, Don." "And," Dominic's voice lowered, tinged with self-mockery. "Find me the best tattoo artist." Marco blinked. Dominic touched his chest, closing his eyes. "I want a tattoo removed," he said. "And then, I want a new name tattooed." "What name?" "Elena." His voice was soft, but carried a fierce resolve. "This time, it will not be erased until I am dead." Outside, it began to rain over Manhattan. Watching the water stream down the glass, Dominic felt a sense of detachment.