Novel & Cerita Money Hustle Gambling Tattoos

I gasped as fear gripped my neck, unable to breathe. "Did you just sell me off, Amber Stone?" I cried. "We've known each other for more than a decade! You're my best friend! But you sold me off just to pay off your debt of 50 million dollars!" My questions made her back away as she kept shaking her head. "No, don't look at me like that. The casino boss is very wealthy. He just has a kink for women with crescent-shaped birthmarks on their bodies, and he'd waive off any gambling debts as long as they can bring him a woman with that birthmark…

chest rising in a calm rhythm like he was meditating, not surrounded by criminals. Speaking of his tattoos, he's got the weirdest tats I have seen on any guy. His back bore the most outrageous tattoos in the history of tattoos. His back looked like someone had lost a wrestling match with a possessed octopus holding a tattoo gun. From shoulder to shoulder, the ink sprawled like a chaotic crime scene—tribal swirls, demonic curls, and angry squiggles that might’ve once meant something, but now just screamed, “I don’t pay taxes and I bite.”

“You are one funny kid. How could you even tell that?” My brows raised, “The guy shaking he was looking at those people up there,” my chin pointed to a huddle of people. “They are a cartel, right? If I wasn’t mistaken of the tattoos that elaborately adorn their bodies, there are from Santa Muertos. Which only means my guy owes them something and concludes my deduction but the way he was tapping his right foot.” I mimicked the motion the guy was doing. One Two. One. Two.One. Two. “Made it clearer, he’s someone's sister’s or daughter’s husband!” My tone hitched.

But the way Knives looked at me, you would think he just won the jackpot. “Sweetheart,” he groaned, his whiskey voice making me shiver in delight. “Your wish is my command...” He stood and, without hesitating, he took off his T-shirt. And for once, I didn’t look away, but instead, I took in everything he had to offer. His tattoos were gorgeous. Most of them were skulls, knives, and motorcycles, but I also liked the angles and the roses. They all melted together and perfectly led from one act to the next, telling the story of a boy who became an MC VP. And of course, the centerpiece was the snarling wolf and the moon, with the name of his club.

Picking up my glass, I lightly sipped my alcohol, the stinging liquid coursing through my body. “We have, huh?” I said, putting my glass down with an intensity that made some of the stuff spill out. “Look at these pictures. Notice their hands. They all have the same tattoo on their hands… like the head of a cat or lizard. That must mean something. Find out the mafioso faction or any group with these types of tattoos and get back to me.” “Yes, boss,” he said, standing. He bent to pick up the pictures but I stopped him.

So, no matter what, she has to find that money to pay off the debt. - Okay, okay, I'll pay tomorrow. A group of tattooed people quickly walked out, leaving only Calliope Tucker, her face stained, her hair dishevelled from being beaten by them. This woman carefully took the money from her bra and put it in a medium iron box. When finished, sit down and sigh. - Don't know where to get the money tomorrow? For many years, this scene has soon become familiar, Calliope Tucker's whole life is only living, gambling and paying debts, gradually these fights to collect debts also become familiar.

He responded. “What?” I asked, confused, what the hell is going on? “They are called the tiger gang and all their members have the same tattoo. They are mostly involved in drug trafficking and robbery. I'm surprised they are involved in blackmail. It's not in their Modus Operandi. There must be more to this than we thought.” He explained, and I heard the sound of books ruffling in the background. “And you’re sure he knew about the video?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, anger bubbling to the surface.

It was a memory she wished she didn't have, a memory she didn't like to think about. Where was he going with this? "We don't know who made the regular payments. There's no trace of the money being wired or anything, and now that you claim that he has the tattoo— "I do not claim, I know." She interrupted, and Luca nodded in surrender. "—since he has the tattoo, I think it's someone from the Spanish mafia." She raised her brow, dubious. "How do you know?" "Only members of their mafia are allowed to tattoo the emblem—it seems your father is one of them, and Antonio knew about this; I'm guessing that was why he approached him, using gambling as a facade." He concluded.

Then, I saw him standing by a door to a room, or somewhere. He had taken off his shirt. His upper body appeared bigger. They were tattoos all over his back, his trousers hung low on his waist, dangerously low. I could run my hands through this type of body all day without getting tired. He was receiving a phone call. He was immensely focused. I stood still, waiting for him to finish. His words didn’t make sense at first, until it got to the part where he said: “She doesn’t know a thing. I have it all under control… In the end everything will be mine.” His words made me tremble.

Why would anyone say that they were not interested for their dignity’s sake? People like that would suffer just to save face! Kait looked at Harvey while showing interest in her eyes. “How can I make it more interesting for you then?” Harvey then calmly replied, “It’s meaningless to gamble for alcohol, and it’s illegal to gamble for money. So, why don’t we play with higher stakes? If you lose, you’ll be mine for the night…” “Yours for the night?” Tamara Ebony was boiling in anger while standing on the side.