Novel & Cerita Money Hustle Gambling Tattoos

” He grabbed my hands and led me to the carnival shooting booths handing me the small arrows to arm at the water ball. He goes first, and with five arrows he misses like a toddler losing a game. That motivates me to aim, win and give him the puppy plushie. If I didn't know Machado was a feared Mafia Boss, I'd argue with anyone who told me —-- because right now, he is jumping with excitement like a kid getting a prize. His joy disarms me like a toy gun shooting real bullets. His tattoos peak from his knuckles and arm—- two rings on his fingers, the index and pinkie, probably making his family rank. Skulls and bullets inked on his knuckles.

Tonight, Project BLACK EAGLE will fly, as I drink and smoke my way into DeBrassy's inner circle. Rolling my shoulders, I open my jacket, unbuttoning my collar to show off some of the tattoos I got when I was young and stupid. "Hazardous" is an identity I created as a teen to irritate my parents. I was such a spoiled little rich kid who was so desperate for love that I didn't care where it came from.

"That's the only reason I'm wasting my time here. Even if I was a hooker, I wouldn't want your patronage. You're not my type. You both look like sloppy criminals who can land in jail any moment from now. Henry raised a brow. His lust quickly dissipated. "That means you can strip for me, if I consider lending you my bike since you're delusional enough to think that a criminal could lend you one, and you'd be safe." Tattoo guy replied, his eyes greedily feasting on her cleavage. Her plan could work after all. She smirked at him. "Ride with me. I need to get to my place of work. Then you can have your bike."

I chuckled and look up to see him, "Ok dude, ill accept it but what do you expect me to do with a gambling addict? They probably do drugs too." But he didn't laugh or feel offended at my sarcastic remark, instead, he replied to me with a smirk, " They got some uses don't worry, they may be a gambling addict but they are proficient at martial arts. They can do anything for money and that's the good thing. It's easy to manipulate these guys when all they crave is money to gamble. It's foolish really, for them to borrow money from us when they play at our casino. HAHAHA!"

Douglas vowed. “I am counting on your words. Make sure you keep them!” Douglas nod his head at me and touch the tattoo on his shoulder. The tattoo which is the drawing of an axe with a small handle and letters XXX written under it is a sign that represents our Mafia organization. Every member and worker of our Mafia has the tattoo on either their right hand arm or the back of their neck or on the upper part of their back for those that don’t want the tattoo to be seen. By touching the tattoo, Douglas pledges his loyalty to the organization.

Yippee for him. Currently two hulks are fighting, stripped to the waist. One covered in swirling dark tattoos right up to his bright green eyes. The other has his hair in a topknot like myself, except white blonde. The scars on his back are unavoidable. They are huge, muscular and lethal. I mentally pat myself on the back for such a clever idea. /We were right about recruiting from here. Wait until they’re all gathered for their payout and round them up/ Rush suggested. Then everything slowed. Pacing around the ring, taking down names and betting odds, seeing as I wanted to recruit winners not losers, I caught a scent of orange blossom. /She can’t be here!/ Rush cried /this isn’t safe!/

There was no changing. Slowly, with a reluctant nod, I gave in. Just like that, she won. ~~~ KYOMI POV The casino was a gold plated sin. Crystal chandeliers dropped like diamonds from thr ceilings. Everything flowed in blood red lighting, and smoke filled the air. The lavishness of it all screamed money and corruption and sin. A tall, tattooed man in a grey suit approached us with a bow of his head. “Mr Russo.” He called out a thick Russian accent settling in tone like a heavy weight. “Follow me please.”

“They are mere thugs. They molest the public and extort others. We may be wild, but nobody ever achieved success in the underground mafia society being a saint.” As soon as he finishes those words, the gangster attacks me. He has a tattoo on his forehead and neck, “baby Yahoo” clearly written in italic with worn-out ink. He is chubby and clumsy in his attacks, but his moves are lethal and deadly. He throws punches as if he wants to overwhelm me with rush and adrenaline. The man they put in front of me is built like a wall. Bare chest, scars running across his skin, eyes filled with nothing but hunger for violence.

Power bikes parked outside gleamed under the streetlights. The place smelled of smoke, leather, and ink. Elena stared at the building, confused. “What… are we doing here?” she asked slowly. Mia smirked. “We’re getting you something wild.” Elena’s eyes widened. “A tattoo?” Mia grinned. “Hell yeah.” Elena blinked, shaking her head. “Are you serious?” Mia laughed. “Dead serious. You need to do something for you. Something crazy. Something that says ‘F-you’ to the world.”

she teased. "How can I survive in this circle if I don't think of ways to make money? The allowance my father gives me is barely enough," Jayce grumbled. "Even though we hope those who bet will lose all they have to us, we can't make it obvious. You should think of a slogan—maybe something like 'gambling is risky' that serves as a warning. "By doing so, we can attract people's attention and shift the responsibility away from us." Jayce came from a wealthy family. However, his father, Lord Hubert Murray, believed boys should be raised with limited money.