Novel & Cerita Money Hustle Gambling Tattoos

Not sure why but I'm scared of Zero so I don't even fight Storm. But standing behind Storm, I see a very muscular back, with a tattoo covering every inch of it with the words ‘The Satan Sniper’s Motorcycle Club’ branded below and around the tattoo. The sight before me makes me a little nervous. How is it that I failed to notice he was so strong? “I need to talk to the homeless bitch.”

His hand is covered in a spider’s web tattoo, his face is ugly as sin with hooded eyes and what looks like a nose all busted up from one too many fights. “Let the fuck go of my hand you dick,” I tell him. His grip tightens. “Your whore of a mother owes me money cunt, and I am here to collect!”

They must think I’m a total airhead. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just that I woke up a few hours ago, and to be honest, I still don’t know what’s going on. He just gave me his card and left,” I said. I felt myself flush under their amused stares. “It’s alright, Luna. Alpha Lupus mind linked us to take you shopping for the day, so you feel more comfortable here. He said not to worry about the cost and to spend until you tire.” Courtney said happily. I huffed and looked down at the black card in my hand.

Mildred sighed in relief. She thought Justin had gotten into serious trouble, but it was just a gambling debt. Although that was not great either, it was better than being kidnapped, with Jay's life at risk. Her focus shifted to paying the ransom, not withholding it. Despite her age, she had seen a lot in her years. In the current crackdown, those running underground casinos had influential backers. She had to take it seriously. "How much did he lose?" Mildred asked. "Six million," the boss replied.

Bill gives us both a childish smile and I groan in annoyance. Bill is notorious for his stupid bets. He loves a good gamble, but since I refuse to let him do so in a real environment, we agreed he could make bets with others on small things. Things like who might fall asleep on night duty and the likes. His most recent bet was on how long it would take Harriet to bed me. I left out that she had already been trying for some time. He feels cheated by my win on that bet. Now he is looking for that win with this new one.

"I'll be enjoying every moment of it." My cheeks are steaming red and glancing over at Galina, she is also blushing with her gaze downcast. She proffers me her hand and I wordlessly take it as I'm burning with fury inside over the dastard. My eyes catch sight of the tattoo on his muscled upper arm. The black ink of the Christian Cross encircled by a fierce Dragon, made a dramatic striking contrast against his fair skin. Some girls would think it was bad of a guy, however, to me it was bad news about a guy.

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."

“Oh, I get it now,” Trey said and laughed. “The arrow is pointing to your box. Lunch box.” “A little slow on the uptake today,” Dare said. “Too little blood in your brain, bro?” “Shut up. What kind of ass would make a woman get that tattooed on her hip?” “Same kind of ass that would make you and Brian get matching girlie tattoos on your asses,” Dare said. “I got off easy,” Reagan said. “Our bassist lost the same bet. He has a tat on his ass that says Emergency Entrance with an arrow that points to his… I’m sure you can guess.”

The bass thumped, the lights flashed, and the crowd writhed in a frenzy of lust and desire. It was a typical Saturday night at Club Xtasy, the hottest spot in town for those seeking a wild time. Amidst the sea of sweaty bodies, one figure stood out-a tall, muscular white man with a tribal tattoo snaking up his neck, a telltale sign of his true identity.

All the wealthy and popular people got their tattoos at his place and he was living the life. Until I entered the picture. With every year of grit, talent and aggressive marketing, GK Tattoos rose while Hushwolf ran on old glory. He still liked to pretend he hadn’t noticed me, even after I won all three awards he was nominated for last year and my name was on every lip in the tattoo community. Everyone that mattered wanted to get inked out by the Tattoo Master.