Money Hustle Gambling Tattoos の小説・ストーリー

“I was ranked #60. My mafia name is Gambler. Anything imbued with my luck becomes a weapon. I use mostly coins and playing cards.” The Gambler was a very sick looking teen who looked like he sold his soul instead of his luck for power. He would be clumsier than usual on some days, and Zen knew the reason behind it now. Yesterday, Zen caught him loitering outside the kitchen. The Gambler left eventually without saying anything, but his actions were highly suspicious. Yet, who would have anticipated their meeting in such an alliance?

Chapter 40 "Huh?" Ashley frowned and sighed. "Why do you want to know Sandra?" She asked, scratching her head. "Because it is important and I have to write it down. I think my Boss knows Mikhail and he just keeps talking. Help me, dear sister." Sandra mumbled and Ashley laughed. "Okay then," Ashley said and sat up from the tub. "Mikhail has three Casinos. The first one is at Ruby Road down the Estate and over there they mostly deal in gambling. They don't do drugs so make sure not to write something you'd regret later. And the other two, are both close. near Victoria street." Ashley said and sighed.

"Needy now? Can't wait to have me on your bed already?" " You're so fuckin pretty." " And you look hot. I might choose to take you all night. You sound like a stranger. I don't even know what you're. I know you're mobster. I'm Interested in working with you." He blinks his eyes and tilts his head. He looks down at her and composed himself. " How did you know?" " Your tattoos , sweetheart. I don't bite. I can be under a dealer and also be your toy. Heard you're shipping in today."

I carry my face from his chest slowly and carefully, not to wake him up I roll over and lie on my side. I admire his sinful beauty, if I can just touch it once more. That's right I can touch it, after all he's sleeping. I flatten my palm on his chest and feel each rhythmic movement his chest makes when he breathes. I outline his body with my hands, over the six divisions on his belly to the tattoo on his chest. I remember when he got that, I came back tired from the classes I had and he came into my house grinning like he just won a lottery. He made me close my eyes, trust me I still cheated, opening my eyes slightly to try to take peaks of whatever surprise he was bringing up. When I opened

"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

“Nope. Not sleeping with him.” “You mean not yet, right? That’s how you pull your tricks, isn’t it? Sex and blackmail are like your claim to fame.” “They’re not,” I say, fully aware of another visitor eavesdropping. I get it, our conversation is unorthodox at best, but geez, be a little discreet. “So what are you going to do? We need money.” “My job.” Heather’s eyebrows push together, and she stares at me for a good few seconds. “Wait. You took a job as a nanny for a rich couple so you could con them out of their money, but you’re just going to be a fucking nanny and earn minimum wage?”

Donald’s brows pulled tight. Crestwood Heights? That wasn’t a place money alone could get anyone into. One would need proof of assets, credit checks, and a clean record just to qualify. Even if Rachel helped her, there was no way she could pull together millions to put Angela there. “Where did she get the money? Did you look into it?” Donald’s voice turned cold. “I did. Gambling. That woman’s got guts. She played against a few punks from the Shadowmist Alley and won over four million.”

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.

However, they were not easy to get money out of unless you bluffed really well. The dealer put down the turn card. An eight of hearts. Immediately the player who was supposed to play folded. The player after him—Adrea was internally calling him Bones, as he had a skull tattoo on his forearm and on one of his hands, he had the back of his fingers tattooed so that it looked like the bones of his hand. There was a pirate tattoo on his inner wrist. Bones placed a bet again. Just like the last time it was not big enough to scare away the skittish, but it was enough to make the seasoned be wary of him. Adrea wondered if she was making a mistake as she matched his bet. The next player after her cal