Money Hustle Gambling Tattoos Novels & Stories

“Boss Lady had shared pictures of the tattoo that you did on her and a few of your designs. We displayed them, and those are the ones who are interested in talking to you about getting some ink done. No pressure if you don’t want to do it, but there you go just in case. By the way, I know that there’s at least fifteen of us workers who would definitely be interested in your designs.” Maddox looked at the paper before looking at me. There was such raw emotion there that it choked me up. He gripped my chin and drew me into a sweet kiss, one of promise and love. There were cheers around us when we pulled a part. Heat warmed my cheeks, making him chuckle softly. ‘You blush so fiercely for someon

Don't make me feel jealous again," I looked at him in confusion when he said the next sentence. Did he just compliment me? Seems he did this to lighten the tensed up situation between us. and I must admit this worked. I couldn't take my gaze away from him. Why he is so weirdly cute?! The foreign feelings returning to the pit of my core make me fall for him once again. "What?" He asked me while I noticed the flushness made it's way to his face. Yet his face was blank enough for me not to comprehend what was going on in his mind. The question arose in my mind when I saw the tattoo peeking through the collar of his shirt. "Is having tattoos necessary to be into mafia?" I queried being curious.

"This Casino earns up to fourteen million dollars a day. but the amount of money we normally see in the cash book never corresponds to the amount that was earned. We used to wonder why not until the boss showed up with a car, We thought it was normal but the next week he came with another and the following week he came back with another." "He has two houses and has been going on vacation with his numerous girlfriends and what is funny is he doesn't hide what he is doing it is like he doesn't fear the big boss like we do. He spends the boss's money as if it's his and the worst of it all is he treats us like trash. Boss makes us feel like we are nothing compared to him, he doesn't fail to humi

Really?!!! Not white tigers but white bears. That gangster wannabe's tattoo was the answer all along. It was literally right in front of me. The website redirected to another site with a white and gold layout. I scrolled down to find any information but there was nothing, just an endless loop of white and gold marble layout. Whoever created this whole thing loved to play games and they'd met their match. I kept on scrolling for minutes, almost about to give up when a bold write-up emerged.

Suddenly, Jean’s phone rang. Once the call was connected, Tanner’s anxious voice came through. “Mom, do you have money on you? I’m working on a business venture with a college friend. I need 200k in working capital.” … I knew that there was no business venture. Tanner simply owed 200 grand in gambling debt.

"Listen, I don't care about the gum you stepped on or your menstru-what's. That picture was my favorite and quite expensive, given that the frame was gold. So, I offer you two options: either you repay the damages immediately, or you start working at the shop temporarily, and each month, part of your salary will be withheld to repay the picture." I take a deep breath. "You're looking at your new employee, absolutely thrilled about this job. Even though technically I didn't make the picture fall. It was probably possessed." The man sighs and leads me out of the shop. I go home, cursing my bad luck. Well, today I learned one thing. Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is chasing you. And no

she murmured. “Yeah?” “Why do you have, like... seven tattoos and none of them are food-related? You own a restaurant, Mr. Velluto Rosso. Where’s the little pasta noodle?” I grinned, “You want me to get a tattoo of spaghetti?” “Obviously. A single meatball with, like, storm clouds behind it.” I barked a laugh. “Or a fancy cursive quote. ‘Live. Laugh. Lasagna.’” “Oh my fucking God.”

Keisha’s eyes stayed on him. “Say it.” He looked at her. Then away. Then back again. “I moved things,” he said. “Information. Money. People. Whatever needed to go from one place to another without being seen.” Her stomach twisted. “That’s not just street stuff.” “I know.” “So what is it?” He held her gaze for a second. Then said it. “…It’s connected to people who don’t show their faces.” The way he said it made her skin crawl. “Government?” she asked.

“Alec, I don’t have that kind of money. My dad isn’t paying for it and neither are you.” “Just wait and see how you feel when you get there.” Alec made it sound like there was something I didn’t know. As much as I wanted to continue tattooing, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in that location. I guess if Alec was my mate, I wouldn’t be traveling. That shop might be my get away like it has been. It’s not like I can make a shop on the packs territory as humans and other packs can’t just walk into it. As we pulled up, the yellow caution tape had been removed. People were coming and going, carrying trash with them.

I was impressed with the artists’ works. “We’re here because my cousin lost a bet, and we need a tattoo artist that won’t mind maybe tying him down and inking him against his will,” Kimi said. I rolled my eyes. Nobody could say my sister wasn’t honest. The woman chuckled. “It depends on what you want on them, and who they are. What was the bet?” “I kicked his ass at pool, so now he needs to get the words ‘Insan Sevenler’ inked across his chest,” she explained.