Money Hustle Gambling Tattoos Novels & Stories

Of course, whoever was with the woman probably needed somewhere nice to sit as it took a while with this sort of thing. “You and me both” she said, “but I gotta say some of those looked alright, we definitely haven’t found YOUR dress yet.” She wasn’t wrong, some of them had been decent enough, but none that really won me over. Exasperated I shook out my low ponytail, twisted my hair, and shoved it up into a sloppy bun on the top of my head. I heard a gasp and turned to see the saleslady staring at me. I realized, belatedly, that my tattoo was visible. In the mob, or mafia as it was typically called, we had distinguishing marks; one of the most frequent being strategically placed tattoos. Thi

There was noise around and I really questioned Sante's decision to have poker in the middle of a busy casino. "What do you want?" Elliot finally asked looking up. I noticed the dark bags under his eyes and the unkempt state of his hair. "You really let yourself go didn't you?" I asked chuckling. "Must be hard to lose all the money you did." "Cut to the chase," Sante snapped, his eyes narrowing at me. He had a snake tattoo on the side of his neck, the sign of his mafia. "I'm looking for someone," I said doubling the bet amount.

She knew she had internal injuries; she bit her tongue hard, using the pain to keep herself alert, and committed the license plate number of the fleeing car to her memory. AX6880... The thugs, led by the tattooed man, stared at Melody who had fallen to the ground, exchanging bewildered glances. "Boss, did you arrange for someone to set this up?" The tattooed man shook his head, puzzled. "No! I can't even afford a car. Where would I find the money to do that? Besides, it's just a woman. Why would I bother?" "Then what's happening here?" "Who cares! Maybe this bitch offended someone else. It works out for us!"

He asked as he breathed out his smoke. I take off my jacket and my shirt to show him my tattoo of the Criemsons. The tattoo shows a blood sword that encircles with vipers and roses that symbolizes our gang or mafia name. I swiveled to indicate my identity while his ladies gape at me like the last cupcake in a bakery they wanted to devour. "Holy mother of great mercy" He grinned. "Now can we converse interaction?" I asked before I put my clothes in and I know his kittens will groan for consuming clothes.

Battered hands, inked with tattoos: MAMA on his knuckles, a dove, and more ink disappearing beneath his tank top. Another man chuckles under his breath. “She stays, maybe we talk more,” Green Eyes says. I glance at Angelo. His face is stone. “She’s not payment,” Nate growls, fighting back the urge to stand. “Oh, come on. She’s a gift to the room,” another pipes up. “You sure you don’t want to share?” “Ettiene,” Angelo warns, voice low and lethal. But Green Eyes doesn’t stop. Maybe it’s just me or maybe I’m naive but I didn’t expect this from a man with MAMA tattooed all over his skin. Then again, what do I expect from unethical thugs?

My gaze drifted unconsciously to his collarbone. There was a new tattoo there. Red, still swollen from being freshly inked, but unmistakable. It was my name. The characters were rendered in the most ancient, wild cursive form of script, like an old, binding sigil. My fingers trembled as I touched it. “When did you… get this?” Henry caught my hand and rubbed it gently against his palm. “Last night, after you fell asleep.” “Did it hurt?” “It was better that it hurt.” His eyes darkened, and a satisfied smile curved his lips.

Bella hissed to the thug general that had been standing away from us. Alarm spiked in my body when I took in the man’s hefty size, the ink of snake tattoos that curved around his bald white head, inked into his eyes and face and the rest of his muscular body. Every inch of his body was covered in small metal spikes or tattoos. He looked like a fucking skull merchant! Bloody hell! Was I ever going to make it out of here?! “The fuck are you looking at slut? MOVE! What the hell do you think I am? Your fucking chauffeur?” The tattooed thug boss barked suddenly and I jumped, gasping when his hard hands wrapped around my arm and shoved me forward roughly.

After that, the tattooed man placed his hand around Florence's waist and said, with a sinister smile, "Girl, come with me!" Florence was stunned. She never expected Adam's engagement gift to be borrowed. If she had known, she would not have gotten engaged to him. "Didn't your family make millions from being forced to relocate? Why do you need to borrow money for that?" Adam could not answer Florence's question. The tattooed man revealed the truth. "His family received a large sum of money, but this guy is a gambling addict. He went and lost everything. Did you think he was wealthy?!"

(eg when Damon speaks, the format will be as this: Damon ~ “Evening Amber.” Let me know what you think, of Gamble With My Heart. Gamble With My Heart is a winner in the Chapters Interactive Stories Writing Contest in 2020. Happy reading, Tatum Whispers ************************* Whatever you think might be real. It is not. Only a fool believes foolish things. You are only as good as the game that you play. And right now, the game is on you. For every single thing that you have ever done to another woman has just come back to you. Karma is a bïtch, and you have been bitten.

Beggars have a slogan of staying out of shit unless… “Stand back and watch,” I say, my voice firm. I’m not giving up. Hera’s in a hospital bed because of this mess, and I’m not walking away empty-handed. I turn back to the woman, pulling a few crumpled dollars from my pocket. Her eyes lock on the money, and I see a flicker of interest. “Help me out,” I say, holding the bills just out of reach. “This guy is trouble. Have you seen him around here? Or anyone with a tattoo like this?” I scroll to the next picture of the Shadow Riders logo of a skull with crossed daggers.