John Wick Latin Tattoo Novels & Stories

“W-weaponized shifting. An army of perfect soldiers.” “And Lillian?” I snarled. He sneered. “The key is on her skin. Her father’s final formula—etched in ink only moonlight reveals.” The world tilted. I knew exactly what he is talking about. The small tattoo on her hip—the one she said was a childhood mark. Lucas cursed. “You are telling us the Eastern Pack’s super weapon is hidden in a tattoo?” The rogue laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “More are coming for her. And she belongs to us until claimed by one of yours.”

The man regained his stance and cussed at us. “This little bitches!” Elyse attacked him again and this time, bit him hard on his shoulder. He let out a painful groan and pushed her aside again. His movement revealed the tattoo imprinted on his arm. The seal. The red Mafia seal was the tattoo. He’s one of Luciano’s men.

“He only told me h-he has returned.” Marciano narrows his eyes at me, and I can’t tell if he believes my lie or not. Just when I think he’s about to refuse me, he nods once, his jaw clenched. Then he turns around, his back to me. I notice a few letters of his Latin tattoo peeking out. “Gypsy and Ky will go with you.” I part my lips, about to protest, but when I remember where I’m going, I stop myself. If anything is to happen, at least they’re a little bit on my side.

They were brutally killed, his wolf went all out to end their lives. He took off their masks and for a minute, he stilled. There was a tattoo on their forehead. It was a cross symbol, with a word written in Russia. "Dark knights," he mumbled. They were one of the most deadly werewolf gangsters in the world. How could his Father put so much effort into taking out Jordy? What level of hatred would make him go this far? Jordy. Thoughts of him got Jamal jerking to his feet and sprinting to the cage the men had stalked a while ago.

His heart skipped a beat as his gaze landed on a distinct tattoo on one of the approaching men's arms. The tattoo showed the profile of a Holt's helmet, visor closed, exuding silent authority. Adorned with a laurel wreath and backed by crossed swords, it marked victory, readiness for battle, and strength. A roaring lion at the base signified unmatched power. This was no ordinary mark—it was the insignia of a Mafia King, a symbol feared in the criminal underworld. Recognizing its significance, the guard's voice wavered, "Drop your weapons!" His partner looked at him in confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Alfi added. “How do you know that my tattoo is my Jowa?” Herman asked in surprise. “It”s simple, before shooting, you always stroke your tattoo, right? You do it because of your pride in the tattoo. That”s what I am sure that your tattoo is your Jowa.” Alfi explained. “Herman, use your imagination to destroy those diamonds. Imagine that your nails are as hard as a diamond, as fast as light and they have a nuclear explosive effect!” Alfi explained.

I missed the sensation of his lips on mine even if it was just for a second. His strong arms encircled my waist and I wrapped mine around his neck. I forgot all the initial sadness as I stood there quietly in his arms. My hands rolled his sleeve when I saw some letters and my eyes widened. The tattoo of 'J' was no longer only 'J' that meant Jessica. Now, it said and meant 'John.' I couldn't believe that he tattooed his father's name, the man I murdered. "Noah, w-what is this?" I asked dubiously, a lump forming in my throat.

"I can't promise that no harm will come your way but what I can promise is that I will ward off any danger, I promise." I looked at him with doubt and he chuckled. "One major thing a Mafia man prioritizes is his word and I won't break mine, especially when it comes to you." I was sitting at the edge of the bed, my eyes glued to his. "What's the meaning of that tattoo?" I asked, pointing to the one in Italian. "Alla Vita?" He said in a very deep Italian accent. " It means 'To live'." I looked at him confused, I thought the tattoo would have more meaning than that.

Proud to be. I smirk slightly, looking down at his cock again, it makes my wrist look fucking small. My eyes blaze as I peel his boxers off and the sight in front of me makes me lick my lips. He’s perfectly groomed, the tip of his cock a smooth rounded tip and it’s shining with a few drops of precum. He has a tattoo just over his pubic bone, to the right side, a simple word but it looks so fucking hot. ‘Loyalty.’

I put my hand on his neck to check for a pulse only to find it gone. I sigh. All this travel for nothing. “There is no pulse. Lets bag him for cremation. Nobody left behind.” Rob immediately gets to work and Chris helps where he can. Terry and Logan come back a few minutes after carrying another body. “Who is that?” I ask them. “This my good sister is the real Quinton. We can confirm this too. He has a ‘loyal to killian’ tattoo on his ass. Of all the places to place the tattoo, he chose his ass.” “What makes you sure that he is the real one and it is not the one that Rob and Chris are busy bagging?”